literature

Emperian 1 Old

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    I sit listening to a boring lecture in class. Some student who sits in the back of the class points out the window to a black war-craft helicopter. It flew over the school.
    "May I go across the hall to the restroom?" I ask. I got up as the teacher nodded. In front of the fountain just five feet away from the class i drink a little water. When I get back to the door, it is blown off its hinges. The door forces me to fly across the hallway. The roof starts to collapse but it doesn't matter, my hearing goes out and everything fades. The last thing I remember is the door of the class room laying heavily on me.
    "Hur-...-ook for sur-..." I heard a man say. My hearing was going in and out. I began to feel the door being lifted, I can barely open my eyes let alone move. Its a boy no older than me, all i could make out was his blonde hair. Instead of forcing my eyes to open I let them close.
"OI!" the boy spoke, my hearing seemed to return. "A survivor!" I feel him pick me up as a sharp pain erupts from my everywhere. A muffled cry of pain escapes my lips.
    A while later I open my eyes, its easier to now. I see I'm in the back of a work van, on a stretcher. The boy from earlier looks to me, saying something, but my hearing is gone again. I can only guess that the van is in motion because it bounces. I must of given a face of agony because the boy loosens the strap over my chest holding me to the stretcher.
    "......How do you feel?" he asks me, my hearing giving me a chance to listen.
    "..gjkashrseuighd.." comes up and out of my mouth through gritted teeth, pain stops me from doing much of anything right now.
"Don't worry, your go-..." as he spoke my hearing went out yet again. He touched my shin and sighed from what I could tell, except I couldn't feel anything. I then tried to move my own arm, another sharp pain erupts in me, except in my left arm. I stopped trying to move or hear, pointless at this point. I closed my eyes and fell back asleep.
    Funny though, that tattoo on the boys neck around his left shoulder is the same symbol of the destroyers, the people who I'm suppose to hate.
   
I wake up again, but the scenery is different, its a room in the back of a motor home, one bed and a chair. The boy sleeps in the chair. He wears a jacket with a turtle collar, zipped all the way up, it appeared to be dark blue but that could just be the dark lighting. Not a single lap or light is on, and the window is covered by thick curtains. I wish I could pull the curtains back but I dare not move, so I sigh instead. My ribs burn from the exhale. My ribs, sides and everywhere feel like fire. Few minutes pass and the boy wakes up his blue eyes glowed in the dark.
    "Your up!" he said quietly but cheerfully. His voice was muffled in my ears, like I am underwater.
    "you...too..." I tried, but pain kept me from going much more than that. It pains me even to breath.
    "Don't strain yourself, please, your lucky to be alive," he spoke gently to me. Tears formed in my eyes, yeah I was lucky, lucky to have this pain and misery. He puts his head down, looking to the ground.  
    "Ya' know," he starts to tell me, "I go around looking for survivors on the bombings. People like you, like me.." his voice trails off, I can't tell if its because of my hearing or what. I want to ask him why, but its pointless in my shape. He looks to me then, examining me, " Your ribs are cracked, you have a concussion, and your right leg and left arm have been broken." he was giving me a full diagnostics of my injuries, "luckily the door saved your life."
    "Why," I manage.
    He looked at me with empty eyes, "Because a building-" he stops abruptly, "because that's our job. To find and enlist the survivors."
    I scowled, not because of these words he speaks but because it finally kicks in, I have no where left back home. Saved by the same kid who helped with the attack.
    "You might hate me now, and I understand that," He stood, going to the window. He cracked it to see if we were close to the unknown destination, its still dark out.
    "Two years ago, Two and a Half on the 27 of spring exactly, I was bombed, same as you." he turned to face me again, "I'm actually very happy that I found someone like me."
    I stare at him. He's smiling but its dark so its hard to tell. "What?" I croak confused.
    "Someone like me! Someone who survived the damned bombings. At least a Emperian Race." Well that would explain the blonde hair.....
    Emperian Race are blonde or silver haired, eye color was mostly blue, if you were a full blood that is. I remember my mother commented to me every time our eyes met how special I was.

    MY PARENTS!!
    "Your parents already think your dead. No one comes back alive when those bombings happens, at least not to their home."
Story of Explosions and war, and a confused girl.

Chapter 2 :   tsu-cat.deviantart.com/art/Emp…
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