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I’m not human I am a Cardion, something made a long time ago to protect people. When people had just come into being, things like disease and predators killed them easy. The creator, also known as god, told the angels to send them help.
The angels paired up with each other and created Cardion’s who were strong, fast, smart, and could only die if they were killed by each other. But something went wrong when people began to over populate. Cardion’s started a war against each other, Murdering each other.
They fought and some died but me they didn’t even bother. You see I was the only one who’s father and mother (I guess you could call them that) actually loved each other. However my father Appoloin, the angel of destruction, had to watch the pit’s of hell to make sure Satan would never rise. My mother Armaita, being the angle of truth, understood.
Today the war continues to wage on in the modern world as some Cardion’s decide to kill people who sin. Being the daughter of the angel of destruction people around me get hurt a lot. My name is Carter.
I was running, I could feel the pain in my chest as my heart went faster than my legs. The rain and hail felt like needles just before they break the skin.
I was crying so hard I didn’t know what to do or wear I was going, I was just running. If I hadn’t met them, if I hadn’t been on that bus, people would be alive right know. I couldn’t protect anyone; I can feel myself slipping into unconsciousness.
The last time I see before my eyes shut is a man. He’s yelling “I found her!” I can barely here him over the rain. Then I pass out and the memories work their way into my dream. I was back on the bus in San Francisco, my foster parents were smiling. Then the brakes went out. We hit a truck carrying lumber. The ceiling crashed down, people were screaming I heard my foster mom let out a cry of pain as the ceiling crushed her. And me, I’m fine, untouched really. Everyone else is dead. I jump out off the busted window and run.
Then I reopen my grey eyes. I’m in a hospital bed, there’s a middle aged man with white hair and a dark brown rain coat on, and I know its Henry. He was my social worker. I lean forward as my straight long black hair falls in to it normal place.
I smile because I know he has probably been waiting here for hours.
Than through the open door I see a girl with long blonde laired hair with blue streaks crying in a hospital chair. She couldn’t be older than sixteen. There’s a boy her age with short light brown hair with his arm around her trying to comfort her, but you can tell he’s no happier than she is. Then they got up and walked to the door but she falls down, doctor’s rush to her. They make shore she’s alright, and the boy helps her out the door.
Then Henry wakes up and tells me I will be staying with him for awhile. We leave the hospital, and go to the house where my stuff was. I hadn’t unpacked yet. Henry knows I’m a Cardion, I told him after he found me after I fell off a cliff and was still walking around like nothing had happened. He lived in New York in a large house (five bedrooms). I’d been there once after an accident.
We boarded the plane that Henry had bought the tickets to, (since we were half way across the country) but everything feels numb.
On the plane Henry tells me I’ll be attending New York City Prep, that I would be staying with him for a few months, that I would love it there, and then he ask me if I’m okay. For some reason that’s the hardest question ever and I want him to see, someone to see that I’ve never been okay. That being a Cardion means seeing the beginning to the end, and that you have to watch people die. “I’m fine” I reply with a small smile. “Good” says Henry not even aware of the lie I am telling him. Hours pass, the plane stops, and we get off.
Almost immediately I feel weird like I’m being watched. I glance around the room but I don’t see anyone I recognize. “Carter, something wrong?” Henry says snapping me back to life. “No, I’m good” But there was defiantly someone watching me; I could feel their eyes digging into the back of my head.
“Well come one then the cars here” as Henry grabs our two bags.
“Coming” I say walking over to the car, but I just know I’m being watched. As we get into the car I look around to see if were being followed, and were not. I relax for I minute but not completely. I was being watched, I am certain of it, but it was probably just some creeper.