Magazine, website & books written by teens since 1989

Sruvival

I was born in 1995, or so they say. My name was Darren Alexander Mattox. Up until I neared the age of fifteen, my life was sound. Straight A student, physically fit, and popular enough. But the day my father was killed was the day my world fell apart.

I thought about the world and what it had become. I thought about what I was taught in the history books, if they were right…how did the world end up like this? My history books in school said that America launched the missiles for good. Russia and the other communist nations were threatening to join forces in order to conquer the world. Whatever reason they launched the missiles for, the European countries had their reasons too. When the images of nuclear missiles being launched in their direction reached them, via satellite, they retaliated, sending hundreds of nukes into the air. All aimed for America. But the country was ready, in preparation for an all an all out nuclear war; America had built hundreds of bomb shelters, all of which were able to withstand the force of at least ten missiles. Reservation to a shelter was very expensive, but my family, valuing physical safety over financial safety, had spent almost every dollar they had to reserve a spot in the shelter. My mother died when I was two from complications with battling diabetes, so I didn’t know her. As long as I could remember it was just my dad and I. We had always relied on one another. I was shocked, no, terrified when I had heard the news. A Rogue, someone who was in the Psyche Ward for threatening words, actions, etc, murdered my father. He had somehow escaped, under the precise watch of the guards it seemed impossible. Was it? There were some on the guard team that didn’t particularly like my father, for my father was very intelligent but wouldn’t find a way to cheat the system so the guards could get off of watch duty a few minutes early. But to kill him for it? It didn’t seem right; it wasn’t right. My father was a kind and generous man; he had never done anyone any harm. That’s what made it so hard to believe. But, as was the case when there was a murder, the President would take the place of the judge. So, as I walked into the courtroom, hoping for the Rogue to die a slow, painful death, I found a seat, and watched the trial begin. I had taken up my studies in outside technology, in the hope that one day we would be able to return to the world given to us by God, I could hardly understand a word they were saying, but by observing their body language I was able to determine that the Rogue was going to get away free. I was infuriated, outraged that the President was going to let this-this thing go free! I looked at the President, he looked all high and mighty on his judges throne, and mouthed the word “Why?”. He caught a glimpse of me and looked at me, no, he stared at me, and I felt as though he was burning a hole straight through my heart with those beady eyes. I left, unable to bear the cruel decree. As I walked the halls of the shelter, it felt like the weight of the world was about to rip my shoulders from their sockets. Now, some may call me dumb, some may call me a genius, others a hero. But with nothing left for me in the shelter I decided to escape.
If there‘d been a burial, I would’ve attended. But in the shelter the deceased were cremated, and I had no desire to watch my father burn. So I sat on my bed and thought to myself “I know there’s an alarm on the door but if I can get outside before they catch me, it’ll all be okay.” It would have to be during the day, because the guards were much tighter on their watch at night. Also, the commotion from the bustling hallways would muffle the sound from the alarm just enough to buy me a bit of extra time. Since it was nearing the afternoon I decided to get a nights rest before attempting my escape. I had a wonderful dream. I was in the outside world. There were grassy green meadows and forests full of trees; just as there were in my textbooks. I saw many rabbits and deer, and myself, sitting in the cool shade of a wide oak. Oh how I longed for the outside world! I awoke with a start. William had shaken me awake. (I’m sorry I haven’t told you, but I have one best friend. His name is William; we’ve been best friends since the day I was born. I say the day I was born because he’s eight months older than me) “Get up you lazy bum!” he shouted teasingly. I shoved him away “I’m up ya dang hillbilly” He of course was not a hillbilly, because there were no hills in the shelter, but we had read in our history book about people in the hill country of the state of Kentucky who were considered hillbillies. We thought it was a pretty funny name. “Well come on and let’s get to class. I wanna make this day not suck so bad” he said. “Bro, c’mon, it’s school. It’ll never be fun. Anyways, I’ve been thinking.” “Oh yeah? ‘Bout what?” “Well, with my parents dead, and nothing left for me here. I want to leave the shelter.” The bomb had been dropped. William stared at me with his jaw hung open “You aren’t serious right? I mean if they catch you they’ll kill you.” “Yeah, I know. I’m prepared to take that risk though. What else can this world take from me though?” “Uhh, hello! Best friend right here! Besides, do you even know where the shelter door is?” “Yep.” I stated with a broad grin on my face. “I asked the nicest guard I could find-“ “Guard Tilley” William interrupted. He knew that she had a huge crush on my dad, and regarded me as family in hopes of getting to my dad. “Thanks for the interruption.” I said blandly. “Sorry” he added. “Anyway, I asked her for a tour around the guard post and she politely accepted. I think she felt sorry for me, but who knows. Well, when we were in the post I slipped a peek at the map. I even found out where the armory is”. I’ve never been in the armory, but I’ve walked past and glanced inside while running errands for Mrs. Blackwell my science professor. Citizens like me aren’t allowed to have weapons. Guards and high-ranking officials are the only people who are allowed to handle weapons. William piped up “Man, there’s another one. If you get caught with a gun on you, you’ll die”. He was concerned for my safety, but I can’t blame him. If he were going to escape I’d be doing everything I could to save his live. He shook his head. He knew my mood had changed. I asked, “Why don’t you come with me? You’ve always wanted to see the outside world, and so have I. We’d make a good team up there. If there’s anyone left you can talk us out of trouble, or get us out of sticky situations. As for me, if there’s anything left, I’ll make use of it in anyway possible.” He looked like he had just been shot. “I-I know you want to do this because you’re parents died; but I’ve still got parents. Well, my mom. But her and me are just like you and you’re dad were. You’re right though, we would make a good team.” I expected him to say this. Which is good, I didn’t want him to leave his mom, but I had to ask him so he could come if he absolutely had to. Thank God he didn’t. “It’s cool. I know you have to take care of your mom and all. I’m expecting to do great things out there though. It’s a shame you won’t be with me.” “I wish I could but, I can’t. I’m sorry.” He looked at me solemnly. I assured him “It’s okay. I can handle myself. Besides, you have to go, I have to go. Let’s move hillbilly!” I said to him one more time. We walked out of the room. He turned back and waved at me one more time, and I waved back, knowing this would be the last time I would ever see my best friend. I made my way down the hall to the stairwell with determination you only get when you’re enraged by one single thought. When you have your mind set on one thing. You’ll know when you’ve felt that type of determination. I’ve only felt it once before in my life. On a Friday night football game. The score was 7-7 in the fourth quarter with 40 seconds left to go. The coaches had me playing linebacker for the game. On the previous play there had been a pile-up in which hundreds of nasty words were said. But one in particular had made me furious. A player on the other team had made fun of my mother. I’m very sensitive when it comes to her. The other person saying something bad about my mother caused the only fights I’ve ever been in. When everyone had emerged from the pile I memorized his number. 34. His name was Jake Magnice. He was the bully for our age group, although he had never given me any problems. Until now. What he had said riled me up so much, that on the next play, he was handed the ball and I took every single bit of anger out on him. He fumbled the ball and our safety ran it back for a touchdown. I could hardly care, I wanted him to know that no one insults my mother, and he learned it. He was sent to the medical room with a broken collarbone and a major concussion. The day he was able to return to school, the first words he spoke were an apology to me. Other than that time, I had never felt this determination. The armory was in the seventeenth level of the shelter, the door was in the lowest level; level twenty. That meant that I had to make it three levels down in the shelter before I was caught.

More soon.





Join the Discussion

This article has 1 comment. Post your own now!

Kilikilakia2012 said...
Jul. 23, 2010 at 11:50 pm
I love this! im already hooked! lol :)
 
bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback