Who am I? Mezzanine Mustard. Occasionally known as “Turd,” but only to the other gamin/ghosties, and especially NOT to my father. Being raised in secret (as I am technically not alive,) I’ve been able to acquire a load of unusual skills/knowledge for an 11yr old, but I think I know more than I actually do. Also, I’m a big fan of zombies and apple juice.
What do I want? To stay warm, at the most basic level—if I’m too cold for too long, I’ll die. Which I don’t want. Furthermore, there is a massive anti-invading-and-ruling-government group that looks to us as the only hope for overthrowing them. So there’s that. I’m still unsure, though, whether 1) I have what it takes and 2) if overthrowing them is really the best option….
Where am I right now? In a warehouse, in a somewhat crumbling city, with several other ‘ghosts.’ There’s a scratching outside the room, and we’re all terrified. Turns out, it’s only my dad, but he’s bleeding, desperately needing medical attention. And I’m squeamish.
Why am I here? My mother was killed before I was born. I survived, but no one beyond my father and a few other such kids knows. So that explains the warehouse in the crumbling city, I think. Why am I alive? That’s something even I would like to know.
When is all this taking place? Nearly ten years after the Big Bad Invading Government (grrr) “won” after their siege in hopes of taking over our country. Once they came to power, they ordered the murder of all children under the age of three. It’s weeks from the 10-year-reunion, which is then the massive anti-invading-and-ruling-government group is planning something… big.
What is my physical life like? What clothes am I wearing? What is in my pocket or purse? Short, brown hair; big, brown eyes. I’m pretty small, with a slight build—though you’d never guess, under all my layers of sweaters and scarves. I have apple juice boxes in my pockets, and I have this enormously childish impulse to collect things. Junk, mostly.