The Perplexing Ways of Hollinson Gray

Chapter 2: Lost

Gran and I have to go into the city to gather materials for the initiation. See, when New York City fell, a lot of supplies were left untouched but our people could gather them and revive them. I guess we are really the Gods amongst men, but I shouldn't say that considering the riots that tore this city to the ground and made its society crumble were for a biblical God that never loved them. Many of them fear us, the unchanged—they hid in underground bunkers whilst we felt the sun tingling on our skin, it's a little sad.

Stampeding through the abandoned city, listening to the sounds of the animals that survived the radiation that pummeled this beautiful and unique array of a planet. Clearly we are the only ones, it's been hundreds of years since the comet hit and still no one helps us, me and the changed are vastly unique in our own sense — at least and we'd rather be on a planet that flourishes with life than on one that is barren and empty in most of its previous oases. I would never praise anyone for war, obviously, war is a major issue and controversial topic amongst "regular people" or what are now classified as humans. I'm different than the masses, but I wanna fit in, I don't wanna live in a world that will constantly dismiss me and shun me out of the way for being who I am.

I guess that the unchanged only lasted so long because they were afraid of us, and because we live longer, way longer, or maybe they were scared of what we could be.

I guess they never really saw us or met any of us, because we are the epitome of human kindness, or at least that's what mom used to say. I miss mom, but after all she is dead — and i'll never see her again, and she died horribly and I guess that image permeated and rotted into my brain, permanently making me feel guilty. I'd rather not think about it.

As we walk along the cities crumbled pathways, I feel a tingle of regret hit me, maybe the guilt that I sometimes fear it's my fault had hit me — she would have definitely told me differently, scowled at me and told me off, and maybe that's cause she loved me more than anything. When I was little, she said that I was "her fallen star and that she could never ever do anything to hurt me in anyway," which stuck. I really miss her, the way she smelled of dirt — the sound of her voice, the energy that followed when she entered a room, yet there was nothing, it was all gone so suddenly, I had lost the one thing that held me, kept me safe. I was lost.

I have grandmami, someone who raised her — carried her as her own.

Grandmami is a strong substitute. She makes me feel safer than I used to. It must have been tough for her to wander this barren landscape alone, I wish she hadn't, but I wasn't even born yet — so I had no say. Apparently before the tribe could hone their abilities, they couldn't heal the ground, there was nothing left standing, it was all decimated by the bombings. I don't actually know if that's true, but that's what she told me.

"Did you know, that I was there when they dropped the bombs?" she said quietly, not intentionally but her voice was fragile and soft.
"I did grandmami, you've told me before," I replied, reassuring her that I have indeed been told before.

I'm glad I didn't see it, the land was horrible and incredibly difficult to fix. I'm surprised that they even did it successfully in all the time that passed, they for sure thought that it was far too late for mother nature, but they pushed those boundaries. It must have been hard, but I'm proud. Grandmami is super intriguing though, I love her and absolutely adore her but I really don't know much about her backstory, especially since she's been around for so long.

"Grandmami.... please please please tell me!" I really want to know what it was like, but I don't really wanna experience the terror first hand, seems like a tale of tragedy. I guess I'm stuck in between two panes of glass, slowly squeezing me for information and I can't get out of the sides I came in through.

I regret a lot, sometimes I would shun grandmami aside and pretend she didn't exist, especially after mom died, I cut everyone out. I still feel guilty about it, it probably hurt her a lot, to lose a child and then a grandchild.

Okay, maybe If I ask her nicely she will finally spill some of her secrets. I really hope so, because I can sense her energy needing to be let out. Walking around the city reminds me of the past, I miss mom taking me to find new things for my collection, sometimes I feel her all around me; swirling around me like a swarm of soft autumn leaves falling in a hurricane of wind.

I sometimes wish I died, so I could be with her, but I know that would tear apart our family, and I don't want her to destroy something already riddled with pain. They've already lost so much—I love them, and I don't wanna think about what they'd do without me.

"Do you have any stories of the old world?"

She lived through the Great War of Atrox, she was incredibly old. Grandmami is 278 years old and she doesn't look a day over 75. I'm only a baby in this world, hopefully it's still standing when I'm that old.

The city feels strangely empty, as we walked back further into the untouched sectors, the noises of animals hushed and the sound of water stopped. I was tuned into these things, like a radio tower — the noises pinging back at me, although I hadn't fine tuned this ability — the acuteness of it was there, something immeasurable.

Something was wrong.
"Grandmami, I think it's time to head back."
She shook her head agreeing, sensing it too.

Suddenly, a burst of air hit me — pushing me back, tumbling to the street. Something hit my head, the world around me slowly faded away into darkness.