The Beginning of our End

Chapter 2

Jack

I was standing on a peak at the point of Mt. Tiger. I was here looking at the view. The city was clearly seen, every corner and alley. The people were specks of dust, moving, The only reason I was here was because I had asked for help. The cold wind blew across my face, hitting my hair, as I remembered.

I was receiving calls all leading to one fact, a door. Not an actual door but a passage to somewhere. Then, suddenly, the police came and took me to jail explaining that I, a fifteen year old had murdered someone. I wasn't a murderer. I tried to explain, but they didn't care. After some tests, they knew it was me and threw me in Juvenile. I waited in my cell for what seemed like a month, surrounded by children who had actually committed a crime. My cell was dreadfully grey. There was a bed, a toilet and a desk. The days went and then the police came for me.

One officer opened the door while the other spoke the most joyous words that I had ever heard. "You've been bailed" said the officer in a bored tone. "What" I exclaimed. I couldn't think of anyone who would bail me out. I lived and ran an orphanage for boys and girls with help from others. They would have certainly tried to bail me out but I was aware how short the orphanage was on cash at all times. As I walked out, I felt the summer heat over my face. Here on Terra, my home planet, summer's warm, just like it was on Earth. We are still humans though but we arrived here on Htera in 2514 from Earth. The journey took 20 years and we had taken lot of food, enough to last all of us including the animals. As I continued to walk, I saw a man with a gun to my face.

He slowly whispered, "Follow me." I was speechless only because no one had noticed. "I bailed you out," he said, "and now I need you to do something for me." "What," I choked. "You will receive information in a piece of paper," he warned. "It will tell where your help is required. You must do as the instructions say and note everything in the Journal. Find the door." Just as the phone calls were explaining. With that thought, I was going to ask him about the calls but he left me outside of the orphanage.

I walked in after thinking about it for a while. The room was dark since everyone was sleeping. I went to the kitchen, opened the fridge and got some food. I sat on the couch with my food and turned on the TV and watched the documentary on the death of soldiers at Mt. Tiger. The grotto was the only hiding spot but some soldiers died before getting to grotto. It was said that while hiding at grotto that no one can see you but you can see them. I fell asleep before hearing the rest.

I awoke the next with few young boys from the Orphanage pounding on me and demanding breakfast. I did this as quickly as a fox and went outside to get the mail. In a small red envelope I found what they wanted me to find, the letter read; in bold black letters

"Inside there is a ticket to Mt. Tiger. You will bore the plane on June 5th at 3:30 pm. From there you will find the mountain cave, in the cave there will be darkness, continue to walk no matter what happens. If you don't remember, note all observations in the Journal. Lastly find the passage and know that we are not evil. When you arrive back, call us at 555-976-1423. Just remember, we are never evil and will never be."

I stared at the letter for a moment and ran to pack my bags. I packed warm clothes, sweaters and jackets. I closed the suitcase and walked out the door leaving a message for the kids. "I'll be gone for a while," I told them, "tell Jill." With that, I ran to the airport and boarded my flight.

The flight was long and boring but the sight was beautiful. I looked down from the window and saw clouds of white floating like feathers. They had no decisions to make or nothing to worry about. I promised myself that I would take care of those kids but look at me now. I'm on a freaking plane to who knows where. I looked over at the bag and found the journal. I looked through the Journal. It was blank. There was everything perfectly laid out. At the top of each page, was the date or what I thought the date was. There were many lines, large enough to write in. At the bottom was a place to put my signature. I'm guessing the "good guys" don't trust. That made me feel a whole lot better.

After I reach the mountain, I realize that the Journal had money in it. I look around and see a store. I walk in and buy what I think is needed. I pick up a carabiner with a rope attached to it. I see an oxygen tank and a bag. I buy the equipment and start to climb the mountain. It is a beautiful scenery as I climb. All the people below me are dusts bits floating. The mountain had snowy peaks as white as the clouds but as cold as as an evil man's heart. The wind whooshed away at a speed incomprehensible to me. I sit down on a rock and pick up the Journal. I raise as it is made of stone and slowly write: "I can't find the grotto." I realize my mistake and write cave over it. Instead the word grave hisses back.

I remembered the documentary about the death of the soldiers and some had been buried here. I run in all the directions and try to look for a grave. I see the gray tombstone and write what I did. Behind it was a cave, covered by a log and throw it as it is weightless. With a gasp, I walked into darkness.

I continued to walk in the dark. Suddenly. I remembered the flashlight. As I turned it on, the world around me illuminates. The walls seeped with oily, black water. I see no source of life around me. In front of me was the most vibrant passage I had ever encountered. I noted it down and jumped in ... to a world needing help.