I never really quite liked Daylight Savings Time. Sure it gave extra time in the summer, but what about messing up sleeping patterns. Whenever the time gets changed around, so does one’s wake up times, causing a horrible disarray of one’s homeostasis. Then again, no matter what time of the year I had problems with my sleeping patterns. Randomly, in the middle of class I would fall asleep and wake up with everyone staring at me. But that was my deal, slacker and underachiever of the year. That’s probably why I was sleeping in the middle of the Model United Nations awards banquet.

The nerves in my back sent red alerts as I immediately woke up, turning towards the cause.

“Stay awake, Delilah!” My date whispered angrily towards me. After staring him down crossly, I pushed my hair out of my eyes, and looked up at the stage in a lazy sort of manner. They were handing out achievement awards for the graduating seniors. Each was presented with a certificate and a metal trophy, signifying their perseverance in the MUN program for four years running. There were only 20 or so of them, but they stood proud, and dignified, as though they worked voraciously trying to become astounding representatives of our school.

In truth they probably did so little in the program that it was a waste of money to buy those trophies. Model United Nations was a program was basically a program used as filler on one’s resume. One did not need any exceptional skill to succeed in the class, just the ability to lack irrational fear and to be loud. During my stay in MUN, I saw many individuals come up in front of the podium. Some spoke well, others rattled off statistics like robots, and there were a large percentage who lacked any reassurance when they made speeches. But out of everyone, I never witnessed a comment, inquiry, or conversation where a person actually believed what they said. And though I understood the point that these people were supposed to be representing a country and their beliefs, these people always either made an excuse on why their country believed what they did, or never put even a single moment in their country’s standpoint.

On top of the seemingly lack of self-confidence, no one said anything new. After the first few speeches in one of my many conferences I attended, it got old. Everyone either agreed, or disagreed with what one delegate said, or said the exact same thing. It often became so repetitious that I ended up drifting off more often than I usually do, and I was the person who people believed lacked any passion for the world. In fact, it was almost the entire opposite, but I ended my stay in the program failing anyway.

The seniors began making a long chain of speeches, almost as redundant as the resolutions and suggestions they made in conferences. I drifted off in thought as they did this, and while everyone next to me was intent on making sure not to miss a single word of the seniors’ wise words.

Finally, everyone had the chance to get up and socialize even more than regularly. My date forced me out of my chair in order to show that he had at least someone with him at the dance, even if it was the couch potato of the class. All the girls ran up to him, eager to talk about me as if I was the hottest topic. Even though we were friends, he sometimes irritated me beyond tolerability.

“So Howard, how long have you and Delilah been going out?” A girl in a fancy red dress asked my date in a flirtatious manner, proving the theory that girls are all jealous creatures. In comparison to her, I was wearing a pantsuit, and could care less what happened to Howie, even if he made off with the most popular MUN nerd in the school.

Howie, almost proudly, wrapped his arm around my waist very limply, as if forced to touch it, but yet repulsed by the idea, “Oh, just recently, I asked her out to the banquet.”

“Oh, really now?” The girl giggled as if inside a huge worldwide joke I wasn’t a part of. A few other people joined the circle we were currently residing in, and a few people actually tried speaking to me.

“So, dropping out of MUN Sophomore year, eh Delilah?” was the thing I heard the most when discussing things with people. The tones varied from pity, to scorn, to superiority, all of them never felt quite right to me, but it wasn’t something too out of the ordinary, so my concern was little to none. After many short clips of conversations were completed, I excused myself.

“Where are you going?” Howie grabbed my wrist as I made my way to the exit. I smiled, and for the first time that night, was conscious of what I said.

“I’m just going out to get some fresh air, no need to escort me.” He let go, and I headed for the exit of the stuffy room, eager to be rid of all the talking and chatter.

After making it outside, I sat down at the table I usually had lunch, and looked up at the sky. It was predictably black, very little stars out due to the light pollution our city had the pleasure of emitting. Even so, I felt at peace, and the cool air made me experience a sense of being disconnected, as if I had no similarities with the girls and boys in the ceremony I was previously in.

All my friends have asked me at one point or another why I let Howie do what he did. He used me as a token, as an easy status object to make other people adore him. Our classmates always either thought he was hanging out with me for a charitable cause or because he wasn’t as shallow as he looked. I never quite felt the urge to explain to them why I hung out with him, but the answer was simple enough; it hurt him more than it hurt me. He was disgusted, and hated who I was, yet he forced himself to touch me and pretend to love me like no other, and in the end prayed I would stop hanging out with him. The truth was I didn’t care what he did to me, as long as he suffered for doing it, and in the end if I ended things between us he would just gain more attention from all his adorers, and get a better girlfriend; if he tried to dump me, it would just make him look bad in front of everybody. So while he may be a little annoying, in the end I gained pleasure from the fact that he was in a relationship he couldn’t escape, and thus he had to suffer infinitely.

After calling my dad to come pick me up, I pulled my hair out of the bun it was in, and let it fall in front of my face. Laying my arms and head on the table, I quickly fell asleep, waiting to get out of the place I desired not to be in.

She finally made it. After months of roaming through the deserted wastelands of Knarai, her quest was coming to an end as she reached the capital city of Marlen, central location for the elves and the dwarves.

Years ago, the two races unified to form a thriving economy based on their seamless ability to work together in order to make enchanted or strengthened metal goods. However, there was a legend that stated a long time ago a dwarf and an elf produced a hybrid child who made the two races bind together for the common good. This was, of course, probably just a rumor, and so most of the populace went on believing that the two communities were observant enough to realize that this symbiotic relationship would work better if they lived together.

The society, however, still had some tensions that had yet to be loosened over time. While some elves and dwarves had children together, most still strived for segregation, believing the other to be inferior. This showed greatly in their city structure. The city divided was clear in the middle, one side being the Dwarven district, the other the Elven district. The one place where they reluctantly blended was in the Central Business District, which was where all the shops and trade centers were located.

While making her way to her destination in the nucleus of the city, she decided to look at both sides of the city. She never quite understood the principles of segregation, considering it just made things worse for each other. Both districts were distinctly one or the other, sticking to traditional architecture and customs. In order to annunciate their seemingly racial pride, the two rejected the other’s ideas, even if it meant sacrificing potentially higher standards of living. She paid little attention to it; her mission was not to force two uncertain parties together.

However, the Central Business District was prosperous beyond imagine. Everyone was cheerful and smiling, as if it were heaven. The streets were paved with a substance that looked like gold, and all the buildings were looked like marble. The architecture seemed to be Elven design, but with the Dwarven materials and tools. It was as if this was a different city, the true capital of the region. Standing there almost made her happier, and more light-headed; it was true what they said, happiness was contagious.

After browsing the shops a while, and asking directions where, she finally found the place she was looking for. In a odd corner of the Central Business District, there was a humble cottage, made of below par stones and mortar compared to the rest of the area. While there was no sign in front of the building, she knew it was what she looked for and quested for in a period consisting of many months. Inside that structure sat the Fountain of Knowledge, and Aoife Xylia was not going to let this opportune moment go wasted.