A Broken Prophet Without A Message

Chapter One - The Mortician's Daughter

A thousand thoughts buzzed through Andy's mind as he half-ran half-limped out the hell that was known as a "Psyciatric hospital". If anything, it was the people who ran it that needed locking up, not the victims within. Andy had spent so many years in that place that he had almost forgotten the beauty in the night sky, the moon desperately trying to battle against the ever-dominating sun. Almost. That memory had been one of the few things to get him through those horrific times within a shred of sanity or a sense of self. He couldn't remember anything about his caring parents which put him through that literal torture for his own good.
Luck had given him the chance necessary to find a safe cupboard to hide in, attack a guard walking alone, steal his keys, pass the sentries and get through the side gate without getting caught. He was about to to try and figure out the chances of such a feat when alarm bell sounded within the building behind him. The adrenaline kicked in and ran. He ignored his leg which was screaming at him from yesterda when he refused to say grace and they snapped it for at least the eleventh time. He ignored the gashes in his stomach from the week before when he had drawn a symbol which meant to him the liberty he could never achieve, but to them was a pair of interlooping b's of death. He ignored his head, spinning from the fact that he hadn't eaten since two days ago when he was found sketching on the walls of his cell with his store of stolen charcoal. He ran until he thought he could run no more. He collapsed in a heap on the cracked earth.
He squinted his tired eyes and in the distance he could see something that should have chilled him to his very core. It didn't. He simply watched as a terrified youth like himself was slaughtered before him. He watched in understanding, knowing that the guard would soon leave.
Anger bubbled within him. Anger at the guard for snubbing out a life so new. Anger at his parents for dumping him in that hospital. Anger at himself for his own weakness. He dragged himself up, running purely on those thoughts and walked the mile or so it was to that fallen soldier. He took in her beaten and bruised body. She was a young girl called Eve Black - she had been the only successful escapee before and since Andy. He had seen a settlement on the horizon and was going to avoid it but decided to visit it. The chances were that someone was missing this girl. He wanted them to at least have a body, alive or dead.
The adrenaline had begun to fade away but he didn't care. He wanted to provide someone with the happiness he knew all too well was a precious but limited resource. He marched on and on and on without end. He finally reached the camp but kept going, not paying attention to the calls of the people around him. He walked to the place which he assumed to be the centre and lowered himself, placing the girl on the ground before him. He placed his hands together, not in prayer because he knew no-one would listen, but simply as a way of honouring her for the last time.
A single tear fell down each of his cheeks as he realised why the scene before him seemed so familiar. He had seen it again and again. Soldiers that had fallen, dying in an attempt to save the desperate prisoners in the complex he knew too well. His friends, dying because they broke one rule too many or decided to rebel in a violent way. The failed escapees, brought back cold and lifeless on stretchers.
He snapped back to reality and could feel the emotion of the crowd that had previously backed away from him. Some of them could clearly remember this girl's life, they were probably her friends. Andy didn't want to stay and decided that he should slip away while all eyes were on the body.
He lifted himself up, his leg begging him to rethink the decision. He started staggering away, taking one step at a time and concentrating on not keeling over.
"Hey, dude! I haven't seen you around  here before, who are ya?" A voice energetic, lively almost despite the sorrowful occasion, "You okay there pal? You've got a lot of red on ya there..." Andy paused for a second, the voice almost pursuaded Andy to turn back but he knew that if he did he could be never leave. The problem with this was that nowhere seemed like home anymore - nowhere felt safe. He staggered on.
He heard footsteps and a hand, presumably belonging to the voice, gripped his shoulder, not forcefully but enough for Andy to understand the intention.
"Listen, buddy. You're hurt. I just want to help ya. I will use force if necessary." Those words sent a shiver down Andy's spine. He knew that they were only used if someone wanted an excuse to harm you. He suddenly felt something prick his neck and stumbled forwards, not allowing the user enough time to fully insert the syringe or its dosage. Andy was backing away as fast as he could, keeping as low to the floor as a lanky giraffe could. His eyes were wide with the fear an animal has when they know they have been cornered. The other person could see it but stepped forwards none the less, a pitying expression in their eyes.
"P-please," Andy stammered, the fear he felt evident in his voice"don't take me back to that place..." The man stopped advancing, clearly unaware of what to do in this situation. Andy on the other hand knew that it was an opportunity for escape. He hauled himself into his feet and achieved something resembling speed. This time when he felt the prick he simply opened his mouth and screamed. Andy could see people gathering at a safe distance out of the corner of his eye. He could feel the ground shaking and large cracks emerging. He screamed for every emotion he kept hidden from his doctors and then he screamed for the people he knew had done the same, only stopping when he felt like his lungs would break. With a look behind him Andy could see three other people, who he assumed to be the other leaders, hurrying up to them and the man standing still in shock. With the last of his little strength Andy leapt over the chasm before him.
He didn't make it.