Lost....

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

My life was full of death and misery. Disease and rotting is spreading. I’ve seen my own mother die. She had cancer. The people at the hospital wouldn’t give her treatment, because the end of the world was near. She knew it would have been worse to die with the cancer killing her from the inside. So she killed herself.

I’m by myself. Alone, scared and lost. I needed a hug, but there was no one there to give one to me. I wondered, was i going to die, or should i just kill myself now?

So I was wondering the streets. There was no one around, because either people have left town, are in hiding or have killed themselves. So I’m walking, no one around, windows smashed, cars turned over and it was dark.

As i was walking, i heard a sound. A trash can had been pushed over; i thought it was a racoon trying to scavenge for food. Then all of a sudden someone tapped me on the shoulder.

I screamed as i spun around, to see a guy who looked like he was sixteen, same as me. He was just standing there. He didn’t say anything; he just stood there and stared blankly at me for bout thirty seconds.

“Who are you and why are you out here?” he asked me with curiosity.

“I’m Alana, and I’m lost,” I replied, “Who are you and what are you doing here?”

“I’m Tristan, and I’m looking for people who are brave enough to be on the streets in this disaster zone.” He replied gently.

He smiled at me, it was crocked and he looked a bit scruffy, but he seemed nice. After a minute of silence, he broke it.

“Do you want to come with me?” he questioned.

“Come, come where?” I asked cautiously.

“To a safe house. It’s heated, there’s food and clean water.”

“Okay, i guess” i shyly replied

He took my hand and said “Stay close”

I held his hand tight, and then we disappeared into the misty street. All you could hear is mine and Tristan’s footsteps. We walked slowly, and then we picked up our pace. We walked for about half an hour, when all of sudden was getting pulled down.

Tristan had fallen over a pile of rubble and cut a large amount of his left leg open. He gasped in pain as he held his wounded leg.

I looked at his leg, it was bleeding a fair bit and it had dirt and rock in it. There was blood covering his hands. I looked into his eyes, they were screaming in pain.

“Give me your shirt”

Tristan gave me a strange look.

“I’ve done first aid courses; I know what I’m doing. So give me your shirt!” I demanded.

So he did as i told him to do. As he was taking his jacket off to give me his shirt, I was picking large bits rock out of the wound.

Eventually he passed me his shirt, and i tore it down the centre. Then wrapped it around the large wound. After tying it, i warned him “this might hurt” and pressed he shirt to his cut. He clenched his fists in pain.

I helped him up and we continued to this so called safe house.