I couldn't stop. I would never be able to. Running was the only thing I knew how to do.
Fear was my drive. The fear of meeting someone, then as quick as we met, they would snatched away from me.
But that is life, is it not?
And I fully understood it.
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I stared up at the starry night sky, no longer polluted by artificial light from cities and towns. There wasn't much light at night-time anymore anyway; all the street lights were blown to bits from the last horrific air raid. What used to be streets and roads of tall buildings and warm houses was now rubble and dust, a terrifying contrast to the place I once called my home. I tightly pulled up my hood on my thick jumper, just as the biting winds flew straight through me.
I continued my walk, my black backpack thumping against my cold, bruised and cut body. I had gone a while without food, and the hunger pains were almost becoming numb. If only I could have a slice of mum's pizza...
No, I couldn't think about that now. About them, now.
All my backpack held was a flashlight, spare clothes, some money, a small knife, and a few other things I had found along the road. I also had a small photo of my family, which pictured my mum, dad, my little sister and older brother.
We were living happily, settling into the change of the monsters being set free from the underground. Unlike my other friends and their families, we welcomed the monsters. We viewed them as equal to us, and just wanted them to be happy. Of course, that was impossible for us humans it seemed.
If you were a monster, the only 'gifts' you would receive from others were sneers and glares. My father once told me that 'people make fun of the things they don't understand', and that could directly be applied to world I saw around me as a child. Humans were introduced to something they had been told to hate, and they couldn't think any differently. It made me sad and frustrated how people couldn't accept the monsters; they hadn't even done anything wrong to receive our hatred. There were families out there who had to live with this, with us. The guilt I felt was unbearable.
It all started 2 years ago, when I was only 15. The monsters were released from the underground alongside the ambassador- Frisk, I think their name was- and things started off okay. Sure people had their opinions but they mostly kept them to themselves.
What kicked it all off was when a monster was found 'causing trouble' as stated in the newspapers. Not one trial was held, no one questioned what had happened, they simply arrested them, and that was that. Riots grew in cities and people started to voice their thoughts on the monsters. As you probably can guess, it didn't go well. Monsters started to get arrested for nothing and what could they do? Nothing.
I cried for them, who just wanted to live. Who just wanted to smile and see the light of day for once in their lives. Who just wanted to be happy. From all that, came the war. Bloodshed, crying, death; it was horrific.
And only a few days into the war, that was when I lost my family.
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Thank you for reading! This is my first story, so sorry if it sucks o-o
Enjoy the rest...