The Designs Of Change

~Chapter 7~

          I flipped to the next page, shining my UV flashlight over the paper, but there was nothing. Which was odd, as there had been invisible ink on every page so far. There were real words though, so I decided to check those out.

          I can probably only keep up this ruse of being sick for a few more days, it's weighing on me, this whole situation.

          I think that they're always coming, sometimes I wish they would just give up, but I know too much. I know their secrets, I know their passcodes, I know their true names and I know just how much they're risking by this operation. Worse, it seems the more I-

          I blinked at the words. Why did they just cut off like that? I searched further down the page, and saw the words started again.

          I hate moths.

          If you ever come across a moth then don't trust a word it says, get away as quick as possible and perhaps you will remain unscathed.

          In this situation, I was not unscathed.

          It's perfectly reasonable to not understand my meaning, this is logical, mostly because I don't even really get it. All I know is that none of this would be my problem if it weren't for a particularly conniving moth.

          I blinked at the odd choice of words. A...a moth?????? What did a moth have to do with anything? Why did the words cut off just to start again???

          I flipped to the next page, and the next. The next few entries didn't have dates, and they seemed as if they were written by a Completely different person. The handwriting also seemed slightly different. More... rushed and sloppy. I turned to the next page, and my eyes widened at what I read.

          If it clears anything up, I am not Abbi. at least... not anymore. Sometimes I feel like her, but in the end all I see are my memories from before this whole mess, before the moth known as Sight ruined my life.

          I'll be fine though, this is very much a problem I can solve if I try hard enough, but there are bigger issues as far as I can tell.

          First issue being:

          lwt odjah xk sidml ld tch.

          I don't have a concrete timeline, the blood memories must have faded there, or perhaps it's part of the things my ancestors deliberately forgot. All I know is that one day very soon, lwt odjah oxaa tch sch saa du wmbscxlq oxaa tch oxlw xl. Lwt itxcvk ujdb usj duu xc lwt vsaspq sjt bszxcv kmjt xl oxaa jtkmal xc lwt sikdamlt htkljmglxdc du lwt wmbsc ketgxtk.

          What were those words at the end? Some kind of cypher? I would need to give this to copia for deciphering. But still, why?

(author's note: see my wattpad profile BIO for the start of the cypher quest.)

         It's been a rough few days. After leaving Abbi's home behind in a mad rush, I went to the research facility, fully expecting to have to fight my way to their information.

         To my surprise, it was already abandoned. I wasn't able to uncover much, only a few names of the latest targets, but that's still far more than I had yesterday. The key is back where it belongs and my next goal is clear; find these targets and see how hard it would be to get them out of there.

         This may not be wise, but from what I know of the upcoming invasion, it is very possible that hiding underground will save lives.

-

          I'm hiding the journal now, things are getting riskier and riskier with every attempt I make to help them. I only hope that whoever finds this (cough cough Aure cough cough) will make a more complete effort than me. 

          dntj lwt askl uto ottzk, x'nt gdbt ld mchtjklsch ktntjsa xbedjlscl lwxcvk, uxjkl, cd dct xk ksut, tntc lwt taxlt, lwt qdmcv, sch lwt idah. scqdct gsc tch me sk s lsjvtl, sch lwtq odc'l klde mclxa lwtq vtl qdm.

          ctpl, x zcdo lwsl lwtjt sjt odjahk dlwtj lwsc dmjk, oxlw axut mcjtaslth ld dmjk, gjtslmjtk ujdb lwt usj jtsgwtk du lwt vsaspq lwsl kttz ld htkljdq mk dj hxt ljqxcv.

          sch asklaq, x zcdo lwsl wmbscxlq'k dcaq gwscgt xk ld eml skxht dmj hxuutjtcgtk sch itgdbt kljdcvtj sk dct. lwxk xk... sakd xbedkkxiat. kd lwtjtudjt x wsnt gdcgamhth lwsl wmbscxlq xk hddbth.

          etjwsek lwt ctpl dctk oxaa it kbsjltj.

          Aure, I know you aren't the best choice for someone to save the world, but you are my only choice. Good luck, and let the wind be ever in your favor as you take flight into this new world.

          Don't do anything dumb.

          I closed the book, very confused. But all I could tell was I had to be dreaming. Dreams could make this up, right?. Dreams could make up my sense of dread. ...right?

          If it was fake or not, I dare not tell anyone about this. But going back to the park to check out a research bunker was at least something I could do. But... I couldn't come back and put my family in danger if somebody was after me.

          Despair rolled through my body at the thought of running away from my mom and my brothers without saying goodbye. Curse the government. Curse operation Longevity. Curse the kidnappers for taking my classmates, who I would most likely never see again. Curse the entire world for keeping me from living my normal boring life.

          Copia. Copia needed to take the journal and decipher this while I investigated further and tried my best to stay out of their reach. Or else nobody would have any chance of survival.

          At that, I took the liberty of packing up necessities. Backpack, pillow, blanket, changes of clothes. My own journal, and sketchbook. because what else are you going to take when you run away? I made sure to pack my bags chock full of canned foods and disposable waterbottles, enough to last me the week.

          I checked my money reserves jar, and ended up just shoving the entire thing in my backpack.

          I packed my car full of all the necessities, before walking back inside. This would be my last time walking these halls. There were family pictures lining the walls from floor to ceiling, taken on each holiday of each year. Mom had a huge photography fedish...

          I choked back a sob when I passed the year's pictures of us with dad, who had passed from cancer when I had only been seven. Dad's figure stood behind me and mom in the christmas photo, grinning down at his family with his signature silly smile. He had always worked too hard for his family... which would have been obvious from his full head of gray hairs with only speckles of ginger remaining in sections. Cameryn and kyle as babies were visible in mom's arms, and my tears nearly let loose. I wished I had spent more time with my little brothers... though they had often been annoying, I regretted taking them for granted. Especially mom... who had needed to raise three kids by herself for ten years. Ten long, beautiful years. I had gotten a job as soon as I could to help with the pay.

          I shook my head clear of my sorrow and passed through the rest of the hallway, stopping briefly to take a picture off the wall to take with me. I would never see my home again. Or my family. I would never feel my brother's arms around me, comforting, after an emotional breakdown. I would never again bear through mom's lectures, or roll my eyes when she walked away. I would never again spend Christmas being bopped on the head by plastic bats, or halloween walking distantly behind my brothers as they raced each other to the next house.

          With that, I finally let my tears spill onto my cheeks and sob as I drove away without even an explanation, or goodbye to my family.