literature

Breaking Curfew

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iPodluigi505's avatar
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Literature Text

I listened to the melodic crunching of my shoes on the pavement as I walked along the quiet street. It was a delicate rhythm, one that could easily be broken by the slight increase or decrease in pace. As such, I found myself unwittingly concentrating my effort into keeping at the same speed, out of my sub-conscious fear of losing the aforementioned rhythm. My eyes were darting about, looking about me for any signs of movement. The orange, evening sky above me was dotted with smudges of grey, as the clouds passed across the sky's face, which was as undisrupted as clear glass. I spotted an elderly man walking near me, who quickly looked me up and down, before remarking, "Beautiful evening, isn't it?"
I merely smiled and nodded, as I walked past him. I'll be honest; I'd paid little attention to my surroundings until he mentioned it. The air was cool and crisp, chilling the inside of my nose, and a low fog hung just above the ground. I heard the unwelcome sound of clanging as a dustbin fell over, but let down my guard once I realised it was just a stray cat. I stopped, and turned, but couldn't see the elderly man from a few moments ago.
"Bizarre." Was my simple, yet rather efficient response. And to be honest, I wasn't even that bothered about the old man's sudden disappearance. Curiosity was just one of the many things that would get a man killed around here. Sometimes, it was just better to avoid the human instinct to explore and inquire, and just let the ways of this place take their course. I stole a glance at my wrist, and saw the time on the face of my watch:

7:22

Damn, I only had thirty-eight minutes left to get across town, and back to my crummy little apartment before Curfew. I really shouldn't have taken that detour, even if it was more scenic than the slums. I guess that's the price I had to pay. And it was fair, even if I didn't think so at the time. I figured that the only way I'd get home on time was if I ran the whole way, without stopping. And even I knew that I couldn't pull of a feat like that. I'm hardly the fittest guy in the city. In fact, I'd probably breathed in so much polluted air that I'd be lucky if I didn't develop some kind of horrible lung disease. Either way, I knew that I wasn't gonna get home before curfew. That left me with two options:

1) Carry on as I was doing now, and hope that THEY wouldn't catch me.
Or;
2) Lay low somewhere overnight, and hope that THEY wouldn't catch me.

So no sweat then. I looked up, my eyes looking for somewhere close by, but where I would be able to hide 'safely', without being detected. I spotted several large bins propped against an alley wall. Each one would provide a somewhat decent hiding place for the night, but I'd be lucky if my clothes wouldn't stink by the morning. I looked down at my old, leather jacket and my worn jeans, and wondered whether it would be worth the risk. I sighed, nothing else I could do, I suppose. I dashed towards the bins, and threw up the lid of one, urging myself to climb in; when I turned my head and saw the unmistakable shape of a Wanderer. The tall, floating being, with a featureless face and bizarre, hooked finger-like claws…glowing, white skin…these things truly were bizarre. And from past experience, get too close to one and it'll literally be the end of you.

Unless you're marked.
I remembered the bizarre mark on my left palm. It was very much like a tattoo, inked into the skin and in the pattern of an eye. That is to say, a vertical eye, rather than a horizontal one. It was apparently a way for Wanderers to determine if you were prey or not. How it was decided who was prey for the Wanderers, and who wasn't was beyond me. All I knew was that occasionally, children would be rounded up and marked with same 'tattoo' on the palms of their hand, and others wouldn't. To be honest, I really didn't care how it was decided, nor how it worked. All that mattered to me was the fact I was 'protected' from the Wanderers. Still…I stared at the Wanderer near to me. It truly was a bizarre being.
Where did they come from? Where did they go during the day? Why did they only attack those who aren't marked?
I shook my head, clearing my head of the questions, and climbed into the bin, closing the lid once I was safely in. Now all I had to do was wait out the night, and hope that THEY didn't find me. I was breaking Curfew, and I knew what the repercussions would be if I was found.

No sweat then.
Just an idea. Depending on the reception this recieves, I may consider continuing on it further.

So PLEASE, comment your opinions. I'd be most grateful.
© 2012 - 2024 iPodluigi505
Comments6
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RabidSkitty's avatar
Yeah, pretty good.