The Art of Dying

The world was moving as if it was a movie on fast forward, but I was still the neutral speed. I soon realized it wasn't the world that was on fast forward; it was my heart beating as if it were a drum roll. I looked back and saw the thing I had fought so hard to get away from. The creature was gaining on me now ,and I did not know what to do so I looked around to see where I was. Town was maybe a mile ahead of me, but the river was closer. I was supposed to be in town an hour ago. In the distance, I could see him; Nathan stood as though he could take on anything he was threatened with. I missed so much in the time I was gone; he had gotten his hair cut, and was now wearing a new jacket and jeans.        This isn't the beginning of my story, but it isn’t even close to the end.  On October 30, 2083 I was born into this world by my mother Nyla Matthew-Eden. She died giving birth to me or at least that’s what my dad tells me. George Eden, my father, has been raising me since I was two. I was put in the system after I was born ,because my dad needed time to mend from my mother’s death. I know he doesn't like talking about it so I never bring it up. It's August 18, 2103. I am turning twenty this year ,but I have a bad feeling; like something is going to happen. My name is Maya Eden and I am terrified of my future.          Nathan is my best friend and has been since I was nine. We do everything together, and by everything I mean everything from my first time getting in trouble, my first fight ,first time getting drunk, and now my first tattoo. We planned on getting the same one on the sides of our hands to symbolize our friendship. We picked yin and yang because of how perfectly we fit together.        “Why are you so nervous?” Nathan asks, snickering.           “What? Like you aren't nervous?” I say aggravated.          He thinks everything is a joke when it comes to me freaking out. I don't find it funny ,but for some reason he does. It was time for us to split up and go to our seats to get the tattoos. Nathan grabs my hand and squeezes it gently while saying “You're fine,”. Then he goes and sits down. We both get up around the same time and look at the tattoos.            I walk closer to the mirror and focus on the tattoo. “Mine looks like it's at an angle,” I say timidly. Nathan grabs my wrist and looks at it.         “It's so they look locked if we are holding hands,” he says, laughing.         “Why does he find that funny?” I wonder in my head and after thinking about it “oh… they think we are…Together.” I begin laughing and walk outside.           Ahhhh!  I jump when I hear the scream. Nathan grabs hold of my hand noticing me jump.          “What was that?” Nathan says looking around. I let go of his hand and walk into the street to get a better view, but as I do someone tries to attack me. All I remember is Nathan pulling the person off me and running for a while. Nathan woke me up from my nap which felt like it was only five minutes long ,but in reality it was two hours.        “How are you feeling?” he says, helping me stand up.       “ Fine,” I responded while rubbing my eyes.        “We should keep going,”         “Can't we go back to the town and see what's going on?”         “Yeah right and risk getting attacked again?”        “Well I will go alone then,” I say turning around.   Nathan grabs a hold of my arm and yanks it so I will face him       “You can, but I won't come after you so decide if your willing to go alone,”           “You can't just…,” I paused thinking about what I am going to say “I can't just go alone, and plus I don't know what's going on,”       “That's why your staying with me,”         We start walking to a farm out in the country. We stand outside a big building which looks to have been a very nice home in the past. It was beat up, abandoned, and probably infested with bugs, but it was still standing two stories high with very few rotting places. Who knew how old the place was, and who lived in it before whatever just started.          “You should sleep,” I say wiping a finger along the dusty counters.      “I'm not tired,” He says trying to hide his small yawn. “Nathan you can't just stay up the entire day and then watch me sleep at night. It's not like I'm gonna disappear if you sleep for an hour.”                “HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO KNOW THAT!” he takes a second to breathe and looks at me.           “I watched that thing attack you and I freaked out. I thought you were dead until you opened your eyes ,and even then you weren't really there.”            “Just please sleep,” I say walking away. I have never seen him act like this before, and it scares me. I know he must feel bad and probably wants to apologize, but I guess I just need to be alone. I ended up just reading in the shed; somehow all the books managed to survive the aging of the house.