The Catapolts

Chapter One

We have been running all our lives from the Catapolts, I don’t remember how and why they were called that, or who thought of calling them that. At just the mention of their name we scrambled away, looking for a place to hide, a place to be safe. They were vicious, ruthless and cruel. They killed anything or anyone in their way; they were the old-fashioned villains.

I recall when they wrecked havoc in my village, slaughtered everyone including my family but I was the only one able to escape them. I ran through the dense forests to the urban outskirts. The city was filled with a putrid smell, engines-powered vehicles, dark, slobbery water snacking through the asphalt roads, buildings leaning against each other, chimneys puffing black smock into the not-so-clear skies. I hated it, I hated the urban outskirts, it was so dirty and polluted I pitied the people who lived there. I am used to the clear air of the countryside, the beautiful blue skies, the never-ending fields of green grass swirling with the wind and the cottages dotted across the plains. I lived with my family in a humble house, with my grandparents, parents, two young siblings and a stables boy. But now they were all dead, slaughtered before my eyes.

I was hiding in the cupboard when the Catapolts raided the village, just a few hours before that I had a fight with my parents and vowed to leave the place instantly. I packed my papers, clothes, water and food. I was pretty upset with my parents for not letting me go to the college beyond the sea. I heard a lot about it that it was a place where people learned about things they loved and I have never went to a school. My parents had a few books about agriculture and animals that they taught me to read and I read through all the collection of books they had. Then I started reading newspapers and I was aghast by the news of the things that happened outside the village. I have never imagined that one day these mishaps were going to befall my own village and that day came too soon.

 I was scared to my bones and I wanted to save my family yet I couldn’t move. I heard my mother scream for my name, to run for my life and take my siblings but it was too late. They were killed right at the door of the house and the Catapolts headed to the living room to kill my parents. They were all dead and I felt that it was my fault. I didn’t have the chance to tell them I loved them and that I was wrong for wanting or even wishing to leave. I felt that because I wished that I wanted to leave, the cruel destiny has bestowed upon me such a fate, forcing me to flee my dead village and seek the help of the artificial cities lying just behind the border of the forests.

                                                     ________________

Three years have passed since the Catapolts’ raid and everything simmered down. The town went by its regular activities and rituals, unconcerned with the future of what might happen if they didn’t keep a sharp eye out for the Catapolts.

I lived in an apartment above Madam Ticky’s Floristry. It was one of the privileges given to me when I started working at Madam Ticky’s. My apartment was small, with only one bed, one dressing table, a small bathroom, a small window overlooking the street and a small bookshelf. I worked from morning till afternoon in the floristry until Kaitlin came for her shift. During my free time, I would go to a second-hand bookstore and buy me new books and novels to read. I stifled through books about classics, sci-fi, fantasy and history. It seemed cliché to everyone that I used books as my escape from my haunting memories and thoughts. They gave me a peace of mind and something else to think about.

 One afternoon, I sat and read a book called Oliver Twist and I was so absorbed in it I didn’t hear Kaitlin knocking on the door ferociously. I sighed in frustration, flung the door open and glared at her. Kaitlin wasn’t exactly the nice girl people presumed she was; she had an extremely pale face, prominent and bulging hazel eyes, thin feathery blonde eyebrows that were always furrowed, her blonde hair always worn in a pixie cut, her lips were round and large always set in a scowl (that was when she saw me or talked to me) and she had a small, plump body. She was few inches shorter than I was and I felt a little bit in control because of that.