Another Try

Cliques are everywhere, inescapable. Even in death, even in other worlds, they exist and are clearly cut. Cassandra stepped out of the stuffy shuttle after everyone else had gotten off. She’d showed up to the hub of this world and now to her exit the same way; dragging her feet, letting out breathy sighs, and rolling her eyes at anyone who dared speak to her. Once she had a clear look at the gate, she threw her head back. Through the slats, she could see everyone in their own groups. There were the clear-cut cliques with their hair almost all matching and their shirts equally as edgy as each other, and there were cliques that weren’t so clear-cut. Girls and boys mixed together, each looking drastically different. Before Cassandra’s shuttle group there stood a tall, slender woman. Her chrome skin gave her an android-type appearance. "Welcome to the afterlife."