Thursday, 26 January 2012
09:57:47 PM (GMT)
This is my first story I had beta-read, my reader loved it, so I'm posting the first
part here. Comment if you want more.
I was nine when the war with the Others started. It was an unnecessary one, I
know for a fact; we’d been living with them so peacefully for so many years. No one
knows how it really started, just that they wanted to completely wipe us out. This,
diary, is my story…
“Kira! We’re going to be late!” I screamed to my sister as she tried to keep
up, tripping over her new dress. She was three years younger than me, only eight at
the time compared to my eleven. Nonetheless, when we entered the seemingly crystal
and pastel station, we were awestruck. It was all glass and metal, the banged-up
trains still looking like streamlined silver bullets. People were running to and fro,
yelling and buying food for their trips. It seemed like the war was nearly
nonexistent in the candy-coated amphitheater, with the exception of the men and women
in the tight black jumpsuits that were ready to go into battle.
It was then I found that the Way - the extremely old train that could take us to our
Grandmother’s home - would leave in an hour, and we had to be there forty-five
“Kira! We aren’t here to enjoy the view!” I yelled, and took her hand. She
started crying, so I picked the small girl up, let her bury her face in the back of
my head and mess up my neat red curls while I piggybacked her into the terminal. I
nearly ran into a Mutant - a regular person with a…different feature. He had wings,
it was quite beautiful.
“Sorry,” I muttered as I sped up to a sprint. Checking the giant holographic
clock, we had only five minutes. Luckily, we were at the terminal, so I grabbed our
tickets and got onto the rusted yet sleek train. Our cabin was refurbished, so
everything from the wine-colored seats to the spotless white carpet was brand new. It
seemed first class, but oh no - we’d glimpsed a first class cabin. They were
I let Kira sit by me so I could style her pale turquoise hair. It made her remind me
of the Japanese’s virtual singer -- Miku something.
Grabbing her hair gently, I noticed that it was so greasy it was soft. At least we
had a brush in my purse. I took it out, and as I started to run the plastic bristles
through her hair, the door swung open. It was a man who was seemingly in a military
jumpsuit, but it was in the dark blue of an officer.
“Hello, ladies.” He said, staring into my amber eyes so it made me feel
uncomfortable. “Where is your escort this evening.”
I averted his stare, then asked with a hostile tone, “What do you care?”
“I’m with the border patrols. May I see your papers?”
I glared at the man, who had then presented his badges. Officer Edmonton, from the
Southern Colonies. Finding the papers that proved we were legal citizens folded in my
pocket, I presented them, then he scrutinized them as my sister and I held our
breaths. What if he thought they were forged?
“Your sister, Kira, she’s a mutant?” he asked, looking at her. It was really
her eyes that gave it away; irises being a pure silver, no apparent blood vessels.
“Yes, sir.” I replied, “She was born without eyeballs. These are robotic.”
He gave our papers one last look, then walked away, slamming the door shut in front
of the conductor. I got up and reopened it, apologizing dearly before handing him our
“S’right,” he drawled with a dip of his head. “That officer’s been doin’
that for days now.” He promptly turned and left, his wiry blonde hair peeking out
of his blue cap. The door snapped shut, and my sister and I both felt a strong jolt
as the train started to move forward. After that, the movement became fluid and we
could get up and walk around without falling.
After about an hour, we were only a quarter of the way there.
“Are you hungry?” I asked, taking out my money card. She nodded, and stood up.
“Let’s go find the supper car.”
Ten minutes and three wrong cars later, we found the supper car. It was on the
decline, but it felt homey enough. Ordering a simple soup and sandwich meal, they
took around 10 credits from my budget of 1000.
“Grandmother said that credits used to be called dollars, when she was a little
girl.” said Kira, tilting her head to the side in contemplation. We were already
sat down, waiting for the server to bring us our meals.
“That’s nice,” I said, not really caring.
“You’re not listening, are you?”
I turned to her, then put a sweet smile on my face. “Of course I am, honey. Just,
you know that I get tired when we travel. Ooh, look! Our food’s here!”
A lady in a white dress and a ponytail brought us our food on china, took a bow,
“Thanks,” we said together before digging in. The soup was salty, the sandwich
had a big glob of ketchup on it, but altogether it was okay. Soon, we finished and
were ready to go back to our cabin, and I was looking forward to napping.
Last edited: 26 January 2012