This was no ordinary apocalyptic war. It wasn't much of a life either. Any child under the age of twenty was shipped off to Mexico to be saved. Not one child was left behind up
here in the states. Even the old people were shipped off to live down there. They weren't heard from for five years. Not by mail or the internet. In fact, any and all computers, ipods, ipads,
phones as well, were destroyed when the Chinese government decided to take over the White House. It was the scariest time for everyone, and thousands upon thousands were killed in the name of
I should have been one of them, but that morning when I was suppose to be in church, I had been stashing all the cream of wheat I could in a backpack as well as clean underwear. It didn't bother me if the rest of my clothes were dirty, but the thought of my crotch being gross wasn't going to be crossing my mind at any point in time.
And when our parents were being slaughtered, five miles away from our homes, my neighbor Alex and I were sitting in his basement, hiding from the Chinese doing the neighborhood sweep. An aweful experiment, that made anyone and any animal tense up if you were out on the streets. Every two hours, a group of soliders on foot checked every yard and street to make sure everyone was either at work, in the house or at the grocery store. And if no one was where they were suppose to be, they were shot on the spot. Body dragged into a truck, which got dumped at the edge of town near the landfields.
Alex never called me by my real name, after the first day of this war happened. Since I had dyed my hair burgundy, his name for me was Red. I gave him the name Alex, because if anyone knew that he was the pastor's son, he would have his throat slit right in front of me. And while he breathed his last breath, the last thing he would see is terror on my face while being raped. It might sound very harsh, or overrated, but that's what we saw happen to his cousin Hannah, after her boyfriend was killed. He too was a pastor's son but of another church.
I would like to ask him if he still had faith in God after everything he's been through, but it was a personal question and he was a very private person. I on the other hand, would like to think that God is up there, he's just not listening anymore and watching us get slaughtered like pigs for every sin that we made. Even though most of it was because of the governments fault.
I would also like to know why he hadn't been saved. He doesn't seem to be the sinner type. Although from the age of seventeen until last year, he had been gone to his grandparents. Just up and left without saying goodbye. So something could have happened, just don't know what it was.
My greatest sin, according to the Ten Commandments, would be breaking number five. Honor thy mother and father. On top of that, I've stolen, under the influence of a bad boyfriend and have broken every other one, except murder. The only thing I would murder is an animal for food. And I know that God would forgive me for that one. But if it came to someone trying to kill me, it's either them or me. That, I know I would have to compromise with God on that one. It's not really intention or premeditated, so I don't think I would have a place in hell for that.
Really bad to say this, but the one sin I've done over and over again and cannot stop, no matter how hard I try, pray, would be having sex before marriage. God probably wants to slap me for it, but for woman's sake, it's really fun if you know what you are doing. Especially with someone you care about and you are cautious with everything.
It had been two months since our parents were killed. Alex decided to move me into his house, helping me moved my food stash into his house, whenever we could get away with it. I would box everything, place it into the back of my mom's car, under the floor board where the spare tire would sit, drive it down the street, two houses away, across from me and drive it into his garage. He would close the door, and then help me unpack everything and place it downstairs in the basement turned fall out shelter.
We did this for a few days until everything was out. Even all of my clothes, pots and pans. All of the dishes were placed in piles near the doors in case we had to use them as weapons. Sounds rediculous, but if you asked me, I wouldn't want a fork flying pass my eye.
Once we had a close call with the street sweep. I had just came back from running over to my house to grab my dad's Smith and Wesson, barely stepped foot in through the front door when a few soldiers saw me. They were about to walk up when Alex popped out of nowhere and kissed me on the lips, then asked me as loud as he could how my trip was to the grocery store. Apparently it was a good cover, because the men had backed away and kept going down the street.
Since then, nothing had been the same between us. He couldn't even look me in the eye and no longer eat with me. If I wasn't mistaken, I may have made him turn gay. Even now, as he sits in front of me, playing with his dark brown curly hair, he just stares at his book, pretending to read, even though I know he's thinking of what a preacher's son shouldn't be.
Unfortuneatly for me, his distraction dissapated when we heard a truck pull up into our drive way and a door slam shut. The shadowy figure that went across our curtain made us slink out of our chairs grabbing our guns and pointing them at the front door. We watched the door handle turn, then the door slowly opening. Blue eyes peered in at us, giving us a relief that it wasn't any Asians, but a white person that could potentially be friendly.
Noticing our guns, he held up his hands and stopped in his tracks. His voice was smooth, but not of this region. Hell not even of this country. English I believe. Austrailian maybe. He had sandy blonde hair and was much taller then me. Possibly a few inches taller then Alex.
"I'm looking for Antione Radford."
"Whose sent you?" Alex tried to not have a shakey voice. He too had never commited murder and I don't think he was ready to start.
"His father met me a few months ago in the grocery store. We aren't originally from here and we cannot get back home. He said that his son would give us shelter and food. I would have driven us here sooner, but with our parents dead and the street sweaps, it took us longer then anticipated."
"How many are there?"
"Just me and my brother, Jay, and our cousins, Mia and Arcie. The girls are terrified. They watched their mother get raped and murdered in front of them. We have no food, but we have a lot of ammo and a few guns. We just robbed a gun shop and Bi-Mart within the last two days, but there was only ammo left and most of them are for guns we don't have."
"We'll let you stay, but I swear if any of you are spies, we will shoot you with no hesitaton."
"Fair enough." Alex jumped when the alarm on his watch went off. "Fuck. Fifteen minutes before the sweep. Forget the ammo for now. They don't search the cars. Get everyone inside and down onto the floor."
The man stuck his head back out and waved at everyone to hurry up and once inside, everyone sat on the floor in the living room, not saying a word. Sweeps could go from five minutes to thirty, depending on how many people lived on the street. And since we were down to ten people, we hoped for only a five minute walk through.
Both girls were huddled together, the boys on either side of them and I sat near Alex, hoping that none of the soldiers decide to enter the house. It would be one epic battle if they did so. New people meant more chance at survival.
Alex stared at his watch and I managed to glance at it. Fifteen minutes certainly passed quickly and we could hear those soldiers walking and singing their songs. If only we had one, just one person that knew what those songs were about.
And then they became silent, followed by one man yelling one word and then a shot rang out. Covering their mouths, both girls started to cry, holding back their sobs. I felt sorry for them. They were too young for this, but too old to go to Mexico.
Alex crawled over to the peep hole we created in the front wall, under the window. It was better then to move the curtain and have the possibility of being shot. I wasn't sure of what he saw, but knew it wasn't good. He sat there for a good five minutes before pulling back, quietly announcing that they were gone. He then sat down and turned to face us.
"I'm Antione Radford. But please, call me Alex." He paused as he sighed. "And this is my neighbor, Ionna, but I call her Red."
Speaking for his family, the same man looked at Alex, then at me. "I'm Max. This is my brother Jay and our cousins Mia and the one with the ponytail is Arcie."
I grabbed our box of tissues and tossed it at the girls. "I'm sorry you guys had to deal with that, but we've been getting at least one person killed every two weeks. It's like people forget the rules."
"It's like this will never end. Like a bad dream." Arcie sniffled and wiped her eyes.
"Like a dream in a dream in a dream." Mia wiped her nose.
I noticed that they had American acents and they were beautiful. Long blonde hair, big pink lips and bright blue eyes. I wondered if their parents were models. At least their mother. And the boys, gorgeous hunks. Both tall, blue eyed, sandy blonde hair, buff but not scary John Cena buff. Enough to prove they were capable of carrying one hundred pound boxes and not squish you if you hugged them.
The skies were darkening and everyone began to get hungry. We showed them the shower upstairs, then took them down into the basement where we were all going to sleep. Alex warned them to go into pairs when leaving the basement and to always carry a gun.
Max and Jay slept on cots while the girls slept on the bed I pulled out of the couch. Max stayed on the bed next to the girls until they fell asleep, the joined Alex upstairs to unpack the ammo. Jay went around placing guns in different places, then moved the girls's shoes under the bed.
I laid down on the futon mattress that was on the floor in the corner, waiting for the boys to return, but never saw them because I had fallen asleep while waiting for them. I knew that once I would wake, it was going to be the longest journey any of us had been on.
© Copyright 2016 Lily Jaymes. All rights reserved.
Poem / Poetry
Poem / Poetry
Poem / Poetry
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