Andrew

Alone.

Slowly, I feel myself slip back to life. I don't remember the last bit of my dream, which is weird. I always remember everything. Well, almost everything. Mostly after the Nexus, that is.

Slowly, I sit up and take in my surroundings. I'm in my room, lying in my bed. My mom must have moved me, like she always does when I fall asleep in the tub. The single window in my room is bright, or as bright as it ever gets where we live. I wave my hand over a pad next to my bed, flipping on the lights in the ceiling. The clock on my wall shows

9:37;26/10/08

Shocked, I shake my head. That can't be right. My mom always wakes me up at 6:00 in the morning, on time for Education. If I arrived this late, I would be in big trouble.

I jolt upright, quickly nabbing my holobooks and credits. Why wouldn't mom wake me up earlier? It's a Wednesday, the middle of school, and if I make it late in the middle of the week...

My hand falters, and I drop a couple holobooks. I hear the metal covers crack as they hit the floor. Wont be needing those anymore.

I'm starled because it's not a Wednesday. Actually, it might be, but I don't even know what day it is at first. Usually, I could figure it in a flash, but my mind is so confused, it takes me a while to work it out.

According to my clock, it's not Wednesday, 26/10, '06.

It's Friday, 26/10, '08.

It's been two years.

And I don't remember any of it.

My body doesn't want to believe the news my brain just told me. My hands go completely slack, and the rest of my holobooks fall to the floor.

Crack.

Won't be using those again. Not like I'll need to.

I stumble across the room and clutch my door handle. As I open it, I get a great view of our hallway, which is lined with cracks and mold. Cobwebs cover the corners of ceilings and floors. A couple leaves poke in from a broken window nearby.

Gulping, I take a few hesitant steps. I feel something crunch under my shoes, and realize it's a cockroach. I almost lose the last thing I ate, but my stomach feels so empty, I don't. Thank God.

At the thought of eating, my stomach begins to rumble. When was the last time I ate? Why can't I remember? Why does my house look like this? Wouldn't the Nexus do something?

The questions bombard my brain so much, but I try to ignore them and concentrate on the task at hand. First order of business: I need to find food.

I stumble what was our kitchen, and open the fridge. It has a few bowls of greenish stuff that doesn't look good enough for the rats to eat. Proving my point, a couple of dead rat skeletons lie at my feet.

Catching something, my eyes follow them to a larger pile of bones. Human ones. The size of Mom.

Suddenly my body grows weak, and I fall down against the fridge door, slamming it shut. I feel scared. Hungrh. And lost. But worst of all...

I feel alone.