Hey friends, I've got a special surprise for you. I've decided to start posting things I've been writing. Normally there will be a page or two section of a story, or of characters I've been writing. Today is even better than that. It's an entire short story. This is the piece that was just recently published in the new literary magazine that my friends and I have begun. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it. Don't forget to leave a comment, and let me know what you think.
TNT,
Words by Ali
The Way We Were
One of the last things I remember my mother telling me was to be careful who I let myself trust. I had to be careful. I had to make sure that if I put my trust in someone they would be worthy of it. Family was important. It always had been. I was alone without a family, and I wanted nothing more than to have that back. For three years I was afraid no one would be deserving. I was afraid I was going to end up on my own, and completely alone, forever. However long that ended up being. Looking back I realize that when I was alone all I wanted was to find someone who would take care of me. Make everything alright again.
When I was ten I hadn't had real companionship for three years. Hard to believe, even for me. But the world had changed, and all those expectations that people had about how we are supposed to live have been shattered. I don't remember all that much about the world before, not that much of it matters in this world now. I don't really know what it was that destroyed the world, my mother never talked about it, but I know that billions died all over the Earth. I was six, and the little I remember of before was of my father. I remember my father would always take us on camping trips in the middle of nowhere. It drove my mother crazy. He was always teaching about different survival skills, things that he thought everyone should know. My mother was always grumbling that we were never going to need to know any of it. If only she knew then. He left to try and stop the catastrophe, but it must not have worked. I remember him telling me before he left, "Everything will be ok, Persephone, I'll be back. No matter what happens I'll be back for you, I promise." That night he gave me a necklace with two things on it. The first thing was one of my father's dog tags, and the other his high school class ring. Even though the world has moved, on I still wear it and know that he'll keep his promise.
The world now reminds me of these comics I found in a house when I was about nine. They were about the world ending from a zombie apocalypse. Things outside, on the roads and streets, look the same as in those comics. Except that there aren't hordes of undead trying to eat you at every turn, so I guess that's a plus. The modern marvel that was electricity is now more than useless, but pointless. Gas generators still work, but the gas has to be running low by now. If you can find working batteries they would work, but good luck finding them. For me a town is only as inviting for as long as there is food to eat, but the more you move the less that you are able to find. Some people only stay as long as it takes to pilfer what little is left. Ultimately growing the food you are going to eat will be the only way to sustain life in any form. There is only so much take, take, take that the world we know can handle before there is nothing left.
The town I lived in then was called South Haven, or at least it was. I'd been there for around six months. I'd found a way to make what little there was last. It was easier since it was just me. It was the middle of summer, but I don't know what month it was. My mother kept track, but with her gone I was never able to keep it straight. Actual months are arbitrary; the different seasons are what matters. The summers in those parts were hot, and dry. When there was rain I took advantage of every second I possibly could.
The Earth's natural water sources aren't as clean as a person would've hoped, especially if they were going to be drinking it. When it rained I took buckets up onto the roof of one of the buildings to catch the beautifully clear, clean, rain water. I would place a clean sheet over the top of the bucket, and tie it down so it didn't sink in when it got wet. This way insects and dirt couldn't fall into the water, contaminating it. The storm that came through lasted for three days. I was able to get a few dozen gallons of drinking water out of that storm, soaking myself repeatedly in the process. I didn't know when it would rain again, and I couldn't afford to waste the opportunity if I wanted to continue to survive.
Unfortunately, I think it was this that gave my presence away. Before I could retrieve the buckets one last time off the Post Office's roof, I saw three men coming into town. Not knowing who they were, or if I could trust them, I hid. I was in the City Hall across from the Post Office when I saw them. I didn't have time to make it to the storm cellar that I normally used for shelter. Instead I made my way into the basement archives of City Hall. I was hoping that they wouldn't feel the need to check down there since it was only filling cabinets and paper.
Through the air vents in the archives I could hear the men talking to each other on the main floor above me. One man said, "There is at least one person in this town somewhere. We find whoever is here first. Then we can find out what is in town worth taking. Get back to looking. They could be hiding anywhere." The man he was talking to didn't respond. He just grunted and walked away. I'd met men like them before. All they did was loot a town bone dry. Not just what was on the surface either. They would round up anyone living there and take what little they had. To them all that mattered was themselves, no one else.
Maybe about ten minutes later I heard heavy footsteps on the stairs leading down to the basement. As silently as I could I made my way as far back into the room as I could, and hid myself in a tiny janitorial closet. After what felt like an eternity of waiting in the dark, but was probably only a few minutes, and I heard the electronic squealing of what I assumed was a walkie talkie. I hadn't used one since my father was home and we were playing with them in the woods behind our old home.
The man who had previously been giving orders spoke. "The City Hall is empty. I'm going to move to the police station. You boys keep checking the houses."
"Yes sir."
"Right boss." These voices came fuzzily through the speaker in response.
I heard the footsteps retreat back to the stairs, and then stomp there way back up them. I waited another ten minutes or so before making my way to the stairs myself. I slowly made my way up the stairs, the door at the top was left open. I stepped into the lobby and scanned the area around me. I didn't see anything so I took a few steps forward. A hand holding a damp cloth covered my nose and mouth, and everything went black.
When I awoke my eyes were heavy and didn't want to open. I tried to move, but I couldn't get anything to work. I couldn't for the life of me understand why I couldn't move, or why my eyes wouldn't open. When I tried to move my arms I felt a slight pain shoot through my wrists. I realized that they must have been tied. My head slowly began to clear, and then my vision. I was in the lobby of the police station, tied to one of the office chairs.
Upon realizing I was bound, I struggled to free myself, even though I knew that wasn't going to happen. Out the window I could see the sun was starting to rise, which meant I had been unconscious all night. I wanted to scream for help, but I knew that it wouldn't matter. The only other people in town were be my captors. Yelling would probably have only served to annoy them, and as much as I had wanted to I knew that would've be a bad idea.
That's when I heard the voice of the man who had snuck up behind me in the City Hall. "Well, princess, I see that you're awake."
I timidly whispered, "Don't call me that."
He came around from behind me and sat backwards in one of the chairs in front of me. To me he seemed tall, but he was probably only about 5'10". He looked to be in his late forties, his brown hair streaked with grey. His pale blue eyes were still sharp, and calculating. He had a small scar that ran along his jaw, and I noticed the tattoo on his arm. The tattoo was some kind of military insignia. It reminded me of one I'd seen on my father, but it wasn't exactly the same.
The man smiled down at me. He was trying to be non-threatening, and friendly. It might have worked if I hadn't been tied up at the time. "It's not my intention to hurt you."
I felt like what he was saying was that he may not want to, but that wouldn't stop him. "This coming from the guy who drugged and tied me up?"
"I'm a cautious man. The way you were hiding made me take precautions." He seemed sincere.
It made me wary. "Because a man like you is really going to be worried about one lone ten year old girl?"
"Does that mean you're alone? Yes, I believe so. When I realized how young you were, I figured you weren't alone and I couldn't have you running for help." He reached down and picked up a canteen. He took a sip. "Would you like some water?"
He held the canteen out towards me. I nodded my head. He rolled his chair towards me, and placed the canteen to my lips. He tilted it back; the water was ice cold. It flowed a little too fast and I nearly choked. He pushed himself back. There was an amused smile on his face.
"Thanks." I was still coughing and sputtering.
He watched me attentively. He appeared to be having a hard time figuring me out. "How have you been able to survive when it's just you? You said you were ten?"
I didn't know how to respond. I'm sure there were a lot of reason that added up to why I was still alive and so many other people weren't. But how did you explain that to someone else. Especially someone who scared you more than you ever thought possible. What I ended up saying was, "I don't know."
He quickly stood up, dropped the canteen on the desk behind him, and spun his chair around. He sat back in it, and leaned back. "You just don't want to talk to me, do you?" I didn't say anything. He continued, "That's fine. I can talk for the both of us. Well, there isn't much left in this place. You must have been thinking of leaving soon yourself. We won't be staying long, either. We'll most likely be leaving the day after tomorrow. You can come with us."
"No." I spoke quietly, my eyes on the floor. I lifted my gaze to look at him. He smiled roguishly.
He dropped the smile. He simply said, "I could make you." It was a statement. It wasn't meant to be a threat, it was just a fact. There was nothing I could say. Really, what could I have said?
The following day I was no longer tied to the chair. I was brought to the house that they were camping out in, and had one hand handcuffed to a 400lbs desk. There was no way I was going to be moving that on my own. I'm not sure if the situation had improved any.
The other two men were younger than their leader. The elder of the two was probably in his late twenties, while the younger one was no more than twenty or twenty-one. They had enough of the same features that I guessed they were probably brothers. The elder of the two brothers argued quite a bit with their leader. I could never really hear what was being said between them, but there was a lot of raised voices. And the way that he was always leering at me I could guess what it might have been about. Probably nothing good.
I must have fallen asleep, because when I opened my eyes again morning light was seeping through the window. I could hear them talking quietly to each other. From what I gathered, it was about them leaving. They were standing on the other side of the room. That's when the leader looked over his shoulder to see me watching him. He appeared to be oddly conflicted. He said, "I'm going to take the gear I can carry, and I'll be waiting at the signpost just outside of town. You've got two hours to meet me out there before I take the food, and weapons, that I have with me and leave. Are we clear?"
"Yes, sir," said the elder of the two brothers. His younger brother wasn't anywhere in sight. "We'll be there."
"Good." He then strode across the room to kneel down beside me. I pushed myself up into a sitting position. "It looks like we'll be leaving."
"But not together?" I said.
There was a slight frown on his weathered face. All he said before he stood up was, "Sorry." He walked away.
When I saw the way the other man was watching me, from the side of the room, I tried to call the man in charge back. I called after him, and tried pulling my arm off to free my trapped wrist. All it served to do was hurt my wrist, and pull a smile from the other man's handsome face. He slowly sauntered towards me, and it made me only want to fight more.
He grabbed for my foot, and I kicked out at his knees. I only landed a glancing blow. He side stepped my next kick, and slapped me hard across the face. He took ahold of the waist of my jeans, and yanked me onto my back. I landed hard, smacking my head against the floor. He pinned me down with his large body, and reached up to un-cuff my wrist from the desk.
The second he did my knee shot up, and connected solidly with his groin. He rolled off me, onto his side, clutching himself. I didn't waste a second. I had no idea how quickly he would recover. I scrambled to my feet and ran. I was out the front door, and on the unkempt lawn when I heard him yelling after me. I heard him slam through the front door. I kept running.
I didn't stop, or look back. I could hear him coming. I knew it was just a matter of time before he caught up. I felt his hand catch my arm and his arms encircled me, lifting me up off my feet. I tried to break free, but it was no use. He had my arms pinned at my sides, and he was at least twice my size. He threw me to the ground, right there on what used to be someones front yard. This time he used his body so that I couldn't move at all. Once again he slapped me across the face. This time harder. My vision began to swim from the impact.
I looked up into his eyes. I could see in them my worst fears, and I knew that I wasn't going to survive. He didn't say anything. He just lowered his head and breathed in deeply against my hair. He placed a hand gently against the bruise that must have been spreading across my face. He grabbed my jaw and roughly forced me to look at him. I closed my eyes as tight as I could. I tried to fight.
I heard the movement from the left, before I felt anything. One second his weight was on top of me, and the next it was gone. When I opened my eyes the man had been tackled. He was engaged in a wrestling match with someone new. From what I could see, he looked to be in his early twenties. He also appeared to be winning the fight. He was landing three times as many punches as my attacker.
A gun shot rang out in the air. I turned to the source of the noise, and my attackers brother held a gun, barrel up. He was probably trying to put an end to the fight without the risk of shooting his brother. It would have worked if there wasn't anyone else with my rescuer. The two stopped fighting to find out who was doing the shooting. My attacker punched the other in the face, upon seeing it was his brother with the gun. Before he could do anything else three other new faces appeared. They restrained the boy with the gun.
Seeing that no one was paying any attention to me, I got to my feet and ran. As I ran past my eyes connected with a boy who couldn't have been more than sixteen or seventeen. He called after me to stop, that they weren't going to hurt me, but I only ran even faster. He took up chase. I knew I could never make it to my storm cellar to hide, without him seeing, so I looked for another place that he couldn't follow. One of the houses was raised up off the ground, and there was a crawl space under the house just big enough for me to fit in. This boy, or any of the others I had seen, wouldn't have been able to come in after me.
What felt like hours, but was probably no more than five or ten minutes, later the rest of the boy's friends began to congregate in front of the house I was hiding under. "I thought you said that it was dangerous to get involved with other people like that?"
"Don't be an ass, Brendan. What was David supposed to do let that man do rape and murder that girl?" the boy who chased after me said.
"I wasn't talking to you, Micah," Brendan said.
"Enough, the both of you," David ordered. He turned to a fifth boy, who couldn't have been more than a year older than myself. "Alright, Nicky, you're going to have to go under there."
"LIke hell I am," Nicky said.
"You're the only one who can fit," David said.
"So," Nicky's whispered. I could barely hear him.
David leaned down and put both hands gently on the boy's shoulders. "I wouldn't ask you to do this if we had another choice. You're the only one who can go under there and convince her we're not going to hurt her, that we're just here to help."
"I hate you all," Nicky said. The other boys laughed. This must have been Nicky's way of saying he'd do it.
Brendan and Micah were still glaring deathly at each other. David stepped in between the two boys. He looked from one boy to the next. He said, "Brendan's right, it was a risk to jump in the middle like that."
Micah immediately jumped in. "But, David..."
David help up a hand to silence him. "Micah was right as well. We couldn't just stand by and not do anything. We would have been worse than that man if we had just let that happen to that little girl. There may not be any law left to police the wrong in this world, but some things are evil, and we can't do nothing when we see it."
Even if I hadn't heard their conversation, I would have known they were different from those other men. They still believed in right and wrong, love and hope, something that the majority of the world has forgotten exists. I could tell that they didn't stay together because they need to. The way they bickered and teased, laughed and joked, with each other, they were a family. A family in the way that mattered most, through the bonds they shared. I wanted that more than anything in the world. To belong, to be apart of a family once more. The question was could I find a way to trust these boys? Could they be the family I was searching for?
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