Daybreak: A Narrative Fiction

The Walls weren’t able to provide for their children . The father was an alcoholic , who wasn’t able to maintain a job .The mother was an artist, that one may say she was in “dream land “. They were always on the run or as the dad called it , doing the “skedaddle.” The dad would often tell the kids , it was because the mafia or the cops were chasing after him. In addition the dad never seemed to appeal to civilization, he would always tell the kids: ”These cities will kill you”.

night the train came at three in the morning. Jim and will both heard it and

Sam was walking home from the Morrisville Market with a full bag of groceries. The sun was hot and no clouds were in sight. He smelled the fresh bread being baked in the shops. He felt like nothing could go wrong, and oh how wrong he was about that. The sidewalk was cracked right in front of Lana’s Diner glowed an odd red light. “What the……AHHHHHH!” When a garbage truck pulled up the garbage man found Sam lying face down on the sidewalk with a \

Amidst the swirling ripple of faceless people meandering around fire hydrants, pedestrian signs, and ragged newspaper stands, he stood; embedded within the relentless stream of continuous people trickling by him. The occasional nudge threatened to dislodge his balance as he gazed across the road where two buildings laden by carmine shaded bricks separated. The same two buildings he walked directly pass early in the dewy morning and late in the brisk evening weather everyday for the past two decades. Surely he knew every wondering power line and dimly lit alley of the surrounding neighborhood? Yet something glimmered from in between the impossibly small gap separating the buildings. His conscious turned from thought to action as he leapt from the scuffed curb and into the high voltage current of traffic without a second

“I’m gonna go after Sarah!” Luke screamed over the noise and without second thought, he took off running. My eyes went wide as he was immediately lost in the crowd of walkers.

Well, today’s the big day! I woke up and burst out of bed, almost falling over in the process. I ran downstairs to wake up my Mom and Dad, but of course, they were already up and running.

In Oklahoma, where there are bloody rumbles and serious crimes made here in this big city, but there is a tiny sixteen year old boy living in the middle of it all, and that was me, Johnny. The Greaser was like a second home for each other. They were rough, old fashion, and have been In rumbles where breaking your arm wasn’t a serious injury, but they help another out. I, in the other hand, was not like them. They say that heroes need a dark past in order to be stronger in the comics I read, but that didn’t happen to me. I was abused by my own parents and I got jumped by those rich Socs. They left scars and pain for me, I felt like I’ve gotten weaker after this, not stronger.

Ray Karner was a 35 year old man who shovels dead bodies into furnaces. He was the type of person who loved memories. Anything he thought was meaningful, he immediately jotted down in his diary. He had a daughter and a wife who he loved dearly. Many memories of them took up about half of his small pocket book. One after another, great days would pass by. But later he soon came to realize that things don’t always seem the way you want them to be.

At night, dogs prowled the streets, their heavy paws slamming against the cold, hard concrete. Their masters holding them from behind, restraining them from running away wild, rampaging along the quiet city. The civilians called them the Guards, always roaming the streets, keeping us “safe”. The city itself was dark, bleak and dying. The smell of pollution wafted throughout the buildings and roads.

I saw no one. Not a living person was near the cliff. No one could see me if I just walked through the barrier undetected. My gut told me to go back, and get my friends, that I shouldn’t go through the barbed wire gates without someone by my side. But my head was stronger, and I carelessly walked in. Behind the barbed wire gates was an area in the city I’d never seen or remembered the last time I lived there. It looked like one of those military sectors mixed with a secret science lab. The place was enclosed in gates all around. Most of the land was filled with white warehouses and small buildings. What is this place? What is this place? What is this place? Don’t trust this place. This place is dangerous. Stop walking. Stop being annoying and leave. They are after you.

Please pause for a moment, and picture in your mind the washed away remnants of what used to be a seemingly insignificant city; it is rather difficult to recognize from all the earthquake rubble and debris that there once was a town here. Bits and pieces of what used to be homes are now scattered from one end of the view to the other. A gloomy haze of dust, smoke and ash have recently enveloped over the entire countryside. Sounds of screaming, yelling and crying are bombarding one’s hearing senses; a smell of unbelievable human decaying stench is so overwhelming, the odors stimulate the gag reflex and tear ducts to produce endless retching and a cleansing wash of foul air from one’s eyes. Hungry ownerless dogs are fighting over dead infant

It’s official. I am Screwed. Anna periodically handed Norman her cell phone whenever too many girls was gaining his attention. It wasn’t the ones who tried to speak with him in passing or with as little attention to themselves and what they were doing. What had caused Anna to use her speed dial button on turbo were the ones who openly, proudly, and loudly wanted to get Normans attention and or an agreement to out out on a date, as friends of course. No one wanted to be responsible for him becoming happily single. Norman no longer batted an eye when Anna passed him her cell phone.

“three weeks, five days” JJ smiled as he spoke, he was walking around with Harley, his eyes wondering all over the building. He wasn’t wearing his robin uniform anymore, that was changed at least a week and a half ago. He was wearing something like Harleys outfit black and red pants with a black and red vest that fit to his body, which was wearing thin. He couldn’t remember the last time he ate must have been days ago.

The city street was barren upon the arrival of the Pantheon. For Peryn, it was odd to not hear the chatter from the people and their motors’ roaring, or the scent of burning street food. In fact, it felt so much like a ghost town that it scared her. Yet, the resolute

“ That’s exactly the point we aren't fake ghosts, well at least i'm not,” she yelled.