www.whyville.net Jun 12, 2011 Weekly Issue



sqeakers1
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Bleak: Part 2

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The emergency siren went off. Red lights and screaming women filled my sights and ears. It hurt. A distinct smell hung in the air. Great, a can of toxic waste that had been collected and stored in my sanctum had spilled.

To the safety cabinet.

Marjoyr ran out of her room, stepping on a rusty nail. She stared at it, the red blood oozing from her foot. She poked at it, and when the blood came off on her finger, she looked up at me. "What's this?"

"Blood." I replied dully. My throat was still dry. I needed water, badly.

"BLOOD?! What's that? It hurts. I can't walk. You there, ma'am! Carry me to safety! Be my prince!"

"Blood keeps you alive. Of course it hurts. A rusty nail that's probably covered in disease just pierced your skin. I'm your sister. And I'm not carrying you, you're fine. And I'm a lady." I slid open the metal door, gesturing inside. She glared at me with those rusty eyes and she crawled in.

I sat in the corner, trying to forget the claustrophobia and replace it with memories. I thought of the good old days. Skies were blue . . .

I remembered the attacks.

It was a beautiful day. I had been walking home from school with some friends. Fresh out of class with a packet of algebra problems to do for that weekend. We'd all been laughing. There was Amanda, Alexa, Jencynn, and myself. I munched on a sandwich that I hadn't eaten at lunch. We watched in awe as a huge blimp floated over our educational prison. It was low in the sky and dark gray. Nothing was on the side of it, no words, no advertisements. I suddenly got a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. I spit out my sandwich and took off, screaming my heart out.

My friends just stared. Their confused faces as I looked over my shoulder had been seared into my mind.

I got home, heart racing. I slammed the door shut, screaming. "Mom! We need to get to safety! Underground! Something bad is about to happen!" My brother Brandon lounged on the couch, sick. He was watching an old rerun of . . . of a TV show whose name had escaped my memory. "Don't look at me like that. C'mon Brandon!" I hissed, running upstairs. "Mom!"

I was half way up the stair case when I heard a whistling noise. It would forever haunt my mind. I shrieked and ran to the nearest window. I needed to know what was happening. "Oh. My. Gosh." I whispered, staring.

The blimp still hung over school, three miles away. I saw the guy I'd liked for a long time, Alex, stop on his driveway and stare. The whistling was coming from a round thing that had been dropped. My phone vibrated - it was from Alexa, asking if I was okay, and that they were still at the school wondering about that blimp. The round thing seemed to fall forever, when in all reality, it only lasted maybe five seconds before the explosion.

I sputtered, sitting up, screaming. Marjory looked at me. For a moment, I saw the innocent little girl she'd once been. "Stop your horrific mouth sounds." She hissed, crawling back into a fetal position to sleep.

I stayed up all night, listening to shouted commands from some cleanup crew, the emergency siren, and my sister's ragged breath.

 

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