Stories of a future past

Prologue

To what extends would you go to escape your personal demons? My mother used to say, that no matter how fast you ran, or how good you hid, they would always reach you. So, would you keep on running? Or would you learn to deal with them? I was the kind of person who ran away from everything, including the good things. But, one day, I got tired of running away. The past I so longed for to stay in the past, ended up catching up, and becoming my future.

“As a reporter and known author, you should know better than to take sides in political affairs, Alana”

Now this was part of an everyday thing. As a reporter, you’re born with a natural need to seek justice, and to speak up when you see something suspicious. Or at least, that seemed to only apply to me. My boss gave up a long time ago on the whole ‘you’re going to get fired’ gig, especially when my book got critically acclaimed.

“My dear George—“

This was the beginning of a futile conversation.

“Politics will be politics. I hate taking sides with people who win so much and do so little for this country, but, if I see that the opposing team is doing something illegal, am I supposed to stay quiet and act as if I saw nothing?”

“Yes, yes you should” Replied George with an aggressive nod. “You’re going to get yourself hurt one day if you keep snooping around those peoples business”

“I’d rather die like a hero then live like a coward. And I wasn’t snooping around”

George sighed; he knew he had no way of arguing after I said that. It was nice that he cared for me, but my ideals were harder than my head. He cleared his throat; taking out an archive from his desk.

“What’s this?” I asked as he passed it to me.

“Your next job little miss hero”

I couldn’t help but laugh. At this point he seemed more like an angry father than an annoyed boss.

“This will keep you of the radar a few months, I hope. I was going to give the job to Natasha, but you seemed more adequate for it then her”

My eyes grew open once I reviewed the papers.

“You have got to be kidding me”

“Why is that?”

I looked away; trying to avoid eye contact. He was sending me back to that place. On purpose.

“Why didn’t you send Natasha?”

An eyebrow rose at the question; he leaned closer, trying to keep the conversation as low as he could.

“I know what your co-workers don’t, Alana. You might not talk about it, but you should have known I was going to find out, sooner or later”

I felt a lump in my throat. He was sending me back to that part in my life which I preferred to ignore. I wasn’t aware how or when he dug up so much information, but it was true: he was bound to know one day.

“I don’t know what happened, or who lives there, or any of that personal stuff. All I know is you have the connections we need to dig up that story. What happened to all the ‘I’d rather be a hero thing’?”

He made me want to take all those words back.

“I won’t do it”

“Until when do you plan to hide?”

“You’re my boss, George. Not my psychiatrist”

I gave him a nod and stood up; fixing my shirt before walking out. Before I managed to open the door, George made his last attempt to convince me.

“Two innocent people were killed, Alana. You and I know this wasn’t just because they got robbed. They had influences, land and money. You and I know this was political murder”

“Oh? What happened to ‘taking sides’ and ‘snooping around’?”

“That never stopped you from doing so, did it?”

I stood there, quiet; motionless.

“You have 24 hours to accept the job”

With those words, I opened the door and walked away.

The beginning of my nightmare begins here.