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chapter thirty-nine

chapter thirty-nine
unedited
1663 words

Your eyes opened to the sound of gunshots. You felt like you had just woken up from a coma, no memories on your mind, only the emptiness aside from the wonder of what was happening around you. You could smell the hot husky metallic aroma of the guns firing above your head, the pop sound never stopping. 

Your head was ducked between your knees, your arms covering your head in any protection, but mainly to somewhat silence the noises. To no avail. As you looked up, you saw a swift bullet go straight over you, causing you to duck once more. You couldn't think, you didn't want to hear, but mainly, you couldn't feel anything. It was as you had been built new as a machine. 

Looking beside you, you saw an abandoned makeshift blue truck. Finding it as better protection, you crawled towards it. The bullets never moved from their original line of fire, making it easy to move to the truck. As you came across the aqua colored door that was slightly orange from rust, you pulled the handle that obeyed with a click and opened for you. As you looked inside, you felt an emotion. Terror. 

Inside the car was a figure leaning against the steering wheel, bloody, limp and unresponsive. You could remember that blue hoodie and mask anywhere. Except the once rich blue color of the jacket had turned lighter, some patches of orange stained on the ends and fresh red on the collar and dripping. 

His mask was hardly white anymore, like fresh snow. Now, it was splattered and gushed out the color red, knowing that color all too well. The mask had cracks and pieces of it torn off, letting you see his lips. His eyes were also different. They weren't even there, by the looks of it. It was completely blacked out, distant, your mind was screaming that this was not the image you should ever have to see. 

You couldn't feel anything other than terror, no heart ache or the feeling of loss - just terror. You had also noticed that the windshield of the car was broken, a giant hole just centimeters above where Jonathan's head laid. Ripples and shards of glass caked the dashboard.

Bullets shot the car, you could feel the truck sink slowly into the ground below. The tires had been popped. Next, bullets shot at the hood of the car, and the back, sending loose glass from the windshield everywhere in a slip-second. 

Shielding your face with your arms, you could feel the car sway left and right from the impacts. You knew what they were trying to do. The hood had caught on fire, and you knew this was it. The car exploded, but you couldn't feel it, only see it.

As you opened your eyes once more, you saw yourself laying against the dirt. Bullets had ceased and for once, everything was silent. Your arms that were in your face were tattered in dirt and blood, scars from the glass cut open your skin. 

Your breathing hitched, and you couldn't feel anything anymore. Your vision was suddenly no more, and you couldn't see anything. It was a mix of white and black, it felt gray. Voices swarmed your head, and you could feel something against your stomach and hair, like the wind. A gentle breeze. As if you were falling down the rabbit hole like Alice.

"You think you're really going to accomplish this?" The voice asked, once again your father's.

"You're going to let them down like you did us!" Your mother shouted.

"Jonathan will realize what you are and then they'll kill you. Do you really want that, dear sister?" Your brother mocked. You wanted to hold your ears, to not hear it anymore. But you couldn't feel your limbs.

"Go away." You muttered, not feeling your lips move as you said the words. They kept screaming, yelling at you. "Go away!" You yelled louder, to no avail. "Go away! Go away! Go away!" You screamed and felt something touch your shoulder. You actually felt something.