We Were Forgotten {ON HOLD}

Warehouse 9

~Craig~

Those years of being on the track and cross country team were really paying off. Out running that thing was a breeze, though I didn't understand it. It was making people disappear right and left, but it wasn't catching me. Not that I was complaining or anything.

My mouth and throat were about as dry as the Sahara, and I was sweating more water than the Great Lakes could hold. Goddammit I was tired, and this thing wasn't letting up. Every building I passed, people inside would close their curtains and duck down.

I looked around the empty streets to see where I could hide. The only place was a trashy alley, but I'd take it. Making a quick stop, I dashed to the dark wet place and went to the deepest corner available. I pulled my knees to my chest, out of breath and scared shitless. Unless that was the dumpster smell, I’d literally gotten scared shitless.

The light things crept by, like a lion stalking its prey. I waited, trying to hide my deep panting and the drops of sweat falling off my face. With the exception of it’s metallic sounds, and the screams and heavy steps of people far off, the city was silent. Which made it more frightening to be in a dirty alley like this.

It rose higher in the air and dashed off to harass some other hepless people. I relaxed and fell over, my muscles aching and burning and damn near killing me. I will never run that much again, I thought, wiping my face with my hand. “Ho…holy sh-shit,” I huffed.

I pushed myself up and leaned against the wall. I looked out of the slender opening of the alley and saw people disappearing as lights passed them, others running in and out of buildings, screaming their heads off.

What are these things? Why are they here? I looked around again. Where are my parents? I hadn’t even thought about them yet. They could be dead, or alive, and I was just sitting there.

I pulled out my phone, which had a reasonable amount of battery life left, and I dialed my dad’s number. It rung, and rung, and I just really needed him to pick up the phone so this call wouldn’t be a waste of time. He picked up and I called out his name. “Dad! Where are you? Are you oka-”

“Sorry of the inconvenience of voicemail, but please leave a message-“ I cursed and kicked a bag of trash in front of me. I called again, but it just went to voicemail after a few rings. He was either ignoring me, or he was dead because he would never not answer his phone.

I dialed my mom’s number, and it went straight to voicemail. No ring or anything. For her there could be a number of reasons. Hungover, drunk, sleeping, passed out, or dead. Either one would work.

By then I caught my breath and was able to stand up. I walked to the sidewalk and looked around. The street was empty, with the exception of broken in cars and trampled bodies. I gave a little prayer to them and then to myself before stepping out of my hiding place.

It was only about thirty minutes after I’d left Carmen and the others. I wondered where they were, and if they were safe. I told her I loved her. Why? Why’d I say something like that?

It wasn’t like she wasn’t my friend, because she was. And it wasn’t like I liked her, because I did. I really liked her. But I knew I didn’t love her. And anyway in the beginning it wasn’t real. It wasn’t supposed to be. It was just supposed to be a joke.

Her ex, who is my cousin, put me up to it. He never told me why, but he said that he’d pay me fifty bucks to get Carmen to fall in love with me. And, of course, being the Robin Goodfellow of the school, I’d do anything for money and to mess things up for people.

And that’s what I did. Or at least tried to do. Carmen’s very-what’s the word?-stubborn. I’d ask her on a million dates, and she’d shoot me down. But she’d still flirt with me and all of that nice stuff, and I got a crush on her. It was a really bad crush too. Like I’d dream about her, which is creepy as hell. But I liked it. And the deal is still on. Once she falls for me, I get a girlfriend and fifty dollars.