Cruel World

Peculiar Flower

It has been seven years since any report of the run away bio-terrorists. The D.U.P, or DUPs, (doops) have closed off bridges and buildings that they think the bio-terrorists may attack or use to flee Seattle. You might be wondering what a bio-terrorist is, right? A conduit. Conduits are people who have these symptoms you might say. Symptoms like shooting smoke from your fingertips or running faster than any athlete while leaving a neon glow in their trail. These symptoms cannot be cured.

"Marina you need to stop watching the news it's just going to scare you." My mum presses the power button of the television and turns it off. "Mum I just want to know what's going on." I groan.

"I don't care, you need to go help with the nets." She said as she sat down on the other end of the couch. "But mum, there's no point. A boat hasn't docked or left the marina in seven years."

"You heard me." She replied.

I stormed out of the room but stopped outside the frame to hear her turn on the TV to watch the news.

"There have been killings all over the city. Traces of neon pink and blue swirled in unique strokes leading through the alleyway." A woman's voice comes from the TV. Killings? A murderer? Maybe it's one of the bio-terrorists.

I peek into the living room to see what they're showing on the news. A woman is talking to the camera, explaining the crime scene.

"Oh no, not again." My mum gasped. Again?

On the TV there were pictures of the crime scene. A man in a hoodie hung upside down in the midst of a rose drawn with neon pink and blue. Why a rose? There was also neon writing written in cursive. Trust no one. It said.

Mum flipped through channels only to find that the same news broadcast was on every channel she came across. "Piece of shit." She angrily turned off the TV and threw her head back on the couch. Her sniffling clear and obvious.

"Mum?" I called in a soft voice, careful not to startle her. She quickly wiped the tears from her face and sat up straight. "Yes, Marina?"

"Are you alright?" I asked from right outside the living room. "Yes, I'm fine love." She answered.

I knew she wasn't okay. I heard the agony in her broken voice. But I wasn't the one who could fix it. My mother used to be happy all the time whenever my dad was still alive. All of us used to be close, close enough to tell each other anything, even when the world was going to shit. When he died, not only did his boat drift aimlessly away, so did our family.

---

I sauntered down the crowded hallway of the shitty high school I attended and stopped at my locker. It was the second semester of my junior year, soon I'll be out of this place for the summer and in another year I'll be away from this place for good.

When I open my locker all the books fall to my feet. "Fuck." I groan.

"Let me get that for you." A mellow, accented voice came from behind me. A boy with shaggy brown hair and an inked neck bent over to pick up my books. "Thank you." I flash him a shy smile as he gently slid the books into the locker. "No problem." He returned the smile and left without another word.

I watched as he walked down the hallway, his hands in his pockets, his shoulders slightly slouched. It was a rose. The tattoo on his neck was a rose.