Left Alone

History

Chapter Fifteen

When I was little, my mom told me of a time when the world was struggling. After a big war, a depression came over us like the one we were having. Granted, ours is much worse, but for them it had been a low point in our history. She told me that the only reason we got out of it was by throwing ourselves into another war. As ridiculous as it sounds, it made sense. It gave people purpose, a reason to keep going and fighting. Eventually, the world became good again. I'd hoped that, when the war with the hostiles started, it would unite us like it did before and we could live in a good world again.

I was wrong.

The Great Hunger hit in 2018. Crops died all over what used to be America first. Tsunamis hit and dormant volcanoes suddenly became active again. Earthquakes and famine became familiar. Some believe it started with the millennia, back in 2000. Things started to heat up then. But, that only helped provide a wedge between countries. After petty disagreements like race, religion, and political alliances, distrust settled like dust into the eyes that looked upon the world with superiority. Those philosophical eyes, so filled with sovereignty, glanced dispassionately at the world beneath them, to the children who cried and begged for help. Only they could foresee what was coming.

My mom was born in 2000. She was in the middle of all of it when the world went bad. She told me that no one expected it, no one knew, truly knew, just how bad it was until it was years later and they looked back and realized the truth. She said that life had been a struggle, but that was to be expected. No one lived without some kind of hardship. Now everyone had the same hard life. Everyone was treated fairly and given the same opportunities. No one had more benefits than the next block over. The only way you could get more than someone else was to be an agent, someone useful to the government.

Mother described her childhood as a climax in the evolution of society, right before the falling action. People could choose to wear different things, even developed styles that some people loved and some people didn't. For some countries, food was plentiful and people used paper as trade for it. They used paper for everything, because there was so much of it. They wasted air because they had the opportunity to. Most didn't have to worry about threats to their life and could walk outside without a gun going off. The way my mother described it reminded me of a book I'd once read that described a place that only some people, the rich people, could get to. It seemed likely; how else could one reach a place where everyone was happy and everything was perfect if they didn't buy their admittance? At the time, my mother was living in Heaven. I looked for it when I was eight, but I couldn't find it. When I asked my mom for directions, she just handed me a gun. I never understood her cryptic message.

The Great Hunger lasted eleven years before talk of hostiles started to spread. I was four. A boy not much older than me killed a government official using Magic. It was the hostiles' talent. By a touch they could kill someone. It started a panic once people realized that the epidemic was spreading. Anyone could be a hostile or become one. Because of the Panic, the government decided to do something about it. To prevent the spread, the world leaders united again and gave up their power. It was what I wanted, but not what I expected. They divided the land up into blocks and set out to separate and corral people into these blocks. As more hostiles appeared, the government officials became outraged and formed soldiers called agents to begin executing any hostiles. Since no one knew who the real hostiles were, everyone was a threat. Therefore, everyone was in danger. The only thing we could do was hide and hope for the best. Hope that they wouldn't be found.

I was eight when my mom became pregnant with my brother. It was the only thing that kept my family strong. Star wasn't even born yet and he was still the driving force that kept us going. He kept Father with my mother. That is, until he couldn't protect us anymore. The agents were always interested in him for some reason. He figured that if he left, he could lead them away from the three of us. But the Panic did not give birth to rational minds and we were hunted anyways. I always knew that that was the reason my father left. He had told me the day we took the picture that he loved me and my mother and would always look out for us, no matter what.

"X marks the spot, kiddo," he told me, forming the shape of an X over his heart. "I cross my heart and hope to die."

I hadn't known what he meant by that, just that it was a promise. It took me years, until Star was old enough to be out on his own, to figure out what he meant. And that is when we headed south.

I hadn't realized I was sick until two years after my mother died. I would have blackouts that ended up with me a block away from Star and I had to retrace my steps just to find him. I'd always awoke with a dead body lying under me, my hands on their chest and neck. I supposed that I had fought this person, probably for good or for my life. I never thought anything strange about it. That is, until the blackouts stopped and I could remember what I did. At first, I was disgusted with myself for choking the life out of someone. But then I realized that I needed it. A hunger, different than the one I knew and was familiar with, would take over me until I lost control of my body. But after killing someone, I would feel better again. I didn't like killing people, so I worked hard to gain control over my hunger like I had control over my other kind. Soon, a quick touch would heal me and the person would never know. I didn't have to kill anyone. I was still ashamed of my past, so I hid it from Star and never told another person about it. They wouldn't understand. It's not like I used Magic or anything. It wasn't anything like how the government officials described it, right before they all went into hiding. I'd never believed that I could be so terrible as the hostiles, the people who were plotting to overthrow the government. I wouldn't believe that I was part of the cause of the Great Hunger.

Once again, I was wrong.