Wow. It’s been awhile since I last was able to get internet access long enough to actually update this thing. Don’t worry, I’m still alive though, if anyone out there even cares.
Sometimes being alone for a long time can make you very cynical.
I’ve spent the last couple weeks just running. I decided to wander to my home town. It’s been awhile since the cyborgs first had invaded and I guess I still had some hope that someone I knew and cared about was still out there. This is the beginning of Rule 1. Don’t hope, don’t care. Nothing good will come of it.
Caring and hoping did not help me, unless you consider being surrounded by cyborgs as help.
I wandered into “downtown”, basically the square, the first night I got there. All the streets were empty. No cats, no dogs, no stray garbage sitting in the gutters. It was like a model town. Perfectly clean and intact and empty. Perfectly void of human life, and all things related to it. This should have been a sign that something was going to go terribly wrong, but I hoped and I cared and I was stupid.
So, I wandered into the main part of the town and it was just as empty as the outskirts had been. The window displays were gone. The signs were all taken down. I passed businesses and remembered. I remembered the time we played at the arcade and a rogue ski-ball hit me square in the face and broke my nose. I remembered my first date at “The Pizza Joint”, the owner’s weren’t very original but the pizza was good. I remembered all the walks, the laughs, the talks, and the tears. I remembered my life. And then I realized it was all gone, and coming home couldn’t bring any of it back. And for the first time since this whole thing happened, I cried. I cried for everything I had lost and everything that had been taken away from. I cried hard and loud, like a wounded dog.
I cried very loud, and it turns out the town wasn’t as empty as it first appeared. One minute I’m alone outside of an empty building, the next minute I hear the cyborgs coming. I could hear the metal creaking and scraping and I thought it was over. I had been found and soon what had happened to everyone I had ever loved, and even hated, was about to happen to me. I almost gave up. I hung my head in defeat.
And as I stared at the ground, I saw something. Something that I had forgotten about. In the sidewalk were two pairs of hand prints with initials to match. Above them was a heart. And I remembered when we put those hand prints there. We thought we were such rebels. I was afraid we were going to get caught and he couldn’t stop laughing at my fear. Seeing those prints made me remember him and why I had to keep on fighting.
So I ran. But they were catching up. So I started to cut through abandoned buildings, go up flights of stairs, go down ladders, until at last I couldn’t hear them anymore. Then I ran some more. I ran through my old neighborhood and I ran past my house and the old oak tree in the front yard. I kept running till I was in an abandoned corn field. That was where I wandered for days.
I just walked through the countryside. I stayed on the outskirts of abandoned towns, and I searched through the old gas stations searching for food. In one place I found a snickers. It was a good day that day. In others I found nothing and had to go back to the woods in search of berries and any other plant that wouldn’t kill me. That’s what I’ve been doing for the past couple of weeks. Just barely hanging in there. But, I guess that’s what I’ve been doing since all of this started.
I finally decided to sneak into a town enough that I could get to some internet. Thank goodness for this run down internet cafe. I fear I have been here for too long and that I might be being traced. Hopefully I won’t be away as long next time.
Not running from you,