The Beginning of The End

To go outside?

Sophia

How far will you follow someone? This is a question I have often asked myself. I am often dragged along by my friends to places I would never venture alone and I have been known to just follow what someone says to do because I have not had the confidence to come up with an alternate solution. But would I blindly follow someone into a possibly dangerous situation - ah yes? I have in the past agreed to do things that could have severe consequences because I have not been willing to stand my ground and let my voice be heard. But after everything I have done would I let it happen again? That is the real question. I like to think that I have learned my lesson. That the consequences were enough to shock my mind into being more assertive and after the changes that have happened to me I believe that I am a different person to the one I have been for 10 years. But my life has changed dramatically and for the first time, I have changed with it. The old me wouldn't have lasted two seconds in my life today but so far I have survived and the question still remains - what will the future hold?

***

When you are put in a dangerous position you make rash decisions depending on how you feel that second and when you are bored and feel trapped you often make the worst decisions of all. When you get bored people often do stupid things to escape the endless time you have and exercise your mind.

My friends dealt with boredom in their own ways. Hattie spent most of the time eyes tightly shut. The rest of the time she was texting on her phone and trying to keep in touch with the outside world. John was the opposite - he wouldn't sit still for 30 seconds, if he wasn't pacing then he was doing physical exercises. He hardly ever sat down and only rested for a few hours to sleep. He spent the rest of his time on his feet.

I, on the other hand, was acting in my normal way. I hated to feel that I was losing control of my boring repetitive life. I set myself essays to do in order to keep my mind from the lingering darkness. Other than setting myself homework and attempting to keep up with my studies I spent extended periods of time within myself. If I tried hard enough I could pretend nothing had changed and then I would open my eyes and reality would hit me. The dark walls pressed in on me and the loss of normality hit me hard. I felt like life was spiralling rapidly beyond my control.

The first night Hattie and John had called their parents. They understood the situation and although they were uncertain about everything they agreed that it was important to act responsibly in order to keep them safe. Hattie's rich parents wanted her to be helicopter lifted from the area but they couldn't find anyone stupid enough to brave it especially after news came of the aeroplane that had been grounded after the engine exploded. Everyone on board had died.

I hoped constantly that Scarlett and Alex had not been on that plane but no one had been there to identify the bodies other than the press who only wanted answers to their questions. They had quotes from scientist and the government who all claimed not to worry. They assured us that this minor epidemic was being controlled and that everything would return to normal soon. They stressed that it was not something that the wider community should be concerned about and explained that the people of Stanville should just find somewhere safe to position themselves until the incident had been controlled.

We had only spent a couple of nights in the basement and I judged from the time that it was when I last checked my phone that the sun was reaching it's highest point in the sky. I guessed that it was another sunny summer day which didn't fit with the bleach sombre mood that had been cast over us for some time. The basement was not somewhere we wished to spend a lot of time in but under the circumstances, we made do with what we had.

I spoke to my next door neighbours when forced and tried to be as polite as possible. My friends did the same but they were obviously unhappy with the situation. I blamed my decision for their bad mood. I should have kept my mouth shut but I was trying to be reasonable.

Mum was the only person who acted as normal. She was instantly covered in paint, which was the only thing she had thought to bring in her in her mad dash across the street. The only difference was the atmosphere of her paintings. The darkness of the basement and the horror of the times had not only affected our lives but it had managed to enter mums normally friendly paintings. I think this scarred Joyce and Keith who had only seen the nature scenes similar to the one she had given them as a Christmas present which apparently hung in their living room. The scenes of natural beauty she usual painted were replaced by crazy scenes of dark twisted images. They had their own beauty but the images looked as if they had come directly from a horror movie or nightmare. They were all painted in a mixture of shades of black with the odd small patch of colour.

One was a young girl. Her face was in shadow and her hair was dark grey. A spider web of angry black slashes covered her face - dried blood I guess. The background was washed with grey. The only flash of colour was the blue in her eyes. But the look on her face was pure horror. There was pain and in her eyes. I guessed she was only ten years old.

Another was a lake in the forest. It was a nighttime scene but a white moon made the water in the foreground shimmer. The dark shapes of trees lined the background. They were formed in misshapen lines and not all up to their full height as if some had been destroyed. Another cobweb stretched across the water towards dark shapes floating in it. You could not clearly see what the shapes were but I guessed that they were bodies floating just above the waterline. Black smoke clouds curled up through the air in spiral patterns some of which seemed to form evil looking creatures when you stare at them for a long time. The picture was painted in dark shades and there was no colour to it; as if the life had been drained and taken the colour with it. To me, it looked like the lake that we used to go swimming in during to hottest days of summer. That was where the plane crashed.

The images came from my mum's mind and I feared that the news of recent events was affecting her more than I thought it was but she acted normally. If her paintings hadn't been so depressing I would have thought that nothing had changed. But I didn't know mum. I never would truly understand what was going on. I assumed she was just using the new inspiration and if we weren't trapped in the current situation I think that I would prefer the dark images to her usual bright colourful scenes which really contained nothing but what you could see out the window in her study and the background in the pictures which we had taken on our camping holiday in the forest of Dean last summer.

I was waiting for the boredom to take over and I didn't have to wait long. "I'm leaving. I have to know what's going on outside." John was nearly up the stairs before I had a chance to react.

"But you can't leave it's not safe. We are all bored but we just have to stick it out that's what the scientists said." Hattie wasn't pretending to sleep at the time. She was frantically searching for a signal so she could receive a really important text message from goodness knows who.

"Well, I can't stay here. So either you're with me or you're not?" John had paused on the stairs.

I gulped. I didn't like the basement any more than he did and I could feel the walls pressing in on me as I sat there but risking the bees and potentially getting myself killed was not an option in my mind.

I looked at my mum but she wasn't even listening. Her most recent painting was demanding all of her attention. My neighbours were talking amongst themselves and hadn't even noticed the activity of me and my friends. I appealed to Hattie.

She was quickly reading the text message that had just arrived on her phone when she finally wandered through a patch of signal. "I'm with you." Hattie was no help either. What did that text say?

"Are you coming, Soph?" Nice of them to realise I was here.

I could see no other option and I didn't want to stay here if I had a choice but I didn't want to leave the safety of the basement either. In the end, I nodded and followed them up the stairs almost reluctantly but relieved at the same time, I took the stairs two at a time to catch up.

When we reached the flat storage area at the top of the stairs, my hearing sensed a faint buzzing behind the door. I hesitated. In our current situation, my friends sensed it too. I didn't want to be wrong but I was about to panic. I didn't care how much the basement closed in on me I was not going out there if the bee that followed us here the other day was still out there.

John grabbed the spade that was hung on one of the hooks. Surrounding it was other gardening equipment that looked brand new and still gleamed.

His grip tightened on the handle of the door. The other hand held the shovel in a firm grip, above his head ready to attack if it was required. I was at the back unsure of what to do.

The door swung open and John swung the shovel at the same time. All of the motion was blurry. John hesitated mid-swing but it was too late to stop the end of the shovel making contact. The problem was that it was not a bee that hovered in the doorway but Pete who house was on the other side of mine to Joyce and Keith's.

The shovel made a too loud hard c***k sound as it impacted. The shot was aimed perfectly and he fell from the blow to his skull.

We were through the door in an instant even me having forgotten about the bees completely. Pete had crumpled against the nearby wall. Something in my mind was yelling we have killed him we actually killed him. But a moan fell from his lips.

I rushed over I barely knew him but I was the only person he might have a chance of recognising.

He opened his eyes. "Sophia?" At least he recognised me but he was obviously confused. "What happened?"

"You hit your head when we opened the basement door." John's voice came from behind me. It was filled with concern but he wasn't about to admit that he had nearly killed someone.

"You should probably sit down in the living room it will stop you from falling asleep after knocking your head like that." I wasn't about to contradict John but it was important that we didn't add murder to the list of weird things that had happened this week.

We moved into the living room in which mum's painting proudly hung on the wall among school photos of Ethan. It took the combined effort of Hattie and John to support his weight and I got the job of opening the doors because I am not that strong and I would just get in the way.

The cream walls and leather sofas that decorated the living room were reasonably modern and the carpet was new. The clock above the fireplace read 1.25. My timing wasn't far off.

"What brings you over here?" I wanted to keep him talking and stop him from dozing off.

"I came to see if Joyce and Keith were ok. I worry about them when they didn't answer the phone today. I feared the worst had happened." He was clutching his head with his hand. I faint crimson smudge appeared below it.

"There fine. We have been hiding in the basement. It's kind of like a big camp out except that we are indoors." Hattie's bubbly personality made the conversation seem easy. She didn't even have to pretend that the door had hit him, she sounded generally normal anyway. "How did you know we were in the basement anyway?"

I was happy to let the others take control of the conversation and instead focused on Pete's face. Was it me or was it getting paler? The Scarlett colour was very obvious now. A fine layer appeared between each finger but he didn't seem to notice.

"I followed the notes. They lead me to the door of the basement." I had forgotten that I hadn't taken them down. If the bees could read we would have been easily found. Instantly after I had thought it I wanted to slap myself. Fear was turning me insane or at least worry was stopping me from thinking logically. I focused on the current problem.

Pete wobbled but then he appeared fine. Each time he blinked the interval seemed shorter and his eyes remained closed for a bit of extra time. His eyes were bloodshot and stained a similar colour to the one running down his face. He was no longer speaking and he seemed more tired than before. He was getting lower in the chair every second; his body coming out from beneath him.

My friend searched for questions; anything that would get them into a conversation. I thought he must have been confused by the whole thing as he had spoken to them as if he knew them and never once questioned who they were.

I got up to fetch a towel or some tissue from the mess in the store cupboard; anything that would stop the bleeding from reaching the cream tones of the surrounding furniture and carpet.

He collapsed. His head slumped forward on the chair that he was sat on and he fell to the ground. Another deadening thud sounded as his body impacted with the solid ground.

I raced forward and turned his face towards the ceiling. His eyes were open. They were now a similar scarlet colour to the liquid that had stained the carpet. His face was whiter than the walls.

Even though I didn't need to I checked his pulse I did. Dead. Now, what were we going to do? We had killed someone. But I realised it was not 'we' who had killed someone it was John. My eyes caught his and I shoved all thoughts out of my head. Someone was dead in my neighbour's house and we were there staring at his lifeless body. When was this nightmare going to end?