GUARDIANS25: The Book of Sirrah

Running Uphill 1

A few months later, we had not progressed as fast as I would have predicted. People at The Institute began to argue with each other about the littlest of things. One of the major discussions was about our independence. Some of us wanted the freedom to leave The Institute anytime they wanted ignoring rules and curfews to meet with other friends and family members. Yet, McVonte and Anora kept a very tight leash on us. They promised our confinement was only temporary, and that we'd be able to go where we pleased in the future. Many of us doubted a future even existed.

It seemed that, if you didn't die in the explosion, you still couldn't live. I had a family at The Institute, but I was realizing they were the only family I was ever going to have. We weren't really allowed to have a social life. We were expected to train, plan, and fraternize with each other only. It seemed okay in the beginning. Why would we want to go out? We experienced something very traumatic together. We understood each other, and we could never expect the same level of understanding from people on the streets who constantly whispered and made us feel like either celebrities or freaks, no in-between.

One particular day, I was allotted some free time to leave The Institute and decided to spend it alone exploring. As I made my way down the street, my head felt as if it were to implode with the next thought of a person I were to hear. I was still trying to gain control over my abilities, so my telepathy was very sensitive. Dressed in yesterday's garb, I kept my hoodie on for discretion as I maneuvered between the crowds of malodorous people. I only had one more hour until my curfew was over, and I always used that time to be alone.

People knew who we were—the Mallonites, they called us, those who survived America's most unexplained tragedy.

I was beginning to cross the road when someone stepped out of a convenience store and yelled out, "SIR-RAH!"

His voice sounded like the undertaker, deep and dark yet melodious. My body tensed and I shut my eyes as if that were to make me disappear, or him, whichever was more plausible. I whipped around and tried to appear sane with a manufactured surprised look on my face.

"Iceberg..." I murmured through a clearly transparent smile as he started walking toward me.

Now, Iceberg was one of those white boys who you just knew grew up around all the rough kids in the inner city. His oily brown hair was always covered with a white or blue silk headscarf, and his pants below his knees revealed his high school gym shorts.

"I can tell those skinny legs from anywhere. Where you been, girl?" he asked me.

"Is that supposed to be funny?" I suggested.

"You been awake for three months now. I been waitin'," he shot back.

I didn't have anything to say. After a short, awkward silence, I was hoping he'd let me walk away. So, I told him, "Well, I should get going. I have to be back soon so—"

"What's your rush, baby?" he interjected before I could even take a step.

"Don't call me baby," I said, checking my surroundings as I pulled on my hood tighter. "I really shouldn't be away too long."

"Here wit' me, baby, you have all the time you need. You know I can take care of you," he said, grabbing my arm. 

I immediately pushed him, much harder than I intended to, and he stumbled back. I balled my fist at him in case he was going to retaliate, but he threw his hands up in caution as if I was the aggressor.

"Wait, wait, wait!" he shouted to me.

He also began to check his surroundings, only an elderly woman had noticed. He cautiously approached me again, but I had no honest intention of attacking him. I just didn't like his romantic advances.