After that encounter with my mother, I was unsure of what to do or where to go. The one thing I did know was that I had to find somewhere safe. Therefore, I had to find somewhere isolated with no crazy people, or 'Viruses' as I named them. As I stumbled down alleyways and empty roads with a knife sticking out of my hand, I couldn't help but wonder what caused my mother to remember me. It was almost like a part of her was coming back, like her memories were coming back. Well, she clearly didn't remember an awful lot because then she fucking stabbed me.
After 5 minutes of stumbling and tripping, I finally reached The Bridge. Under The Bridge was one of my favourite places to read and be by myself. Not a lot of other people knew about it, or if they did, they just ignored it and went to the skate park instead.
It seemed safe, for now. Though I could still hear shouting and screaming in the distance. I took my chances and made my way down (very drunkenly) to my usual spot.
My next problem was the knife. I didn't have much experience with weapons or blood, but I knew how to handle pain. I had read this book by my favourite scientist, Graham Grey, about blood and cells and medicine. I wasn't particularly interested in biology at the time, but anything written by Graham Grey was something I had to read.
Graham Grey was an amazing scientist, and had won many awards for making Earth a better and safer place. But he got a lot of hate for some of the theories he made. I loved him though. Graham Grey was my hero. He gave me something to believe in and something to look forward to in our bleak future. He was the best computer scientist in the world and he inspired me to take up computer programming.
Anyway, if I remember correctly (I read the book a good few years ago), the best thing to do in this situation was to pull the knife out; clean and fast. So I did. The pain was so unbelievable I thought I was going to pass out. Then I quickly took my flannel off and tried to rip a piece of cloth off as quickly as I could. It wasn't working, so I used the bloodied knife to cut a strip off. Thankfully, I was able to cut with my good left hand. I wrapped the flannel around my hand as tight as I possibly could to stop the bleeding. Also, I had a feeling that I had to apply pressure to the wound, so I sandwiched my hand between my knees, and cried through the pain.
Trying to focus on something to take my mind off the pain, I studied the brick arch above my head, and I thought back to the hours, even days I spent under it. Looking down, I saw the murky, but homely, river.
I remember once, when I was about nine years old, I was seeing how far my stick would go before it touched the bottom. The stick kept going deeper and deeper, until I overbalanced and fell in. Screaming for help, I tried to keep my head above the water, but I had only had a couple of swimming lessons when I was 5. No one ever came to my hiding place. EVER. So it seemed pretty unbelievable and quite a coincidence when a few strangers came to help me. Don't get me wrong, I am grateful for what they did, but it just seemed so strange that they arrived at the perfect time...
My nostalgic thoughts were interrupted by something very strange; silence. I instantly looked around to see what was going on, but I could see nothing. I listened out for a noise, something to tell me not everyone was dead. Then, I did.
I heard the heavy stomps of footsteps above me, walking over the bridge. Trying my best to keep calm and absolutely still, I bit lip and didn't move a muscle. I couldn't tell who they were, or if they were a Virus. In fact I had no fucking clue what these things were capable of or how human they really were. The footsteps gradually became quieter and quieter, until I could no longer hear them.
I exhaled a sigh of relief, but I sighed too soon because standing to my left was a black figure holding a weapon of some sorts. I was no expert on weapons, but I could have sworn they were holding a machete. The black figure had short hair, black jeans, black boots and a black leather jacket. I couldn't make out their face, as their were in the gloomy shadow under the bridge.
Shit.
I tried to stand up but I ended up falling straight back down, like Bambi on ice. I tried again, and this time I managed to stand, but there was no way I could outrun this thing, especially if they were a Virus. As I was busy regaining my balance, the black figure was already moving towards me, with their machete ready to attack.
I didn't know what to do. There wasn't anything I could do. My fight or flight response was irrelevant, because I couldn't do either!
My best chance at not getting killed was to communicate. I threw my hands up in the air and pleaded the figure to stop. Surprisingly, it did, with its machete two inches from my face.
"I'm not gonna hurt you", I spoke with a soft, but non patronising tone. Pissing off this lunatic was not in my favour. "I'm not crazy. I'm normal. I'm not going to hurt you. I've already been stabbed once, so I would appreciate it if you don't".
I was shocked and relieved to see the being in front of me lower their weapon.
"Great. Ok. My names Theo. And you are...?"
Out of the dark, menacing figure calm the voice of a young woman who replied, "Jess—Jessi—Jess-ica?"
Her voice seemed to be trembling, but at the same time it sounded like she was unsure of her name, like she had just remembered it...
((A/N: hi guys. If you're reading this then I just want to say thank you for reading this far and I really hope you're enjoying it. If you have any questions or anything you want to say please let me know :)))
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The Restart
غموض / إثارةThe world restarts. Chaos everywhere. Everyone's memories; wiped clean. Everyone's except Theo's.