Part 1: Old London

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I awoke that morning in a pool of my own sweat. With a groan I unstuck myself from the clinging sheets and ran my fingers through my hair. That nightmare had really got to me.

Something about the girl in my dream had unsettled me. She was so familiar yet I knew I'd never seen her before in my life. I tried to push the image of her angel face and metal claws out of my mind, concentrating on what was real. My skin, with no open wounds, my room with a cool breeze touching my cheeks. The longer I lay there, sinking back into reality, the harder it became to picture her in my mind and before long she was but a dream I couldn't care to remember.

I lifted myself off the bed and splashed my face with cold water from the basin. After giving myself as good of a wash as possible with the murky water, I got changed into the motorcycle suit that Baba had washed for me the night before.

I sighed realising how damp the sleeves of the padded suit were. The cold night hadn't shown my washing any mercy.

"Baba, I'm going to work!" I shouted as I briskly walked down the stairs.

My adoptive grandmother sat in the chair by the window, peeling the potatoes I'd brought home yesterday. As always, Baba's silver hair was twisted into two tight braids, a hairstyle she'd given me almost every day as a child. Her rosey cheeks and kind eyes, unlike her grey hair, had not faltered with age. Yet her wrinkled hands that wielded the knife only grew in beauty as she got older Through them, Baba carried her wisdom with the conviction of someone who had a lifetime yet to live and spread life to everyone and everything she touched. Although Baba liked to praise Miles and myself for keeping her lively, I know without us she would've found others to carry in her loving hands.

"Don't be too late." She demanded, waving the knife in the air. "It's your birthday, I want to spend time with my granddaughter while she still has time for her old Baba."

I rolled my eyes as I grabbed my helmet from by the door. "I'll always have time for you, Baba."

"Good, we don't know how much time this old lady has. One day I'll be 'poof'!" she looked up, wide eyed, with a playful expression on her face. "Gone before you know it."

My lips curled into a smirk as I bent down and planted a soft kiss on her cheek. "I'll try not be too late, Baba. But we need food for tomorrow and chickens don't grow on trees."

Baba gave a disapproving look before bringing her focus back to peeling the potatoes. "Well I have a small present for you so just try to be back before this old lady falls asleep."

I pulled my helmet over my head and zipped up my suit. "I will try but if I'm late leave the present with Miles and I'll see you tomorrow."

A overwrought look swept over Baba's face. She tried to conceal it, but it was too late. Baba had become increasingly worried about Miles and I over the years as we tried to get by with what little we could pickpocket or scam out of merchants and hoarders. At least Miles had got as stable of a job as possible with his knack for mechanics, leaving the pickpocketing and scamming to me.

"Just be safe out there, Koko." she suddenly sounded old, her liveliness gone and I felt saddened sad to leave her. We had little time together with me working in Old London, morning till dusk for the last three years. But I was saving, soon I'd have enough money to leave this place with Miles and Baba. I knew I could keep them safe.

I knelt beside her and gently clasped her warm hand in both of mine, looking her in the eyes. "I will be fine, I promise. But let Miles know to meet me in the usual spot later.'

I gave her a smile as I let her hand go and stood up. She returned a half hearted smile and watched as I walked towards the door.

"Hold on," Baba shouted, "I didn't see him yesterday, go check on him and ask yourself."

"He was probably at the garage." I shrugged. "He's been working late recently. But I'll give him a knock."

"One more thing!" Baba called after me. "Are you wearing your ring, Koko?"

I rolled my eyes and lifted up my hand to show that I was wearing my mother's ring. Baba had always been superstitious, believing there to be a transcendent familial power in sentiments such as the family heirloom. Even as a young girl she made me wear the silver band on a chain around my neck, telling me it would keep me safe. Despite the fact Baba had raised me, and was like a mother to me more than anyone else could ever be, she never failed to remind me of my birth mother's love and the love I should show in return.

"As always, Baba." I replied, wiggling my fingers at her before shutting the rotten door behind me.

It was late morning but still grey outside. The pollution and waste from New London always found its way here, in Old London. Even in the summer, the clouds always threatened to rain and whatever flowers sprouted always wilted before they could bloom, much like the people here.

Our small apartment was one of many falling apart in the old building Baba and I called home. Flickering neon lights advertising rundown motels and bars distracted from the damp wood and missing panels. One wrong step and you were gone.

I hopped over the parts of the wood that had rotted away to get to Miles's front door and knocked firmly.

"Miles!" I put my mouth closer to the door. "Are you alive in there?"

No answer. I hadn't recalled hearing Miles come home last night and despite what I'd told Baba, I doubted his reasoning for so many  late nights had much to do with work. Business had been tough and money tight as always. I couldn't shake the feeling there was something Miles wasn't telling me.

I knocked again, hard.

"Miles you lazy piece of-"

A cat gave a loud whine behind me, stopping me short. I turned around to see a scrawny ginger stray, one I hadn't seen before. I knelt down and slowly held out my hand towards it.

"I haven't seen you around here before." I smiled as the cat lovingly rubbed its face on my hand, allowing me to scratch behind its ears. "Someone from New London get fed up of you, hmm?"

The cat gave a soft meow as if to answer my question. I smiled again and gave the cat one last scratch before glancing at Mile's door, still shut. I guess I was going to have to wait till he decided to wake up.

After running down twenty five floors of the creaking stairs outside the apartment block, I reached the bike shelter. Myself, Miles and Rolo, who owned the motel next door, were the only ones who had bikes. Cars were too expensive for people in Old London and most people lacked the skill to fix up a motorbike with the exception of Miles, the only self taught mechanic in our small district.

Pulling down my helmet's visor, I hooked my leg around the bike. She was old and made up of so many different parts that the Triumph badge on the fuel tank was a lie. But thanks to Miles she ran. Well, just about.

I fired up the engine and sped off to the town centre, leaving a trail of black smoke behind me.


Author's Note:

Thanks for reading Chapter 1! Please vote or comment if you liked it, every read, vote and comment is appreciated. Image credit is below, the dystopian art is exactly how I pictured the setting of Old London o.o

Image Credit: http://hongwrong.com/hong-kong-dystopian/

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