Hexed

Chapter One

As I walk through the puddles and get my socks wet, my mind wanders. 

Everyone wants to be a hero, to be remembered. And everyone believes they are the hero in their own story. We all think we're doing the right thing, the best we can do. I know I'm trying, but everything makes me feel like I'm just letting everyone down regardless. I've been thinking about that a lot lately. The heroes of our past, what made them so special? We only know about the people who won the battle, what about the people just as worthy, but didn't make it. Who will remember them? And who will remember me when I'm gone?

Now, I know I'm not a hero. I've always dreamt of being more than what I am. I'm sure everyone has, but everyone seems to keep to themselves, as long as they survive, that's all that matters to them. You can't change the greater circumstances. Because that's the life you get and you can't change that. At least not here, not with all the chaos and death and agony and pain. I don't want to believe it, I want to know that there's a better future, something to look forward to. But all I can see are the dark clouds ahead.

A sound of thunder snaps me out of my thoughts as I walk down the empty street. The sun is just starting to drop below the horizon and the sky is filling with beautiful red and orange tints. I feel the water drops tapping on my shoulders, I don't really mind it though. It's quiet in the neighbourhood, distant sounds of cars, my footsteps hitting the pavement and the slight rain falling are the only sounds around. Still I drown them out with my headphones. Each step perfectly synchronised with the beat of the song as I slightly mumble the lyrics. The music in my head and -even though it feels almost impossible sometimes- a glimpse of optimism.

I'm almost at my flat when I start slowing down. I'm already late but I still really don't want to go inside. I stop and just wait for a moment. To get mentally prepared maybe? Or just procrastinating. I sigh and keep going. A loud scream emerges from the silence. It seems distant, maybe 5 blocks away? I turn to look at the street, but it's empty. The agonizing sound makes me shiver. I'm still getting used to the fact that nobody can really sleep full nights anymore. The screams of anger and desperation keeps us all awake. Nobody really knows exactly when it started or what's causing people to lose their minds. Some say it's a curse, some say it's an act of god, others say it's a virus. Everyone seems to have their own theory, I just wish they'd stop. I slowly walk up the stairs and close my eyes. Dreading every step, trying to breathe but I can already feel my heart beating in my chest. I get the key from my back pocket and open the front door. Once inside I instantly notice the familiar but still disgusting smell of slightly burned pizza and of course the faint sound of the tv in the living room. I quietly close the door behind me and start taking off my shoes.

"Mike?" I hear her yell from the living room.

I hesitate for a moment, finding the right words to say.

"No, it's just me." I answer carefully.

I put my coat away and walk in the living room, the curtains are closed and there Lydia is sitting in front of the tv watching some kind of pre-recorded reality tv show, she's probably seen a thousand times.

"There's pizza in the kitchen." she says with a monotone voice, not looking away from the screen.

I drop my bag near the stairs and turn around. It doesn't surprise me that Mike isn't home, he's never home. I just like it better when he is. Mike is nice, he sticks up for me sometimes. Lydia isn't a monster, she gave me clothes, food, a place to sleep. It's more than many orphan kids could ask for, and trust me, there are a lot of them.

I quickly grab a plate and a few pizza slices and walk back to the living room to get my bag and go up the stairs. But I don't actually make it that far. Of course, she has to say something.