Trust My Future
Stories similar to this that you might like too.
The next morning I woke up early.
I didn’t want to miss the bus, so I rushed downstairs to eat breakfast with my mom and dad, who were just getting ready for their day as well. We were all dressed and ready in no time flat. Mom had on a pair of jeans and an old white T-shirt that had seen better days, but she still looked good enough to give even me a run for my money.
Dad was wearing the same outfit from yesterday—a button-down shirt and slacks.
“You look great, Mom,” I said, smiling at her before giving my dad a quick kiss goodbye. “See you tonight!” he replied with a smile that made his eyes sparkle. He then walked out the door with a wave to us both.
“Love ya, hon!” Mom called after him.
Once he was gone, I gave my mother a hug and told her I’d call later to say good night.
“Okay,” she said, looking worried. “Be careful.”
“I will.”
After we finished our meals, we headed outside. The weather was perfect today—sunny but not hot—so it was only right that we spent our last day on vacation by going to the beach! My parents had already planned this trip when they thought that summer school would be canceled for the month of July due to the hurricane.
It was a nice perk of having them around; sometimes I forgot that they weren’t just there for emergencies. They were here for the whole summer! That meant that I got to see them more than once every five years…and spend some much-needed quality time with them.
My parents were excited about the trip too. As soon as I mentioned it, they started planning how many times we could stop at McDonald’s along the way for lunch (at least five). They also decided to pack some snacks, so we wouldn’t have to stop anywhere except for dinner tonight.
This was good because neither my mother nor I had eaten anything since breakfast and our stomachs were grumbling.
The drive was pretty long. Even though it was a holiday weekend, the highway wasn’t crowded. We stopped three times: once to pee, once at a gas station to refuel the car and again to take a break so we could stretch our legs. By the time we reached the end of the highway, we were starving.
The first place my parents wanted to go to was an ice cream shop that had been recommended by a friend. It turned out to be quite a popular place. The line to get inside snaked all through the parking lot. But my parents insisted. After all, the sign outside said that there would be free samples! How bad could it be?
We ended up waiting for thirty minutes in line. Once we finally got inside, we realized what a mistake it was to wait so long in the sun. The air conditioning felt amazing. While my parents waited patiently in line, I stood off to the side near the door while I watched people come and go.
Most of them were young kids. One family had four little girls and one older boy who kept running around yelling “Look! There’s a dinosaur!” At first, I thought it might be some sort of advertisement until I saw another man wearing an outfit similar to theirs.
I looked down and saw that he was walking with his own miniature Tyrannosaurus Rex. He held the animal like it was a puppy and was petting its head. The little girl holding the leash smiled brightly at the other customers and said hi.
That was when I noticed something strange about them. I mean, it was obvious that they were all dressed up and everything, but they seemed to be moving oddly. Like maybe they were puppets or something. Or even dolls. Then it hit me—they were robots!
It took me a minute to realize that the robots were being operated by humans. And not just any human; they were puppeteers. They stood in a circle at the back of the store. Every now and then, one would step forward and move an arm or leg to make the robot appear more realistic.
When a customer came near, he or she would pull the puppet away from the wall and wave it around like a toy. Everyone would laugh and applaud, and the puppetmaster would return it to the wall, where the puppetmaster beside him would pick it up and hand it to the person next in line.
After each person took his turn, he or she would pay for the puppet and leave. A small crowd formed behind us as they watched the show, and soon I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to know why the puppeteers did what they did.
I approached the puppetmaster and asked him if he’d mind answering some questions about himself. He didn’t respond right away. Instead, he looked at me curiously. Finally, he replied with a soft “Yes.”
“What do you want to know?”
I started by asking him where he was from, what it was like to work with robots instead of living creatures, and whether or not they ever messed up. But before I could finish, the owner of the puppetry company approached me and politely told me that they had a strict no-questions policy. So I thanked the man and walked off, disappointed.
My dad caught up to me and told me that we should probably buy our ice cream and get out of there. The line had shrunken significantly but still stretched back into the store. We made our way over to the window and ordered three scoops of chocolate chip ice cream in waffle cones. Then we sat down on a bench and munched away happily while we waited for our food to arrive.
As soon as we finished our dessert, we drove straight home. My dad was eager to tell my mom that the hurricane hadn’t done any damage to their house. I could tell from his expression that he was relieved.
By the time we arrived home, my stomach was growling. My dad went inside first, leaving my mom and me standing in the driveway. It was getting dark and cold, so we both put on coats and stepped inside. We had barely shut the door behind us when we heard someone yell from inside the house.
“Mom! Come quick! The TV is talking to me!”
We ran up the stairs to find my mother sitting in the chair in front of the television. She looked up at us and shook her head as if trying to convince herself that this really happened.
It was a news reporter giving a live report about what had recently been dubbed Hurricane Katrina. The storm had hit the gulf coast hard and caused massive devastation to New Orleans, Louisiana.
“Now,” the man continued, “the National Weather Service has issued a tornado warning for this area until 6:15 p.m. This means there are tornados in the immediate vicinity of your location. Are you aware of that?”
He paused for a moment, scanning the room, then turned his attention back to the camera and repeated his question.
“Do you have a basement?”
This time my mother’s eyes grew wide and she answered, “No.”
The man on the TV smiled. “Well, Mrs. Sorensen, please take cover immediately. If you don’t already have a safe place to shelter, please try to reach a building with an enclosed area where you can take cover. Otherwise, head toward a ditch or depression where you will have more protection against the wind and debris.”
My mother nodded slowly as if still trying to understand what was happening. I could see her hands trembling.
“In fact,” the man added, “if possible, you may wish to take shelter in any underground parking structure nearby. It’s much safer than waiting outside or heading into an open field. Do not attempt to drive your car anywhere in your vehicle. You will be blown out of it and killed if you do so.”
My mother stared blankly at the screen for a few moments longer, then turned to look at us and said, “What just happened? Why did the TV say those things?”
My father reached out and took her hand. “I think you should call your doctor, sweetie. This might not be a good time for a lot of excitement.”
The phone rang a little after eight o’clock that night, and when I picked it up to answer it, all I heard was static.
Then my mother screamed, “Get down!”
I dropped the receiver and crouched next to my mother, who was clutching a throw pillow close to her chest as she held onto the armrests of the recliner. I could see her legs shaking violently under the blanket.
“Mom, what’s going on?”
She pointed a shaky finger towards the television set. The channel was now showing a different news reporter standing in front of the ruins of some kind of destroyed building.
“There are two tornadoes in the city tonight. They’re moving eastward at approximately eighty miles per hour, and there’s another one headed towards downtown Los Angeles.”
“What? How can this be?”
The man on the television shrugged. “You’ve seen the destruction. There’s no point in hiding it. This is exactly what happens during a tornado. And unfortunately, there are many more to come tonight, so you should prepare yourself for the worst.”
My mother covered her mouth with one hand and began sobbing uncontrollably. I stood up and grabbed the remote off the table, turning up the volume even more as I tried to hear what the reporter was saying.
“And as far as I’m concerned,” he continued, “this isn’t just an ordinary storm anymore. It’s something much bigger. It’s a monster that must be stopped. I’m here at the Federal Emergency Management Agency center in Los Angeles, and I want to personally thank all of the volunteers working around the clock to get help to those in need.
But we need help from you, too. If you haven’t already evacuated, now would be an excellent time to do so.”
The sound cut out on the television as it returned to static again. After several moments of nothing but white noise, I flipped the channel to another station that showed a weather map. The tornado warning was still in effect for Los Angeles, and two others were currently active in San Diego and Sacramento.
I looked back at my mother and saw that her breathing had begun to slow down. Then I picked up the phone receiver and started dialing my father’s cell phone number, which I had memorized long ago. My father always kept his phone on him wherever he went.
My mother interrupted me before I got through the first ring.
“Is that Dad’s phone?”
I turned to look at her. Her eyes were glazed over, and she seemed unable to focus on anything.
“Yes. It’s Dad’s.”
“Why don’t you give it to me?”
I looked at my mother suspiciously as she pushed herself up off the chair. She wobbled unsteadily towards me and took the receiver out of my hands. Before I realized what was happening, she was sitting in the recliner once again and holding the telephone handset.
“Hello? Hello?”
The phone rang twice, then my father said, “Sara? Are you okay? Is everything—”
“It’s Mom!” I cried out. “She has the phone!”
Before he could respond, my mother hung up on him without saying goodbye.
Then she looked up at me and said, “Your father doesn’t care about us, Sara. He left us a long time ago.”
I stared back at her numbly, not knowing how to respond. Finally, I said, “I don’t believe you.”
A single tear fell out of my mother’s eye and landed on my cheek.
“He does, though,” she said. “And I’m tired of fighting it.”
***
The sun began rising behind the hills as the day dawned bright and beautiful. The sky was clear, the air crisp, and it felt like spring was finally coming. As I drove down the road to get breakfast, I couldn’t help but feel happy. This morning was going to be wonderful.
After breakfast, I made a stop by the library to pick up a few books that I’d ordered online. While I was waiting for them to be processed and scanned into their system, I wandered aimlessly through the stacks.
I didn’t really know where I was going or what I was looking for, but I was hoping to find something that could explain what had been going on in the last twenty-four hours. Or rather, why I’d experienced it firsthand.
As I reached for another book on the shelf, I heard a voice call my name from behind me.
“Hey! You’re Sara, right?”
I turned around and smiled as I saw a woman approaching me. She was a little older than I was, maybe in her early fifties or so, with straight gray hair that cascaded over her shoulders and down her back. When she reached me, she put her hand on my shoulder and gently pulled me into her embrace.
“I’m so glad to see you,” she said quietly, her arms wrapped tightly around me. “Thank God you’re all right.”
I was startled by her sudden appearance, but I quickly hugged her back, squeezing her tight. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
“Oh, yes. I’m fine,” she replied, pulling away from me. “Just very frightened, and so grateful that you’re all right too.”
We both looked over to where my books were being scanned onto a computer screen, then walked over together to the desk to retrieve them.
“Did you have any idea what was going on in California yesterday?” I asked.
The librarian nodded. “Yes, I did actually. I’ve lived here most of my life, and I know that we often get earthquakes during the springtime. I guess I wasn’t prepared for this kind of devastation.”
“You weren’t expecting a tornado?”
She looked up at me sadly. “Not until just recently, no.”
The books were done scanning, and I grabbed one of the copies.
“Well, thank you for your help,” I told the librarian. “If there’s anything else I can do for you, please let me know.”
“Of course. Thank you for helping me out, Sara. And good luck.”
Once outside, I headed towards my car, which was parked near the far corner of the lot. As I approached it, I noticed that someone was standing in front of the passenger side door. There was a man dressed in black leather pants and a matching vest, with a pair of dark sunglasses covering half of his face. His body was tense and stiff like he was ready to pounce at any moment.
I stopped a few feet away from him and tried to smile, trying to put him at ease. “Hello, stranger.”
But he didn’t return my smile. Instead, he took off his sunglasses. When I saw who he was, my legs began trembling under me. I wanted to run, to get out of there before this person harmed me.
“Don’t move,” he warned. “You don’t want to make me angry.”
Then he stepped closer to me, and I instinctively backed up against the driver’s seat. I reached for my keys on the console to unlock the doors. But he moved fast, grabbing my wrists before I could touch them. Then he pushed me up against the car and wrapped his hands around my throat.
“Let go of me!” I cried out, struggling against him as he forced my head back with one hand while holding the other tight around my neck. The muscles in my legs started to tighten up, preparing for an attempt to jump out of the car. But before I could do anything, I felt his grip loosen slightly as he released me.
“What are you doing?” I gasped as I rubbed my throat. “Why did you stop?”
He looked confused. “You’re not supposed to leave yet,” he answered. “Stay there.”
Before I could say another word, he grabbed my wrist again and pulled me into the passenger side of the car. My heart raced wildly as he closed the door behind us and locked it. He leaned close to my ear, speaking softly, his breath hot against my skin.
“Don’t try to open the door, Sara,” he warned. “Because if you do, I’ll kill you.”
He pulled away from me to stand next to the open window, leaning on the edge of the door. I was shaking uncontrollably, terrified about what was happening. Was this some kind of sick joke? How had he known my name? What would happen to me now?
A few minutes later, the man unlocked my door and helped me out of the car. Once I was on the ground, he pointed towards the entrance of the parking lot. “Now go inside, Sara,” he instructed. “And stay there.”
I slowly made my way through the crowd of people gathered around the windows to look out. It appeared as if the entire school was empty, except for several groups of children milling around, staring out anxiously at the sky.
One group seemed to be clustered around a teacher, talking excitedly among themselves. As I watched, they all turned to look at me as I passed by them. Their eyes seemed to be filled with fear and distrust, making me feel even more uneasy than before.
The man who’d abducted me was waiting for me when I finally found the library. I spotted him standing at the counter near the main entrance, chatting casually with a small group of people. They were all looking down at their feet, whispering amongst themselves.
A few kids were even laughing nervously at something one of them had said. But the man kept glancing over at me every so often, and I could tell that he was watching my progress.
As soon as I came within earshot of him, he glanced over and greeted me with a curt nod. “Welcome to your new home, Sara,” he said quietly. “This is where you will live now. You’ll eat dinner here. And you’ll sleep here as well.”
The group of adults around him laughed at his comment. Then he smiled at me. “I’m afraid I can’t offer much else, other than your basic necessities. If you need anything else, you’ll have to come to me.”
I stared back at him in confusion. “How long am I supposed to stay here?” I asked.
“Until we figure out what to do with you,” he replied. “That should be easy enough, right?”
I shook my head, feeling completely lost. I couldn’t believe this was actually happening. “Where are you taking me?”
He looked surprised by my question. “Why don’t you ask the children?” he suggested sarcastically. “They seem very interested in showing you off.”
“But how—why would they want me to see them?” I sputtered.
He shrugged. “Just go with them,” he advised me. “It’ll be easier than having you ask questions.”
“No! I don’t want to—”
He held up a warning hand. “Sara!” he barked. “Be quiet. Don’t make any sudden movements.”
He turned away from me and went back to the group of kids who’d been staring out the windows. I stood there dumbfounded, trying to process everything that was going on. What was happening to me? Who were these people? Where was I supposed to go?
All of my questions must have shown in my expression, because one of the adults noticed me standing there, watching them. She quickly walked up behind me and took my arm.
“Come on, Sara,” she told me as she pulled me past her towards the door leading outside. “You should get some fresh air and stretch your legs.”
She led me out into the parking lot, where I immediately began searching for a way to escape. But the exit door was locked, just like the front entrance had been. So I followed her across the parking lot, towards a small park area where a group of young boys was playing soccer. She stopped me before I could reach them, forcing me to walk in their direction.
We arrived at the edge of the field where the other group of children was waiting for us. The moment we were standing next to them, I saw something that made me gasp aloud. There was another girl there.
She was wearing the same uniform I had on and appeared to be in the exact same situation that I was. But there was no mistaking it: the girl was definitely dead. Her eyes were wide open and staring straight ahead, her mouth agape, revealing rows of dark red teeth. Her hair was matted and stringy, hanging down over her forehead in greasy clumps.
“What happened here?” I gasped at the boy who had been closest to me when we first arrived at the field.
He looked at me in alarm. “Nothing!” he shouted defensively. “This is nothing at all. Just another normal day.”
The adults nearby nodded their heads in agreement and began laughing and joking about their good fortune. But their laughter was interrupted when the man who’d rescued me suddenly approached. He pointed down at the dead girl lying at our feet and glared at the children around him.
“What did you do that for?” he demanded angrily. “Look at what you’ve done to her!”
There was complete silence for a few moments until everyone seemed to realize that someone was still alive among them. Then one of the older boys stepped forward, shaking his head apologetically.
“Sorry,” he said in a low voice. “We didn’t mean to scare her or anything.”
The man who’d kidnapped me stared at the little boy for a moment, then sighed heavily. “Well, don’t worry,” he told the child. “I won’t hurt her. It’s too late to save her now anyway.”
Then he turned to the rest of the children. “Now, I’m not sure why she ended up like that, but I think there was an accident,” he explained. “She fell off her bike earlier this afternoon and hit her head pretty hard. She died almost instantly. I guess the blood wasn’t able to clot quickly enough, so it ran out of her nose and ears like water, turning her face all black and blue.”
At least he knew what to do, I thought gratefully to myself. At least he wouldn’t murder the living thing that stood in front of him. But he still hadn’t answered my original question.
“So, what do I call you?” I asked him. “Do I just call you sir? Or are you something special?”
“Sir’s fine,” he told me. “Just remember to use the title with everyone in this group, even if they aren’t important. We’re a community here, and that means we must work together to help one another.”
He paused a moment, as though gathering his thoughts, and then added, “And please don’t speak unless spoken to,” he cautioned me again. “It’s rude, especially around the others in our group.”
“Okay,” I agreed. “I won’t say anything anymore.”
“Good,” he acknowledged me. “That makes me happy.”
He turned back to the kids around us, gesturing towards the soccer field with his chin. “Now, let’s go inside and see what we can find to eat,” he said enthusiastically. “It’s a little late to begin lessons right now, but we should at least have some dinner before we start.”
I followed along obediently, trying to take in all of the new information that was being thrown at me. But the only thing I could really focus on was how hungry I was. I’d been without food for nearly two days by then, and I was practically starving.
As I was heading inside the house, one of the other girls passed me on the way to the front door. When I tried to catch her attention, she ignored me completely.
I glanced behind me to make sure that no one else was paying attention, then whispered urgently to the dead body next to me. “Can you help me?” I asked her, hoping that I would hear a response from somewhere within her.
But nothing happened, and I felt a sudden chill run down my spine. What if none of them were alive? What if they were just bodies like the ones lying around the neighborhood outside?
As the group continued toward the front door, I watched the other girl leave with the rest of the group, ignoring me completely. And when the man who had stolen me walked over and closed the door behind him, I started to get very, very worried indeed.
The End