{"id":741,"date":"2016-01-08T20:01:50","date_gmt":"2016-01-08T20:01:50","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.waylandmiddleschool.org\/orange_black\/?p=741"},"modified":"2016-01-08T20:01:50","modified_gmt":"2016-01-08T20:01:50","slug":"timeless-chapter-3","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.waylandmiddleschool.org\/orange_black\/timeless-chapter-3\/","title":{"rendered":"Timeless–Chapter 3"},"content":{"rendered":"
\r\n
\r\n \r\n <\/i>\r\n <\/a>\r\n <\/span>\r\n<\/div><\/div>

In the morning I wake up to the sounds of birds chirping. I expect to hear a fire burning or the sound of footsteps or at least the feel of hands shaking me, but I don\u2019t. It still hasn\u2019t dawned on me that Camila is gone. Sometimes at night I can feel her \u201cghost\u201d lurking around me, never leaving me alone. Whenever I close my eyes I see her face. Her cocoa powdered hair in her usual ponytail and her eyes watching me deeply. She\u2019s my ghost. Every day. Every night. Fear washes over me like an ocean wave as I think about what might be happening to her. She might be dead for all I know. Sometimes you have to find things out for yourself because sometimes you might think that someone is gone and never come back for them and then you figure out that if you had come back and helped them they would\u2019ve been with you today and you can never live with the fact in life that you were the cause of someone\u2019s murder. That\u2019s why I need to find Camila. My heart aches with loneliness. I feel weak. I pause in my footsteps and stand quietly for just a bit, telling myself, Snap out of it Bree! To find Camila you need to be on focus one hundred percent. Just let your mind think about some of your favorite things, like birthday parties and other stuff you enjoyed before the future came. <\/p>\n

I cool down and continue to walk, taking deep breaths in and out. After a while my palms start to sweat and my body is sore. I don\u2019t stop when the owls start cooing at night. I continue to walk, not knowing where I\u2019m going. I might even be taking a trip to hell without even knowing it. I pant continuously for each new place I search and find that there is no trace of Camila. I feel that my search is hopeless and Camila might already be floating up in the air watching over me and seeing me struggle on my search to find her. She might even be yelling at me to stop looking for her because she\u2019s dead and that I should focus on living. I watch the never ending woods in front and let the night swallow me whole, for I am a human being and human beings have to sleep. <\/p>\n

Eventually.<\/p>\n

***
\nThe next morning is dry. My Mother\u2019s words ring in my ear. \u201c\u2018Don\u2019t let those wanna be\u2019s get stuck into your head and break you into pieces. Break them.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n

I still couldn\u2019t understand how I could break them. Would I physically hurt them? Or would I get to them inside by tormenting all the things they love in a way which ends up killing them? I was really confused but I knew whichever way I broke them I would have to keep my Mother\u2019s promise. I would find Camila and save her and if I was too late, I would never forgive myself. <\/p>\n

***
\nSometimes when you’re so upset about something you don\u2019t notice the world around you. You don\u2019t notice how the leaves rustle or how the air is filled with crispness. You don\u2019t even notice how everything goes together in unision. Like a sunset on an autumn day where the sky turns a rosy pink and the sun sets in an orange flame. That\u2019s how I feel right now. I feel drained of color. I feel as if I\u2019m a zombie. i reach a point where I see a cottage. It\u2019s a pleasant cottage. Kind of like the ones you see in the movies where you knock on the door and a nice old lady let\u2019s you in for a cup of tea and a package of biscuits. I walk towards the door. I can\u2019t think straight. It\u2019s like my brain switched off. My hand shoots up in the air and I curl my fingers up into a fist and pound the door. Idiot!, I think, but it\u2019s too late. The door clicks open and a woman with long red cherry colored hair stands at the doorway. Her lips are purse and her face is glossed with makeup to perfection.<\/p>\n

\u201cHi.\u201d she says, in a crisp European accent. \u201cHow may I help you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cUmm\u2026 Do you know where the nearest rest stop is?\u201d I ask without thinking. The lady chuckles. \u201cWhy, the nearest rest stop is right here. Why don\u2019t you take a little pause while I fasten up some omelettes?\u201d she asks.<\/p>\n

\u201cOkay.\u201d I say quickly and hurry into the bathroom. As soon as I lock the door, I load my gun. Just in case if she\u2019s not that sweet lady in those fairy tales I have a back up. I gulp as I reopen the bathroom door and quietly tip toe out. I pause on my way, just in case she\u2019s revealing a plan or something. Instead she just sings a song while she flips an omelette on the pan.<\/p>\n

\u201cIf we drove all the way to Dallas. Just to buy an Easter dress. We\u2019d take along a Rand McNally\u2026\u201d I automatically knew what song she was singing. It was Automatic, by Miranda Lambert. I listened for a couple of minutes. The woman had a beautiful voice, nothing like her accent. She was like Adele, but her voice was smooth and soft. I cupped my hands to my ear to hear better. <\/p>\n

\u201cBack before everything became automatic, automatic.\u201d <\/p>\n

It was the end of the song. I sighed as I leant against the chipped, rough wall behind me. The blue that had once been there bow looked like a grayish brown and the floor was dusty. I had already clicked the gun in preparation just in case, but there was something different about this woman. It felt like she was a person I could trust, so I walked into the living room casually and waited for her to say something. She didn\u2019t. She was busy cooking another omelette.<\/p>\n

\u201cAhem,\u201d I coughed. \u201cI guess I better be going. It was nice to meet you.\u201d<\/p>\n

The woman turned around. \u201cAlready? You didn\u2019t even have your omelette yet!\u201d she said. \u201cHow about you stay over for the night, Cheryl\u2026 Lacee\u2026 I never learned your name did I? Silly me, I\u2019m sorry sugar, would you mind telling me your name?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMy name is Bree.\u201d I said strongly.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat a nice name.\u201d the woman said as she smiled. \u201cMy name is Maria,\u201d she said as she set down the omelettes on the table and we each dug in. I watched Maria while I was eating. She could have a weapon on her and I couldn\u2019t take the risk. I noticed during the entire meal she left her right hand on her lap. She didn\u2019t seem to have trouble eating with her left hand, so either she\u2019s a lefty or she\u2019s ambidextrous. She soon noticed I was watching her right arm because she moved her arm on the table. Phew! I thought. Maybe she wasn\u2019t so bad after all.<\/p>\n

***
\nI stayed over that night. Maybe she wouldn\u2019t be so bad. Maria slept very quickly. Maybe she was a fast sleeper. Or maybe she\u2019s sleeping quickly so when I fall asleep she can wake up and kill me. People are so unpredictable these days. You can never tell who\u2019s good and who\u2019s bad. <\/p>\n

For the rest of the night I stay awake. I don\u2019t want to take any chances about losing my life to someone sweet and even though i kind of trust her, half of me is telling me to leave while I can. Camila would probably grab me out of the pink floral covers I was buried underneath and make me walk with her to find a new place to rest. That\u2019s the difference between me and Camila. Camila can figure out what she\u2019s gonna do at that moment and I can\u2019t. Sometimes I wish I was her.<\/p>\n

***
\nThe next morning when I wake up Maria is frying some bacon in the kitchen. As soon as I walk in, Maria notices me.<\/p>\n

\u201cHow you doin\u2019?\u201d she asks me.<\/p>\n

\u201cFine.\u201d I reply ruffling my hair. Maria gestures to a seat at the table and places two plates on the top. Both with three slices of bacon and one fried egg. <\/p>\n

\u201cYou eat a lot of protein.\u201d I say, chuckling.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ve always tried to be a healthy eater since I was a child, but I just love the protein.\u201d she says taking a crunch out of her bacon.<\/p>\n

I look down at my plate. She could have poisoned the food. I then look up at her trustworthy face and see her adoring smile and beaming brown eyes, and can\u2019t resist but take a bite.<\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n

I think I was knocked unconscious because when I wake up I\u2019m in a different place. I\u2019m sitting on a chair with a rope tied around me. This is weird\u2026 I think, staring at the room around me. I\u2019m still in Maria\u2019s house but the lights are dimmed and there are blood stains and scuff marks plastering the floor. I cringe. If that\u2019s not my blood, whose blood is that? I try to break free but the ropes are too strong, like they are made of pure leather. I hear footsteps later. A clicking sound of heels hitting the floor. A woman appears out of the darkness. She is not Maria but another lady with a similar face. Unlike Maria though, she has blue eyes and curly maple brown hair.<\/p>\n

\u201cHello.\u201d she says. \u201cWe\u2019ll be running a few tests on you, just come along.\u201d she turns around and walks a few steps, then turns when she figures out I\u2019m not following her. She then chuckles. \u201cOh, I forgot to untie you, didn\u2019t I?\u201d after the strange woman inties me, I quickly reach into my hoodie pocket where my gun should be. It\u2019s not there. While I was knocked out someone probably found it and took it. The lady continued to walk with her fancy clipboard and throws a piece of wintergreen gum into her mouth. She finally stops at a room which wasn\u2019t there before and leads me inside of it. The room is plastered in a color of white. People wandering around were even wearing white.
\n\u201cPlease sit in this chair while Ms. Monro comes to start the procedure.\u201d she says, grinning gleefully like she had done her job perfectly. The woman later turns around leaving me waiting in a seat for the so called \u201cMs. Monro\u201d. I mean who could that be. A few minutes later of waiting time, a woman with a kit comes my way. I immediately recognize her. She is Maria. As soon as she sees me she frowns.<\/p>\n

\u2018\u201cThat crazy Cathy,\u201d she mutters under her breath. \u201cnever doing her job.\u201d
\nMaria then takes some rope from her kit and ties it around me.<\/p>\n

\u201cThere!\u201d she says wiping her hands on her lab coat like I\u2019m carrying something contagious. She stares at her kit pulling out syringes both empty and full, bandages, and a microscope with lenses.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat are you doing?\u201d I ask, breaking her concentration.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe are testing to see if you are the one, Ms. Suvil.\u201d she says impatiently, gritting her teeth as she gets back to her work.<\/p>\n

\u201cHow do you know my name?\u201d I ask.<\/p>\n

\u201cI know everything, Ms. Suvil.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHow do you know everything?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI just do.\u201d<\/p>\n

I keep quiet, watching as she fills one of the syringes with some blue liquid.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s that?\u201d I ask curiously.<\/p>\n

\u201cSomething.\u201d she says, anger rising. \u201cNow will you please shut up?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat happened to when you were sweet and stuff?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s called acting, Ms. Suvil. You should try it some day.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s the blue liquid?\u201d I say directing the topic.<\/p>\n

\u201cShut. Up.\u2019 she says again, her face turning red as her hair.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy should I?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBecause, I said you should.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t have to listen to you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cArgh!\u201d she screams. She then takes a piece of white duct tape and covers my mouth.
\n\u201cThere, that should keep you quiet.\u201d she mutters, flipping her hair onto her left shoulder. I muffle through the duct tape, wanting to scream at her.
\n\u201cYou pathetic humans from the past.\u201d she says at last. \u201cYou think you can outfit the future? Well, you can\u2019t. You don\u2019t have the technology, the smarts. Nothing. That\u2019s why we\u2019re killing you off one by one.\u201d she snorts a diabolical laugh.<\/p>\n

She then inserts the blue liquid into my shoulder, sending pain blast through my body. I feel my head wobble back in forth unnaturally. Then as soon as it starts, it stops.
\n\u201cGood.\u201d she says. Then she takes an empty syringe and injects blood from me. The loss of so little blood should not feel the way it\u2019s feeling now, but it does. My feet start shaking like I\u2019m hyperactive and my body rocks back and forth violently. Maria watches in a smirk. She puts an ice pack on my forehead, making my body stay still.<\/p>\n

She then takes a sample of my blood, which looks darker than normal, and puts it in a testing vial. Maria pours a drop of my blood into a testing tube containing some gooey purple liquid, which makes the chemical steam and sends a shock to the computer in her kit, blinking with green lights. She stares in disbelief.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re the one\u2026\u201d she mutters. \u201cNo, it can\u2019t be\u2026\u201d she presses the reload button on the computer, thinking the computer was glitching.<\/p>\n

\u201cUgh!\u201d she yelled when she figured it wasn\u2019t. She then steered her concentration to me.
\n\u201cYou little muskrat, you think you\u2019ve won\u2026 You\u2019re lucky it\u2019s you or you would\u2019ve been dead by now, just like your pathetic family. Still think your sister\u2019s alive?\u201d she smirked. \u201cWell think again.\u201d she walked off making a click clack of her heels. My world was spinning upside down with her words. Did she mean that Camila was dead? The thing that made me most awestruck is the fact that I am \u201cthe one\u201d. The one for what? The one that\u2019s going to die, because that\u2019s something everyone is \u201cthe one\u201d for. Maria later comes back with a man. <\/p>\n

\u201cYou sure she\u2019s the one.\u201d he whispers to her in a hoarse voice.
\n\u201cI\u2019m sure.\u201d she says. \u201cI was just as surprised as you are when I figured it out. She just doesn\u2019t seem\u2026 You know.\u201d<\/p>\n

The man stepped closer to me and took the duct tape off my mouth.
\n\u201cYou’re the one,\u201d he pauses to take a breath. \u201cdid you know that?\u201d
\nI shook my head. The man lifted my chin.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, it means that you\u2019re the missing piece to end the human race.\u201d
\nI stared at the man in awe.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat do you mean, \u2018the end of the human race\u2019\u201d I ask quietly.<\/p>\n

\u201cI mean,\u201d he says. \u201cthat you have a special genetic type of dna in your blood that can act as a poison to other humans.\u201d he says calmly.<\/p>\n

\u201cDoes it work on any human?\u201d I ask again.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes. So that\u2019s why we\u2019re going to suction up one vial of blood from you every day so we can build a special weapon that will wipe out you race in one shot.\u201d he says.<\/p>\n

\u201cBree, do you know what my name is?\u201d he asks me.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo.\u201d I reply weakly.<\/p>\n

\u201cDr. Chandler Sullivan, your future son.\u201d <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

In the morning I wake up to the sounds of birds chirping. I expect to hear a fire burning or the sound of footsteps or at least the feel of hands shaking me, but I don\u2019t. It still hasn\u2019t dawned on me that Camila is gone. Sometimes at night I can feel her \u201cghost\u201d lurking […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":6,"featured_media":744,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[3],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-741","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-all-posts"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.waylandmiddleschool.org\/orange_black\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/741","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.waylandmiddleschool.org\/orange_black\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.waylandmiddleschool.org\/orange_black\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.waylandmiddleschool.org\/orange_black\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/6"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.waylandmiddleschool.org\/orange_black\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=741"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/www.waylandmiddleschool.org\/orange_black\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/741\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":742,"href":"https:\/\/www.waylandmiddleschool.org\/orange_black\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/741\/revisions\/742"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.waylandmiddleschool.org\/orange_black\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/744"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.waylandmiddleschool.org\/orange_black\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=741"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.waylandmiddleschool.org\/orange_black\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=741"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.waylandmiddleschool.org\/orange_black\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=741"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}