Apocalypse

3

Kate

It's been almost two weeks since I got out.

I'll fill you in, don't worry.

I'd like to say things have been going splendidly. Really, it's so much better than what life was in The Facility. Just not quite what I imagined it would be. I thought I'd be doing things on my own, but even I know that's not realistic without a job or some kind of funding or a place to live. And let's be honest here, I am hopelessly confused about other people. There's no way I can do this alone.

--

It has taken me a couple days to find the nearest city. By the time I got here, I had managed to get scratched up, the wound on my hand is infected, not that it bothered me. I'm immune to those too, I just need to wait it out. It will heal soon enough. It still hurt badly though, I can't use it for anything more than occasionally keeping my balance. Even that caused pain to radiate through my hand and up my forearm. My hair is a tangled mess, and I know that just picking all the leaves out will take some time and dedication. I also haven't eaten in almost two weeks, and I an about ready to pass out just from the hunger pain, never mind the weakness. My head spins every time I move to stand up.

I look up from staring at my hands. I have finally gotten to a town, I don't really know it's name. Just that it's on the outer edges of a big city, with skyscrapers on the skyline and busy streets. The view is amazing. It captivates me. I've never seen anything like this.
Lots of people are down there, I can hear them being busy even from this far away. I sit down on a park bench on the side of a trail though, because I just can't go any further. I'm so tired and ready to just give up for a little while. I can't shake the feeling that something is still wrong. I'm out, I'm free. I know they won't come after me. I'm just an escaped lab rat. But still. Something is just wrong.
It could just be because I'm just so hungry and tired and I'm freaking out internally because I have nowhere to go.

"You look like you've seen some better days." Grumbled a rough voice.

I jump at the sound, and I look up. Ready to run away. I had been pulled so deeply into my own thoughts that I hadn't noticed the older man stop in front of me. He looks like he has to be about fifty or sixty, but I'm not the best judge of age. He wears old faded blue jeans, and a deep red plaid shirt that's untucked partially. The red is nice to see. It's not white.

He has his hands casually in his pockets and seems relaxed, like he'd just been out on an early morning stroll and finding a ragged looking girl was a regular thing or him. So much different than the ridged posture of the staff at The Facility.
He has messy, peppered grey hair that had probably, at some point, been black as pitch. A short, matching beard grows on his face, like he hasn't shaved in a few days. His grey eyes are kind, something that seems so foreign to me that it takes me a minute to identify it.

I answer.

"I hav-" My voice catches. I clear my throat. Talking feels alien and strange, my tongue feels like a wad of cotton in my mouth, and I don't like the sound of my own voice. At the same time though, it's nice to know I still have one.

"I haven't. I've been out here for a few days, I got lost. I don't know where I am... I don't know where I'm going, either." I feel awkward talking, I'm slow and I mispronounce a lot. I know I do. But I learned most of my vocabulary through books that I'd managed to get my hands on over the years. I've only ever heard a lot of them inside my own head.

He frowns, like he doesn't believe me, or maybe it's pity. But I don't want anyone to know what I'd been through. I don't want anyone to know, and I can't give you a good logical reason why. That is, until I saw the pity in his eyes just then. I want to be normal and forget any of that had ever happened to me. I decide right then that no one will ever know where I've been the vast majority of my life.