Last Day

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Science Fiction  |  House: Writer Coven
An old English project from seventh grade that I found hidden in my Google Drive. :)

Submitted: May 19, 2016

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Submitted: May 19, 2016

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I opened my eyes. I was laying on the hard wooden floor of my small apartment home, staring up at the darkness that loomed above my head. The only noise that I could hear was the silent snoring of my father and the pained coughing of my mother.

I glanced at the tiny square window that stood directly above me and looked to the sky. It was still dark outside, still night.

I closed my eyes again, wanting to fall back to sleep. A wish, I knew, that would never be granted. I sat up, leaning against the wall and planned to wait out the rest of night.

Every since my family and I had moved to America, everything had seemed to go south. My mother got sick with who knows what. My father, having to take care of my mother, was unable to work. We barely had enough money to pay rent for our cupboard of a room.

I scowled, punching the cold ground, making my father sit up. “Ryan? Whu wus ‘hat?” he asked groggily, rubbing his eyes with his fists.

“Nothing, dad. Go back to sleep.” I answered, rubbing my knuckles that had just hit the ground.

My dad turned to me, glancing out the window, “I could say the same to you.”

“Can’t sleep. Just go back to bed.”

My dad chuckled, laying back down on the ground, “What bed?”

Everything became quiet again as my father dozed back to sleep, making me a bit jealous that he could just plop his head down anywhere and rest.

I stood up, walking over to my bag which was lying in a heap in the corner. I opened it up and pulled out a semi-wrinkled dress that hadn’t been washed for about a week. I decided to change while I still had the dark and my parent’s slumber giving me a bit of privacy.

By the time I was ready to go to work - which was at the Triangle by the way - the first cracks of dawn were reaching out above the city, almost breaking through the cold fog that filled the air.

I looked one more time at my parents and then headed out the door into the cold morning air. I lived a long way from the Triangle, meaning I have to get up extra early just to make it to work on time.

I headed off down the street, clutching my coat tighter around me as the cold pierced through my clothes and skin and seemed to penetrate my bones.

I looked up to the sky, watching as the black was slowly turned to bright, baby blue mixed with soft pinks and light oranges.

I continued to walk, keeping my eyes locked on the sky as I tried to imagine myself walking through Ireland, my home town, instead of this crowded area of land. But when the road became more busy with people and even wagons, I had to rip my eyes from the sky and actually look where I was going.

In the distance, I could see the Triangle rising above all the other buildings, it’s nine stories reaching in the sky as if it wanted to touch it as much as I did.

I continued walking for almost half an hour before I finally came to the front doors of the building, just as a whole crowd of girls walked right in before me. I followed them inside, listening to the big, heavy doors close behind me as I stepped into the crowded room. The doors of the elevator shut and started taking a large group of girls up to the top floor. I sighed as I silently waited my turn for the lift.

By the time I got to the top floor, business as usual had started to take its course. Girls were hustling around, taking seats at their designated machines and what not.

I shuffled all the way to the back, ready for my week of work to be over.

The bell rang and the machines started up, the buzzing sound already giving me a headache.

I picked up a piece of fabric that was laying in front of me and started to work, keeping my foot on the pedal and listening to the small little gears in the machine work harder that I was. The day went on and on. Hour after hour after hour passed, my hands getting more sore the more I worked.

Nobody around me spoke a word. They were all too captivated in their work, staring intently at the large needle that threatened to pierce their skin if they got to close.

I took a deep breath, feeling the air around me getting muffled. With so many people around I wasn’t exactly surprised. I coughed, a burning feeling in my throat starting to sink in. I hoped to the dear Lord that I wasn’t getting as sick as my mother. I coughed again, but so did the young lady next to me, and the lady next her, and so on.

I looked up, hearing hundreds of girls that sounded like they were hacking up their throats. When I looked to the ceiling, I understood why.

The whole room was filled with smoke. Dark, black. Like a void of eternal darkness that threatened to take over your soul.

I jumped out of my chair, looking wildly around. I caught a glimpse of a young girl trying to tug a locked door open, and another picking up their machine and throwing it at the nearest window, making glass shatter and fall to the ground below.

I ran to the window, peering down and seeing flames coming out of the floor below us. I covered my face in surprise at the sudden heat that whipped past my body.

Screams from behind me rang out.

“Go!”

“The doors locked!”

“Pull it open!”

“I can’t!”

“To the window!”

“It’s to far of a jump!”

I looked around just in time to see a wave of girls coming at me. I tried to sidestep them, but I was too slow. All of a sudden, I was falling. The wind felt like it was trying to make me fly as it pushed against my back.

Before I knew it, I heard a dull and sickening thud. It didn’t feel like it was me who had made the noise, but who else?

I tried to get up but I couldn’t move. I was paralyzed to the spot where I lay. I could feel the world around me getting dark as my eyes slowly rolled into the back of my head.

The last sound I ever heard were the screams of the hundreds of girls above and the sound of distant fire trucks, coming to save them.

 


© Copyright 2017 Hetamax Wrynisimus. All rights reserved.

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