The End of The Beginning

Chapter 6

Chapter 6: 

            I felt the wind rushing up my face. I had already fallen two stories. Only three more to go.

Three:

Please god let me live

Two:

I will be a better person

One:

SAVE ME! I PROMISE I WILL!

BAM!

 

I landed in a…mattress junkyard? SCORE! Life was good. I could see the people robots trying to walk out the window. It was a matter of time before actual (not computer powered?) people came to get me.

            Would I have time to run? What if they called the police? What if? What if? What if? What if they tortured Grace? What if I died? What if nothing was worth it? What if I turned out like Grace.

            STOP. I told myself. Just stop. I had to be positive. Think of what could lie ahead of me. There could be glorious bakeries. Except for the fact that I didn’t have money. SHUT UP MIND! Maybe some nice family would adopt me. Maybe. There weren’t any robot people in sight, but they could not be too far away. I ran faster.

            My heart was pounding against my rib cage. My feet were burning from the soles of my ripped shoes. The ground was fire and the air was wood, dropping the fuel, just adding to my anger.

            I left Grace. It made me want to turn back. But she was already gone. Life was over. Not quite. Leaving Grace made me think of my parents. They would want at least one of us to survive. I pressed on. My heart was beating so quickly that I thought it would fly right out of my chest. I was flying. The wind was rushing, pushing back my tangled hair.

            I felt like a bird. I was free, for a moment. I saw Grace.

Her small body pushed in front of mine. “Save me,” she said in a robotic tone. “Save me.” She repeated herself. She was no longer my sister. Her hair was a pale grey and her already pale face turned to a color that looked no longer like flesh. She was in a grey romper, now, with a black shirt under. She had grey socks and black shoes. She looked worse than most of the girls who were at the orphanage. She was no longer my sister.

I pushed her as hard as I could. She would not budge. I punched her in the stomach and then the face. She recoiled. She was no longer only grey. Red was dripping from her nose and mouth. She was crumpled on the floor. I did not feel bad for even a moment. I felt pride. And ran on, my head held high.

I thought of my parents, and their (would be) disappointment in me. This thought made me keep running. I was fueled on anger and fear. I could run from fear. I could try at least. I looked over my shoulder. Her crumpled body still lay there. Untouched. How could she have caught up to me? She, no offense to her, was the slowest runner I knew. This thought frightened me to the ends of the Earth. And that might be where I am going.