Lock and key

Chapter 4

Night time falls quicker than the day started. I avoid taking long pit stops so I don't run into any scouts. Each time I stop shorter than the last. As the night grows it becomes more dangerous for me to be out in the open so I try to find a discreet spot. But there's nothing around me but trees and grass. My feet ache, but if I stop now I'll risk getting found in the middle of the night. A few more miles won't hurt. As I walk a little further up I see tall buildings come into my view. I put a pep in my step, it's late and I need a place to rest, any place is better than the woods. I go to the first tall building to my left to find the door broken in. I hesitate for a moment listening for any movement instead. But its dead silent, besides the chirping of the crickets. So I decide to take the risk, I'm exhausted and have been walking all day. I pull the flashlight from the side of my bag to see what lies in the vacant building. There are a bunch of pillars and what seems to be what's left of desks. Either this building was an office or a school, either way it'll never be used again. I find a spot that isn't scorched badly or covered with residue and decide to call it a night.
Laying down a million and one things keeps me from actually going to sleep. Am I really alone in the building? What do they mean I'm the key? The fate of the world is on my shoulders, talk about no pressure. Am I really this screwed? Why couldn't I have just died in that accident with my parents? Why did Jackson have to take his own life?  Then something I've never thought of crosses my mind, my parents worked for the government. They worked in that creepy building I woke up in. I feel the rage boiling in me did they kill them?! It all makes sense now, Jackson was never depressed nor was he ever sad, he was always the happiest person I've know. Yet his suicide note sounded like he wasn't happy in life. I'd always blame myself for not loving him enough and for not showing it as often as I should have. I beat myself up about it for two months straight, thinking that I was the reason he killed himself. They took Jackson from me! I remember seeing Jackson having a talk with my parents two night before he died, I remember them whispering in the kitchen, I remember the looks on their faces when I asked what was going on, I remember Jackson kissing my forehead and telling me not to worry about anything, I remember him leaving, I remember the look my dad gave him before Jackson drove away; a look that said don't screw this shit up. I remember my parents tucking me into bed like they did when I was 6, I remember the tears that welled up in my mothers' eyes when she told me she loved me. I always thought my parents death was just an accident on the road, the cops said the car was totaled and so were their faces so an open casket wouldn't be recommended and they refused to let me see them. I was only 16 when they died, I was a kid in high school with nobody else, I have no aunt nor uncles, no grandpa and grandma to live with, it was now just me. I had experienced the death from the love of my life then they took my parents away, with absolutely no consideration for me. Maybe they knew all along what I was capable of, maybe killing the people closest to me brought out the darkest parts of me I didn't even knew existed.
All that crosses my mind now is killing everyone in that damn building and burning it to the ground, making everyone who was apart of this operation suffer as they've made me suffer for the past ten years. Ten years. I repeat in my head, ten years I've been on my own, with no guidance from anyone. Not realizing that I'm crying I throw the nearest thing to me across the room and bury my head in my knees as I try to gain control of myself. I begin to rock as I feel myself calm down. They will take nothing else from me. I straighten my back and harden my face and stare off to the other side of the room. I swear I saw something move, maybe the lack of sleep is playing tricks on me. Then I remember I threw a bottle in that direction, but why such a delayed reaction? I squint my eyes to try and get a better look but it's pitch black. I refuse to be kidnapped again or told how I can change the world. I'm tired of hearing I could be the hero, I don't want to be the god damn hero I want to be left alone. But trouble never seems to not follow me, with his friend misfortune right behind him. The figure moves again but further away from me. If I stay completely still maybe the figure will leave me alone, I'll pretend I didn't see it and it can pretend I didn't have a whole break down. As the figure is well beyond my eyesight I begin to relax and feel the sleep grow on me. Crying can make a person tired. I lie down to get some shut eye, I have something big planned for that son of a bitch ass government and I need those people in black to help me plan it out. I know I don't have to explain much to get them on my side, they want to see the government fall as much as I do. I fall into a deep slumber, to only be awaken by a nightmare, which had less of a feeling of a dream and more of real life. I open my eyes to see if it was just a dream, sadly I was mistaken.