The Hidden Transporter

Chapter:1

"Wake up, wake up!" A mysterious voice was echoing in a black void. I knew exactly I was sleeping. I busted awake and the face of the voice was arching over my own, it was my Uncle Johnathan, or John for short.
"We got to go, we have no time."
"Yes, but what about my bags?"
"Packed them, come on let's go."
I quickly raise my head. I looked to my left and the electric alarm read 2:07, roughly 4 hours earlier then I'm usually up for school, but schools been out for about a week now.
I dropped my legs to the floor before standing upwright. By now John has left the room, probily to quickly grab the last few stuff. As I started walking outward of my room I notice my bag was on my desk, packed to the fullest. I lifted it over my shoulders, but felt much lighter then it was. Like before I started for the door again, but more I stopped at the edge of the door more to take in the last of my room, as I know this will be the last time I will see this room. I looked to the left and my bed was tight agaisnt my bed, to the right was a small coboard that I kept my alarm clock and a book, "The beauty killer". My eyes traced all the way the the right where my desk was, spread with papers and pencils all over the top of it. A small office chair was pushed lightly underneath the dest. I remember when I would spin around in it to stall my homework.
The room was a light shade of blue, decorated with "5 seconds of summer" and "One Derection", the best boys bands of the decade. After everything happened no one knows what happened to them.
I exit the room and walk the end of the hallway filled with 4 doors, 2 bedrooms, 1 bath and 1 closet. As I get to the last of the hallway it reaches the Living room. I see shotgun shells scattered across the coffee table and John launching them into his 12 gage.
He noticed I was watching and said, "just on chase."
He throws the last she'll that will fit into the shotgun then thrown two boxes of shells into his duffel bag. He throws his back pack over his shoulders, holds his shotgun by the grip of the handle.
"Grab the duffel." He says and gives me a chin down.
I grab the duffel bag as his says and walk with him out the door.
We both throw our bags into the backseat of the green pick up truck. Before shutting his door John opens the action of the shotgun and lays it carefully along side our bags. As shutting the door I give one more glance at the house, a old shaggy house build on one floor. Having only the usual one bedroom where I slep, one where John sleeps, a bathroom which we share and two closets. The whole outline of the house was painted in a darker purple that has blistered over chucks of paint.
"We got to go," John says one last time.
As so hop into the passenger seat, lay my eyes one last time of the house, after nine years in this house, I finally have to say goodbye.
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First chapter doing alright, well if you really like it hit that like button. Any ideas as well, where there's also a comment button so don't be afraid to use it.