The Falling

Chapter 2

"Lance! You've got to get up! You are very late for school!"

I open my eyes and look at my mother. All last night I stared at the white screen of my phone, just staring until my eyes felt like they had melted. Now they were bloodshot to make my sickness seem more real and urgent. When I went to sit up I crumpled, grabbed my side and moaned. I may have a headache, but I have to get some things ready in case something happens. After watching the news yesterday, I felt that I had to be prepared.

"Lance, are you alright? You don't look so good. Are you feeling okay?", my mother asks, sitting down on the end of my bed.

I tell her I feel nauseous and that I have a headache which isn't completely a lie. She nods with a sympathetic face and walks off to go get some aspirin. She comes back with a glass of water and a pill. I take the pill and take a sip of water and lay back down.

"If you really don't feel good then maybe you should stay home." She tells me. Wow. I didn't think it would be so easy to stay home. Usually she tells me to just suck it up and I have to work harder to convince her. Then I remember that she has to be at a meeting early today for her new job that she barely managed to score since there were so many other people looking for jobs. She couldn't be late.

"I think I'm going to be sick. You've got to go or you'll be late for your meeting." I mumble.

"Well, okay. I'll call the school and tell them that you won't be there today. I'll see you tonight. Love you."

"Love you. Go make some money." I reply jokingly. She leaves and a moment later I hear the door close and lock. My grandpa walks by my door.

"You sick?" He asks me in this deep, threatening voice which always scares me even though I know he would never hurt anyone unless he had to. Which he absolutely could. He grew up on a farm and drove tractors and things like that so he has a very bulky body.

Yes, I reply and he nods.

"You want some of grandpa's old cough medicine?" He questions with a sly smile on his face.

"No grandpa, I don't think Mom would approve of me drinking whiskey.

"Oh, she'll never notice as long as you don't drink too much." He says laughing and he walks off to his room. That man has so many stories to tell. He could make series of books about his stories, which my mom encourages him to do. Honestly, I think they would be great. However, he says that the best stories are saved for most special people in your life. Grandpa can be very philosophical like that.

Anyway, my mom was gone and Grandpa was in his room, so I could finally do what I stayed home from school to do in the first place. I get up out of bed and close my door. As soundlessly as possible, I slid the doors of my closet open. Every once in a while I would fake a cough just for that added affect, trying to make it seem like I really had to stay home from school.

I reach up to the top shelf of my closet and grab a backpack. It's pretty heavy, but once it is on your back you can hardly notice it. I put it on my bed and begin to go through the many pouches and compartments in it. On the top of the pack is a small, very light weight, three season, two person tent that I saved up my money for a long time when I was younger. Back before my dad was diagnosed with a fatal brain tumor that practically ate away his consciousness until there was nothing left, our family would go on camping trips quite often. I always had to share the tent with Lilly, which I bet you know was just the most fun ever. I'm glad Carlos wasn't born yet, because mom and dad would probably make me share the tent with him, too.

I unstrap the tent and set it down on my bed. I unzip the smallest pouch in the very front and go through it. In it I find some Chapstick, nail clippers, a small container of matches and a bag of jolly ranchers (when in a sticky situation, hard candy can give a much needed moral boost). I move onto the next pouch, which is slightly bigger than the first. This pouch contains some sharpies, drawing supplies wrapped in plastic wrap, a survival manual that I have almost completely memorized, a lighter, signaling mirror, and a space blanket. Next pouch. Drawing pad, big, sturdy knife that I will hopefully never have to defend myself with, some working gloves, sunglasses, crank flashlight, duct tape, and some fishing wire with hooks, bait, and weights.

I put all the stuff back from all the pouches and move on to the last and biggest main pouch. The first thing that is in there is a folded up tarp. I set it on top of the tent and keep digging. Sunflower seeds and dried oranges. Before setting the snacks to the side, I take an orange out and eat it, realizing how hungry I am. Looking back into the backpack, I see two metal objects. I pull both out and see that one is my old sling shot with extra bands and the other is a small cooking pot with a foldable handle. At the very bottom is some metal twine with folded up instructions on how to set a snare.

I lean back against the head of the bed and think. My stomach growls. I stand up and fake a cough, then walk out of my room. I head to the bathroom where I brush my teeth then take the tooth brush back to my room, for the bag. I don't take the toothpaste. Takes up to much space. I leave my room again and head to the kitchen where I actually make a good breakfast of eggs, toast and bacon, which I devour. After washing my plate, I look in one of the cabinets to find a something to carry water in. After looking through a few places I find an aluminum water bottle and take it back to my room. I put it in the pack and find my whistle for emergencies. Awhile ago, Lilly called it my rape whistle which she had later been talked to by mom to find out how she knew what a 'rape whistle' was. Turns out she was just repeating what some boy at her school said. Feeling full and knowing that I had already done what I wanted to do today and it was only 9:30 in the morning, made me want to go back to sleep. Instead, I pulled out some clothes that I had prepared for in case of a disaster and tried them on to see if they fit. Thankfully, they did. My disaster clothes consisted of a white t-shirt and a relatively thick, oak wood brown, button up sweater with a hood and pull up face mask. The pants weren't the most stylish and are beige with many pockets. Once again, I felt relieved that they still fit and we're kind of loose on me. Nobody had enough money to buy new clothes right now.

Too lazy to take the clothes off, I kept them on and went to the living room. I turned on the tv. I didn't really watch it as I sat on the couch, it was just for noise. Then I remembered that I had left one of my drawing pads downstairs from the night before. I walk over to the door that leads down to the basement and start descending its steps. It is about halfway down when I hear a loud screeching sound. I wait and listen. After a few moments of silence I continue my descent. Then again, for a fleeting second, I hear the loud noise, then a shockwave sends me flying down the stairs.