Cy-Borges Cells

Chapter One

Chapter One

I sat down in the park, pulling out my notebook and pen. I tried to think of something to write about, but gave up. That day was too pretty to be absorbed in a sheet of paper. I sat down, leaning against a tree, and closed my eyes.

The sound of rustling bushes woke me. A man ran out of the forest adjacent to the park, carrying a large object in his arms. He had his back to me, but I could tell that something was off about him. He sprinted off in the opposite direction, towards the playground. Only a minute after he left, I heard a scream. Then another. The screams seemed to trigger one another. Eventually, it seemed like the entire world was screaming. Car alarms were blaring. Children were crying. Somewhere down the street, I heard fire trucks and police sirens wailing. All around me, I heard shots firing.

Almost as quickly as the noise started, it stopped; all of it except for the gunshots. The sudden silence was eerie and deafening at the same time. It seemed like the entire world was patiently waiting for the gunshots to stop, so everything could resume its normal routine.

Throughout all of this, I had stayed seated, but one thing made me stand up. I heard a little boy: "Mom?" He continued saying it over and over, with increasing fear each time.

Just the way he said it. It was so quiet, yet the word carried across the entire park. The boy sounded so confused and afraid. The maternal nature came rushing out of me. I ran towards the park, towards the sound of the little boy. I finally found him. He was leaning over something half-hidden by the tall grass. I walked cautiously over to him and put my hand on his shoulder. His reaction was strange. He didn't jump, or seem surprised, or even become more afraid. He just looked up at me, blinking through long lashes, and pointed at the object below him.

He asked again, "Mom?"

I gently moved the boy over and kneeled next to him, inspecting what seemed to be a woman. Her hair was bright red, like the boy standing almost protectively over her. Sticking out of her shoulder was a dart of some sort. From the position in which the woman was laying, it seemed like the dart has stunned her, knocking her out. I looked around, noticing for the first time all of the other children, standing over their mothers and fathers. Each adult was lying facedown in the grass, a red dart sticking out of his or her shoulder. I took a deep breath, reminding myself that I wanted to be a doctor. I was eighteen years old. I could do this. I looked back down at the woman in front of me. Deciding not to think about it any longer, I took care of the most obvious problem first and yanked the dart out of her flesh. I tried to carefully turn the woman over so I could inspect her better, but my weak arms failed me, and the woman ended up in a strange pretzel-like position. I situated her so she seemed more comfortable and leaned over her, listening to her breathing. Suddenly I heard the woman gasp. I flew back in surprise, almost knocking over her son. He took half a step back, eyes wide in astonishment.

I saw the woman's hands twitch, then her feet. Abruptly, her eyes snapped open. I screamed, and then took a deep breath, controlling myself. The deep breath didn't do anything when I looked back at the woman. Her eyes were completely silver, and the place where her pupil should have been opened as if it were a camera shutter, revealing a blood-red pinprick of light.

The woman sat up, seeming to be testing out her body, like it was a new experience for her to move. She looked at me, cocking her head, and made a strange whirring sound. The woman leaned over me, only an inch away from my face. She blinked once, twice, then straitened. She lifted her face to the sky and threw out her arms, "Come to me!" she whispered in a strange voice. It took me a second to figure out why her voice sounded so unusual: She sounded like an old record; her voice kept skipping and scratching over itself. She kept repeating herself, growing louder.

My instincts took over, "Go," I said to the boy standing next to me, "Run home right now and don't look back."

The little boy did nothing. He stood firmly rooted in place, his face still frozen in shock. He seemed to by hyperventilating.

I kneeled in front of the boy, putting my hands on his shoulders, "What's your name?" I asked, trying to sound calmer than I felt.

He didn't respond, still staring at the strange thing his mother had become.

I turned his face towards me and asked again, slowly, "What is your name?"

The boy took a few seconds to answer, "Abram," he said shakily.

"Okay, Abram. My name is Lauren. I'm training to be a doctor right now," That wasn't a complete lie. I had spent a couple of days observing a mentor doctor at a hospital for an elective class once. I was <i>planning</i> on being a doctor someday, "I know you're scared, but I'll do everything I can to help your mom, alright? You have to trust me, though."

Abram nodded, but I wasn't sure if he had absorbed anything I said. The adults in the park had begun waking up, which, understandably, distracted him. Each of them twitched and sat up in sync; as if it was a flash mob they had rehearsed a thousand times.

I ignored the movement behind me, too afraid to turn around and face the people that had become monsters, "You trust me, don't you?" I asked, then realized what a stupid question it was. Abram had only met me a few minutes ago, and his mother was extremely sick in a way he couldn't hope to understand. I shook my head of the thought and continued, "You have to promise me that you'll do exactly as I say. Promise me, Abram."

"I promise," he murmured absently, barely loud enough for me to hear.

I sighed, a little more at ease, "Good. Now run... Go!"

Abram's eyes widened in fear, the one person who seemed to be helping him was now telling him to run away. I gave him a push in the direction opposite of where all of the adults were standing up and milling around, as if they were lost. I continued repeating myself until he stumbled away.

"Take everything one problem at a time, Lauren," I said to myself, turning fearfully to stare at the woman who was standing patiently off to the side.

I am part of a writing camp, and I am using this story as my "final project" or whatever I should call it. I am presenting the complete story on Friday, so I will also be posting the end of this story onto my blog on Friday. So... Unless I happen to write some more tomorrow, I'll talk to you... er... write to you? on Friday! 😄