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My mother accused me of losing my mindBut I sworeI was fine

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My mother accused me of losing my mind
But I swore
I was fine

L u c y
Fourteen years old


I never understood why we always had to run. Hurry up Lucy she'd say Pick up your feet child she'd say. I hated running. What are we running for. Today was the first day of many that we weren't running. We were walking and it was windy and cold and my fingers felt like ice clutched between hers. My mother always held my hand, like she was afraid that maybe I would run away from her. Maybe I should've been. All along maybe it was her I should've been running from.

"We should stop here for the night." She told me, coming to a stop outside of an old warehouse. It looked wet and musty but it was better than being wind burnt and cold out here. So I nodded without a word. There was never anything to say other than nod and do as she wished.

That man's blood still lingered on my face and in my hair and the smell. Oh my god, the smell of whatever flew out of his head and landed at my feet was horrendous. I had been trying to breathe through my mouth and not my nose for hours. Nothing worked. I could still smell it. Still smell him.

At least my mother was clean. My mother was always clean.

"Come on Lucy, hurry." She gripped my allow now as she dragged me up to the building. I was right about it being musty and wet, but at least it wasn't cold and windy and I was covered in that man and I just needed to sit. I needed to sit and not touch the woman who gave me life because I hated it when she touched me.

"Stay here," she told me, pulling a dagger from her back pocket and dropping in into my lap, the sharp edge sliced at my leg but I didn't flinch. It was only blood. At least it wasn't cold and windy,"I'll go check for infected."

My mother left the room for what seemed like a few minutes. A few turned into a lot and by the time I heard the first click down the hall she still hadn't returned. The dagger was cold in my palm but I picked it up anyway. My legs burned in protest as I stood to my feet again. We had been walking for hours and running for days and I needed to sit but sitting was pointless when the clicking had already started and there was nowhere to go. My mother still wasn't back yet. Maybe she ran. Maybe I didn't care.

With a dagger in hand I walked towards the small desk that sat in the corner of the room. Never touch what doesn't belong to you, Lucy. My mother would tell me. She always took things for herself though and technically the paper didn't belong to anyone. So I picked it up and brought it close to my face. The room was dark and musty and wet but I could faintly see the outlines of the words that littered the page.

Space day celebration.

My mother had never taught me how to read. You don't need to know how to read to survive, Lucy. She'd tell me, snatching every book from my hands when she could. The man with the big friendly eyes and the black beard had taught me when I was nine. Mummy didn't like it, but she wasn't allowed to shoot him. Not like the man with the guitar.

I traced the outlines of each planet on the paper in front of me, naming each one of them as I went. Mercury, Venus, Neptune, Mars, Earth, Jupiter. Jupiter. Jupiter was my favourite. It was the biggest one on the page. Maybe Jupiter wasn't like Earth. I hope it's not like Earth and I hope it's not musty and wet like this building.

The door to the room started opening again so I dropped the sheet and backed away from the table in case my mother yelled at me for touching what doesn't belong to me.

"Did you find any infected?" I asked softly. My mother didn't answer. She never really spoke to me unless she spoke first. My mother also never really clicked like a clicker did, but right now she was clicking like a clicker did and I didn't realise it wasn't my mother until it was too late and it was running towards me and swinging it's arms and biting my leg and ripping my flesh. Then it stopped. The dagger my mother had given me lodged in its head.

"Lucy?" My mother never spoke to me unless she spoke first and this time it was her.

I didn't speak, with teary eyes I looked to my mother who looked at me with a terrified look in her eyes. She clutched at the gun that sat in her back pocket but never aimed it at me. Instead she blinked away the tears, shook her head and left.

Finally, I felt safe.

J u p i t e r

Present

I didn't feel safe.

The room they put me in was musty and wet and cold. My eyes were hidden behind a dark cloth and my hands had been tied behind my back for hours upon hours that my fingertips had started to tingle from the lack of movement. I didn't feel safe. I hadn't felt safe from the moment I felt her fingers brush my hair from my face in Jackson. I knew who she was by the footsteps I heard as she advanced towards me. They weren't Ellie's. Ellie's were quiet and sweet and soft and they always went to her bed first. Never to mine. Even if I wanted her to, Ellie's fingers never brushed my hair away from my face as I slept. Or pretended to sleep, anyway.

Ellie never called me by my real name. Nobody but my mother knew my real name.

"Come on now Lucy, we have to go."

I squeezed my eyes tighter together when I heard her voice. Like silk against the cold air. I didn't stand. It was a nightmare, it had to be. Then a hand covered my mouth as I screamed, as rough hands lifted me from my bed and carried me through Jackson. I don't know why I stopped struggling against them how I did. I don't know why I opened my eyes when I heard Noah's voice.

"Quickly or they'll see you." She had said but she wasn't talking to me. I knew it wasn't my mother who carried me, she'd never be strong enough. I was in a man's grip. Noah was talking to him. Telling him to hurry up. Not to stop or put me down and leave but to hurry. To escape. To leave with me.

Blue eyes caught mine, but she looked away before she could see the hurt that burnt through me. Noah. The woman that I had loved. The woman who had hurt me to the point of no return. The woman I had forgiven. Traitor. Traitor.

My struggle stopped once more. Maybe now this was my end. Maybe my luck had run out.

It felt like days I was dropping in and out of consciousness. Felt like the sun had risen and set and risen and set again by the time they shoved me into this wet and cold and musty room and left. I didn't hear my mothers voice again. Didn't hear Noah's voice again. I didn't hear any voice again.

Maybe I was better off dead.


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