Curfew

Chapter Three

The second I black out on my bed, the visions hit me like a storm. I see visions of the Before:the life I once had, the times I used to be happy...my family. All right out of reach. It is like if I could grab my parents hands, I could be pulled back into the Before. I could be happy again. But claws of Beasties are pulling my arms down, pulling me towards the fire of the After, the blackness, the hopelessness of it all. My parents smile at me, beckoning me towards them, smiling like nothing happened, nothing was going to happen. My sister giggles and plays with some toys in the grass. She smiles at me laughing.

Then Bombs come. My house blows up, shrapnel flying everywhere. My parents start screaming for me to help them, clawing at their hair. Their faces start melting and dripping off their faces still screaming at me to help them. My dear, dear sister's face is hollow, all the skin gone, her face stuck in an endless scream. Her toys melt into the burning grass, as everything goes up in flames. Animals, once squirrels and likewise, morph into Beasties, hair burnt off in places, claws growing, teeth becoming long and sharp.

A sharp gust of wind blows across everything and all that's left is the wastelands left behind. The After. I see people that survived crawling up from the ground, out from rubble. I look around and no longer see my family or my home, just ashes.

Then it starts again.

~~~

I wake up after the third time it repeats, drenched in sweat and tangled in my blanket. Shaking, tears streaming down my face, I glance at my watch. It reads 3:41 a.m. That's no good. I take deep breaths as I lay there silently. Outside, I hear the growls and screeching of the Beasties. In the distance, I hear the faint scream of an idiot that got caught by a Beastie. The screams gurgle for a second before cutting off. You can hear the triumphant screams of the Beastie for miles.

Midnight is laying at the end of my bed, oblivious to the horrors I witnessed in my sleep. I sigh. I honestly wish I had her ignorance, her obliviousness to the awful things that have happened to the world.

My mind drifts from thought of Midnight to Lottie and Isaak. I can't help but wonder how much family they've lost. How much family Jeremiah, Harold, Gemma and Phoebe have lost. Do they lay awake at night, wondering what's happened to their family? Where their family went when they died? Do they have nightmares over the Bombing?

As I think this, I wonder just how long a person can go before giving up and letting go of that final string connecting themselves to this world. Did that person that just got killed by a Beastie choose to be out there? Did they just happen to be outside before and after eight?

How much longer until I 'accidentally' wander outside too late. How much longer until I decide I have no need to be on this planet anymore? It's not like anyone actually needs me here. There won't be a funeral, no family in black attending. No friends to cry over me. Why do I need to stay here?

I ink that's the questions everyone in the After asks themselves. Why do I need to stay here? It's the question that determines whether or not you live another day, or you stay outside a bit too late.

What's my worth out here?

~~~

I drift in and out of sleep for a few hours before completely waking up exhausted at 7:53 a.m. I run outside of my little shack and hurl off the top of my cars. As it rains down, I notice dark blue specks inside. I curse loudly.

The thing about dark blue roots is that they make a really good weapon, so I use it as a powder. If you inhale even just three teaspoons, it can cause powerful hallucinations. Any more than that, death. I must've accidentally inhaled some when I was making it. You can never tell if you inhale some, because it dissolves instantly, and doesn't take effect until an hour or two later. That's why it's so deadly. You think you're fine, when really, your dying.

So good news! I didn't die! I just almost died!

At five after eight, I head out to the central part of the center. Wandering down Vendor Lane, I find myself lingering in front of Lottie's stand. Since it's still kind of close to eight, I know most vendors won't be open for about ten more minutes. While I wait, I sit on the counter of her stand. I'm still trying to figure out my worth when a figure hops up beside me. I glance over. Isaak.

"You okay? You seemed sick last night," Isaak starts, picking at his finger nails.

"I'm fine now. I accidentally inhaled some dark blue root dust, so I had some hallucinations. But I'm fine now. I'm just glad I didn't inhale a little more, because I felt like anymore I would've died,"I reply casually, trying to appear bored. I don't know why, but I feel like I have to better than him, and prove myself to him.

He nods,"Yeah, I know what you mean. A month or so ago I accidentally inhaled just a little-only a little bit mind you-and I had the worst hallucinations and a massive headache that lasted a week. It was awful, and I didn't even take that much into my system."

At that moment we hear a cackle coming from behind us in the stand. Lottie appears from behind the curtain and cardboard. As she sets up her stand she says,"I never thought my stand was a park bench!" She starts humming the 'kissing in a tree song' as she sets up. I roll my eyes at her and hop off the counter. Isaak's face is bright red as he hops off.

The rest of the vendor starts to open, so we wave good bye to Lottie, and I show him to my car stack. I really want to know more about the Before, and maybe even the Bombings. We climb up to the top, and Midnight looks up at me and Isaak before dropping off to sleep again. Some guard dog. 

"Can you tell me some stories?" I ask cautiously.

"Of when?"

"The Before, and if you want, because it really intrigues me, the Bombings."

Isaak chew his cheek nervously as he thinks about his options. "For now, I'll just tell you a story about the Before. It's   really special to me. It's about Christmas, I think..."

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Hey hey! Thanks for sticking with the book! I'm so grateful for the 80 something views, and all 9 of the nine votes (even though, comparing 80 to 9...something's fishy here...), and the 4? comments! Thanks for all the non-silent readers that vote and comment! And thanks to the silent readers (even if you are silent :P) for helping up the number of reads! Anyway, thanks for being lovely!
-Kaitlyn 💛