Shards | Shatter Me Oneshots

2

I wake up on the ground.

Again.

Lately, the illusion of a bed, even a simple cot is harder to keep as a solid image for the whole night. I think I'm becoming weak due to a lack of food and proper sleep. Also, the fluctuating weather makes getting sick easy. For one fleeting moment, I think of returning home, then feel the burn of scars on my back and wince. Never again. The teeth-gritting pain of scars that never healed properly has also been harder not to feel lately. I sigh, and wrap my arms around myself again, rocking my body back and forth. With nothing else to do, I wind my scarf around my neck, zip up the plush jacket I stole from my dad, shoulder the only things I own and start walking.

Where to? I'm not sure. Just away from my family city place I used to call 'home'. What a bunch of BS. Nothing the Reestablishment promised was true, but I shouldn't be surprised anymore. What has the government ever done to help us?

The ground is cold and hard, and my worn boots beginning to feel the pressure of carrying me. Another day, another human necessity I must forgo. Thinking of all the rich government officials with hot water and boots they probably throw out after each wear fills me with anger, and I try to push the heat to the surface of my skin in a last-ditch effort to keep myself warm. Maybe I could die out here and nobody would know. I could die out here, my body would freeze over and they'd never find it. The Reestablishment doesn't come out here much, which while useful for allowing me to travel in the open air, can make it harder to find their food store, as there are far fewer. I'm so wrapped up in my thoughts I don't hear the tank approaching me. I don't see the small lights they've allowed themselves to turn on. I don't notice anything until the tank is right up in my face. Literally. I'm not sure what to do, but something stirs inside of me, as if waking up, and my fingers tug on the shadows around me, pulling on the blackness and taking the little light that comes from the headlights of the tank. Ice-cold terror fills my veins as I wrap the bands of light and shadow around the tank, pulling my arms tight I can hear shouts of "Did we run over that girl?" and "Wait! Where are our lights?"

I flex my fingers, and like it's the easiest thing in the world, the tank is pushed back, away from my face. I twist my arms and turn the tank 180 degrees. Then I run. I run faster than I have in my entire life, running with my heavy clothing and backpack weighing me down, run even though that's all I've been doing for the past 278 days. I hear one, very loud. "Holy SHIT!" Then I hear nothing but the wind rushing through my ears. Until I'm knocked to the ground.

I'm on my feet as fast as my jacket can allow it, and I take a crouching stance, should I need to fight. I'm well aware I must look ridiculous: a 17-year-old girl with matted hair, a too-big coat, bulging backpack. Crouched in a fighting stance.

The air is knocked out of my lungs, I fall to the ground. I struggle against... seemingly nothing?

"What the hell?" I gasp out.

"Nice stance. Too bad you couldn't catch me."

"Where are you?"

"You know," The voice is laughing. "People usually ask me who I am first."

"Yeah, well I don't care." I spit, struggling against the invisible boy's surprisingly muscular arms.

"Tsk, tsk now you've hurt my feelings. Ow."

I roll my eyes. This guy. "So can you let me go now?"

"Let go of a pretty girl? No."

"Oh, shut up and tell me why I'm in your arms." I realise what I've said too late, and a hot blush creeps up my face. Well, at least I'm not cold anymore. Also, flirting with this mystery guy is a bad idea. He could be ugly for all I know. Am I really crazy?

"Yeah, we need to have a little chat about what you did back there with our tank."

"Is anyone hurt?" It feels like the appropriate thing to say.

"Nope! But you do need to come with us." Something shifts, and I can see a boy. He has oil-slick hair, deep eyes and a chiselled-shaped face. Definitely not ugly. In the dim light, I can see not too much more except for the clearly military clothing. I tense up.

"Let go of me!"

"Woah kid, do you have a fever or something?" He loosens his grip, still holding me in his arms.

I don't reply.

He stands up and brushes himself off. "Are you coming or not?"

"Why would I come with a... soldier?" I practically spit the last word, packing as much disdain in it as possible.

"Uh, escaped soldier. Did you not see what I just did?"

"Appeared out of thin air?" This is the weirdest human interaction I've had in the past month. It's also the only one I've had.

"No, this." He flickers. Like actually flickers.

"How do I trust you?" I cross my arms in front of me, tucking the bulky sleeves under each other.

"Look,- what's your name?"

"August." I can't believe I just told a soldier my real name.

"Look August, we're going somewhere. Somewhere where whatever the fuck you have going on with those shadows can be explained, where you can help us. I don't think you want to spend your entire life covered in shit, wandering unmarked territory.

"Where are you going?"

"How do I trust you?" He mocks me, which makes me irritated again.

"Don't you want me to come with you?"

"Oh damn," He laughs. "You have got something going for you, that's for sure."

"Just tell me where we're going!" This boy is playing me like a violin, and I simply don't have the mental capacity for this right now.

"Omega Point."

My heart catches in my throat. I've never heard of this place, but something strikes me inside. This - this is the place I'm running to.