Hey guys! I am writing a short (or long?) suspense/adventure/idontreallyknowwhattocallit story. I will continually update this post with more of the story. Sometimes I will post a page, sometimes a paragraph, maybe just one sentence. I am in the middle of writing it, and have no idea how it will end. Follow my blog or check it periodically to read about one boy's amazing adventures. I hope you like it...so, here it is:
I sit on the ledge of my window, questioning my sanity. Why am I even considering jumping out into the ugly, snow filled streets of New York City below me...my life isn’t that bad just a new home. I mean what’s there to grieve?
It doesn't matter what they tell me. All the lies and useless trickery. I miss it all. I want to go back. Back to my sun. My beach. My blue sky. I had a purpose, a life, a world. I could help them with their spying, and feel like I was someone.
A few days ago we moved to the loud and annoying New York City. I hate the place more than anything. The cramped, disgusting city fills me with a sick and nauseous feeling inside. But of course the secret is above all, right? Above love, above life, above my happiness. Of course it is? In twenty years it has never changed. And it never will.
Don't tell me I am selfish. Don't tell me I signed up for this. I don't care. Nobody knows the whole story. I've got enough to deal with. I've got enough on my head. Don't bother.
What will happen, if she opens my room door? She believes us all to be gone. They can all rot, but what about her? Where is she now? Does she know?
For twenty years, have been running away from ourselves. And no matter where we went, we were always found.
And she won’t be there.
I sent her a card. Well, almost. I wrote it and everything...But of course I can’t send it. Of course they wouldn’t let me.
Ugh, what horrible people. I know they are trying to help...but sometimes I feel like forgetting everything, refusing to help the world, being selfish. Sometimes, I just want to have some time to myself, to do what I want. Can they really blame me for that?
Apparently, we’re rich - you would think we had everything in terms of supplies. But nooo, of course we couldn’t. “Too risky” was all I got when I attempted to question how in the world we were going to survive on the run with a mere 200 bucks on our hands!
All we ever do is hide, hide, hide. We are a cowardly family now, more than a rich one, sitting at home, moving from place to place, disregarding any thought of movies or fun or an education.
She is there waiting for me, and what am I doing? I am hiding in this cardboard box of an apartment, while she slowly fades out of existence. I will keep on going. For her. She needs me. I cannot leave, I cannot stay, I cannot hide.
I am selfish. I am guilty.
I will leave tomorrow.
I am sitting in the plane. I feel feverish, and slightly lightheaded. When will I see her? In what state will I find her? I tug on each of my fingers in turn, my mind whirling in all directions.
I stare out my tiny window, my eyes glazing over, watching the clouds swirling into different shapes.
“Looking for her, aren’t you?”
“Yes. Where do I find her?” I ask the clouds.
“I have a feeling she won’t be where you’re heading.”
“And why is that?”
“She isn’t here anymore.”
“Then where??” I was confused. The clouds didn’t reply. I turned away, disgusted. The old lady sitting next to me stared.
I snapped at her, “What are you looking at?”
“Well…” She offered me a tissue.
“What?” I stared her down.
She pointed to my face. I was crying.
“Can I help?” she asked.
“No. Leave me alone. I wasn’t crying. I’m fine. I was...my eyes were watering. The light…yeah.”
She raised her eyebrows. “I might be able to help, you know.”
I looked up. The old lady reminded me of her, the same deep wise chocolate brown eyes and concerned mashed up eyebrows.
“Say I was...looking for someone. And...if I didn’t find her, I would - I couldn’t live with myself.”
Her eyes bored deep into mine. “It’s her, isn’t it?”
How do they always know? “Yes.”
“I have a feeling-”
I was wrong to have trusted again.
“that she isn’t where you’re heading? I don’t want to hear it! I am done with this, I cannot, will not! No. No. NO. She is still here. I know. I KNOW. If there is one thing in my life I ever knew-”
And then I black out.
A flight attendant stood above be, her heavily makeup coated face scrunched in confusion and worry.
“Hello. Hi. Honey? Are you awake?”
I sit up. “What?” I was feeling annoyed, and I couldn’t remember anything. “What happened?”
Her eyebrows bunched together. “Well, sweetie. I’m not sure how to say this. What seat number are your parents in? I need to ta-”
“I have no parents.” I instantly felt guilty as I said it, then shoved it off. If they put so much responsibility on one young boy’s head, then maybe they weren’t much of parents at all.
“Oh, alright…” She was looking me over, trying to figure me out. Uh-oh. If she caught me on this one, it was hello NYC all over again.
I thought fast. “My orphanage has sent me to California to...go to my new parents, yeah. Their names are Mrs and Mr Reve.” I congratulated myself. This would get me to her pronto.
“Sure, whatever, kid.” She didn’t seem entirely convinced, but didn’t care enough to press the matter.
I sighed. Whew. Somehow got out of that one.
My knees were wobbly…hours had passed. I got off the plane, I looked up.
The universe shifted. Everything had changed. The center of all of existence focused onto one concentrated point.
I stared down at the little yellow rose petal at my feet.
I picked up the petal, and I looked up at the sky. I promised myself that I shall avenge this disgrace. The rose petal was a sure sign. I will not tolerate this. I shall avenge her. I shall make sure that they all die.
Tell me I have a responsibility to them. Tell me that I should go back and help. Tell me I'm selfish. I don't care. I hear mumbles behind me. I know they are talking about me. I know everyone thinks I've gone crazy. I don't care. I don't care!
The last thing I see is the checkered, smooth floor of the airport.
I wake up in a new place. They tell me I have a problem. They have forced me into a room by myself. I was surrounded by white. Chained to a white bed. Looking at blindingly white walls. Staring at a machine with squiggly lines. I looked at the door. Dr. Elaine Melrow. What is this place? And when can I leave?
I need to leave. I need to go to them. I need to be left free. The captors would understand. Though they chained me here, they must have some heart.
At least one, in this group of thoughtless people, must have a sister.
The people in white are approaching me. Their eyebrows are touching the clouds.
"Look," I say. "I don't know what you want from me. I'm tired, I'm trying to get home to my....parents, Mr and Mrs Reve. Please. I don't work for them anymore. There's no need to attack me."
Their eyebrows raise higher.
"Who do you think we are, Blake?" The woman took out some papers. Kristin Marello, MD, her nametag read.
What the heck?
"Blake, I'm your doctor. And we've had enough. It's time for you to go home."
They were surrounding her. She screamed. Her eyes were wide open, the chocolate brown achingly beautiful. Her jeans and a blue princess shirt were ripped up. "Help," she pleaded.
My eyes jerked open. I touched them. Wet. Must have been the light again.
Chairs surrounded me, an uncertain circle of people. I sat in the middle, my eyes wide as I took in the sight. Hundreds of people, weapons in their hands. Hundreds of people, their angry expressions twisted with hate. Hundreds of people, their eyes boring into mine.
A girl stood at the back of the room, eyeing me warily.
"You aren't going to go monster on me, right?"
I sized her up. Green shirt. I don't trip, I do random gravity checks, it said. I laughed.
The audience behind us tensed. I have a vague idea that they want to kill me. The light is too bright, my clothes are ripped to shreds, and thoughts of my revenge dance attempt to get my attention.
But I don't care.
I glanced up at her eyes.
Deep, chocolate brown.
The girl, she was all that I could look at. Everything was gone, everything left behind, except her. The world had frozen around me. Her eyes brought me towards her.
I reached into my pocket. I placed the card in her hands, the rose petal safely inside.
She stared down at the card, and my heart filled with joy. Happiness. Everything was going to become right again.
She was alive, she was well, she was here. My sweet sister. My best friend. My Grace.
She opened the card. She took out the rose petal. Her eyes filled with tears. She sighed, and the light hit my eyes again.
She ripped the card to shreds. And the rose petal fell to the ground.
"I am no sister of yours, you murderer," she spat. Her eyes darkened, and my heart stopped. She was just like the rest of them. She believed their lies. She had been brainwashed.
She was as good as any of them now.
And at that moment, my heart beat for the last time. The sun stopped shining. All I saw was dark. I felt ice, and I felt hate, stronger than anything I know. There isn't anything here for me in this evil world. There is nothing left for me.
I grabbed the rose petal and ripped it to shreds.
A flower, once so sweet and innocent and beautiful. A dying flower. I laughed, and my eyes gleamed. A dying flower.