Tunnel(On Hold)

2: Reckless E

I don't stop when I basically run over my final room mate, Jolene Diana Kate, as she tries to stop me from going down the stairs. She stumbles and hits the wall falling to the floor. She is still in her scrubs from work. Pale lavender, showing that she is a nurse in the elderly sector, it contrasting nicely with her warm toned brown skin.Her hair is in a close cut afro and her brown eyes are worried as I leave. She helps take care of them until they are 65, at this point they are sent to sleep. I volunteered there once to help. I asked them how they felt about it and they just gave me soft smiles and said it's the life we all endure and It shouldn't make us sad. With our limited food and water sources we have limited elderly still around. 

My feet pound down the stairs echoing upward. I'm not sure where I'm going only knowing that I need to separate myself. To get out of my own shock before confronting the situation in front of me. wind rushes my face as I step out of the front doors. By the time I'm at the bottom of the stairs, I was quite out of breath. I breath curtly for a moment, my hands upon my knees, shoulder length black hair falling to the sides of my face. My grip tightens, turning the pale but naturally olive toned skin white around my knuckles with the pressure. I let go finally letting the pink fade away back into my hands.

I start to hear the pounding of feet in the distance. I didn't want to speak to anyone let alone Jessie if she cared enough to chase after me, which in the moment of things, I highly doubted. I walk over to my bike unlocking it. I toss the lock in the pocket of my standard black hoodie and straddled the seat of the bike. The crisp bite of the cold metal in the palm of my hands a stark reminder of the fact that everything in the life I live is so close knit that I can't escape in the simplest things.

I shake it off, my bike being the quickest transportation away from here that I have.

I start to petal and take to the side roads, down paths I haven't noticed before and just keep going. There is no real curfew but people generally are inside by ten o'clock so I don't pass anyone by. I don't know how long I've been pedaling when I reach a abandoned area of land. Looking around in a bit a shock I realize that I haven't been in this area before. Confused I look around. It can't have been too far away from our community since I pedaled here and my legs aren't too tired. After riding a hand crafted purely metal bike every day for five months it gets your legs pretty toned. Not to mention my extensive knowledge of the streets of not only my community but the 14 surrounding communities for work.

The buildings are made of a material I have only seen a few times at the committee building. It being the oldest building we have. It was called wood if I'm remembering clearly. I step off of my bike and walk forward on the pavement, another thing that's been abandoned. Our buildings are all made of cement and bricks. Furniture is all metal and cheap. Our oxygen supplies from algae, the few sun lamps we have are used during the gardening lessons. The live stock is also kept above ground. I've never seen a cow, pig, or chicken, but I have eaten one. This place Is a ornery in comparison.

Wooden buildings, dark grey paved roads, and small green plants sticking out of cracks in the ground. Vines trace up some of the low hanging fences and damaged walls. If I can remember clearly these are called weeds. It's all uneven. Slanting and separating walls.

I lock my bike up on a small pipe that use to connect to a fallen chain male fence. Standing up I slowly walk into a building. It smells of mildew and an undetectable smells I haven't encountered before. It doesn't take me long to inspect the house of sorts it has tile floors made of dingy white and grey stone. There is counters, chairs, and a table made of wood as well. The site is quite bazaar. I walk to the wall, a decorative layer seems to be peeling off of it. Setting my hand against the wall the texture seems to be hard yet soft. I pull my hand away, a slight yellow powder on my hand. I rub my finger together, it feels chalky. I smells the powder, it's almost odorless. I shrug rubbing the powder onto my synthetic fiber black pants and walk towards the cabinets. The hinges are loose and most are already open. To my surprise the plate I felt was made of glass. From what I've read I thought that they would have had plastic plates in the past. Then again I haven't read much on plates so I wouldn't know. Our plates are all clear or plaster glass plates and cups, nothing fancy about them. I turn to exit the house when I hear foot steps.

I feel kind of relieved knowing that I could get some information about this place. Stepping out of the house I see three rather tall people in odd orange colored hazmat suits. I've never seen anyone wear this color of suit. They are holding black things I've never seen. They are small and shaped in the letter L. I make my way toward them slowly and I'm about to tap one of their shoulders when I hear what they are talking about. It must be hard to hear in the suits since none of them seem to notice my approach.

"I don't see why we have to come to this dump every day, it's not like these rats can even use their brains long enough to find this place. A five hour drive every morning just to spend two more hours to walk here just to walk around ruins for the day and repeat the process everyday. My favorite part of this job is going home."

Another man responds to him with an exasperated tone, "If you hate it so much then why did you even take this job? It's not a requirement."

I start to feel awkward just standing behind these men so I tap the shoulder of the man closest to me and ask, "Um, hello? What is this place?" I only seethe man's shoulders stiffen and a black blur before feeling an intense pain under my eye that starts to swallow my face and vision. I let out a small groan as I stumble and feel another hard blow hit my head.

"Shit!" Is all I hear before I pass out.

"Why are we taking her with us instead of just shooting her?" Says the first voice I heard when I had approached them. Two people are holding me up, my feet dragging across the ground before starting to think on the ridges of a large pipe that we enter, a tunnel of sorts.

"Because it's our job idiot, we don't know what she's learned or how many people will notice her missing presence will have on the underground." This is spoken by a famine voice.

I can't even hold my head up as my eyes flutter shut and I pass out again from exhaustion. That last thing I see is a light reflecting in the distance off the sides of the rusted tunnel. The air is full and easy yet hard to breathe.