*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/640468-Locke---12
Rated: E · Book · Teen · #1528430
5 kids live in a world where everything is planned for them they have powers not completed
<<< Previous · Entry List · Next >>>
#640468 added March 14, 2009 at 11:44pm
Restrictions: None
Locke - 12
Everything was empty. The town was barren, eerie, and quiet. The only sound to Locke was the sound of his own heart and the sound of his footsteps slapping the ground. So lonely. Ever since he had found out that he wasn’t really living in the real world and tried to escape, therefore resulting in some injuries to some of the people who were here, they had removed everyone from his company. Even though it wasn’t really his fault that they followed him up the tree and fell.





Other than living in the strange world, which was now pointless cause there was no one there, he was just a normal kid that literally had no one to talk to.





He jogged around the outside of his town daily. There was a metal wall that had appeared when what ever was on the horizon disappeared. So he jogged along that, always checking for a door, but never finding one on the never changing wall.





Slap Slap slap sl… He came up to the factory where he stayed, since he couldn’t stand going back to where he had lived before unless for food. He pulled open the doors and picked up the flashlight, he pulled the door shut behind him and the flashlight flickered to life. It was still bright enough that it illuminated the office where he slept. He shined it at his food supply which was running low, then at the clock.





The lights above, meant to represent the sun were set to go off at 9:00 p.m. and set to come back on at 9:00 a.m. He had to hours before he was left in total darkness since the street lights never came on anymore.





He sprinted to his old house and used the key to get inside. Everything remained untouched from when they had come looking for him. Tables were overturned and the couch, his old favorite hiding spot, was ripped apart, its stuffing scattered across the living room.





His bedroom was worse. All of his clothes had been ripped out and flung across the room and his few stuffed animals he had kept were ripped apart, giving his room the same dirty aspect as the front room. His blankets were balled up in a corner of the room and his mattress, his other favorite hiding spot, had been taken out of his room completely and he still hadn’t found it.





They had left the food alone, even though most of it had gone bad, and all he was stuck with was canned foods. But that was fine with him. He had never liked foods that some body else had touched before him, so canned foods were his favorite.





It took a lot of self-control, not to clean up the front room as he walked back outside with his stash. He didn’t want to give them any reason to think that he kept coming back. Because he knew that one day, they would come back and try to find him. But hopefully he wouldn’t be here when the came.





He opened the door and sprinted back to his warehouse, getting into the office he shut the door, locked it and leaned against the wall, not allowing himself to think anything, or feel anything. There was nothing but loneliness and he had had enough of that for one day.





He shined his flashlight on the door and waited for night to fall. He heard the shutting down of the lights outside and curled up into a ball on the floor, covering his head with a blanket. The flashlight was his only source of light and he was very greatful he had that.











Voices sounded outside and Locke froze. The flashlight flickered in is hand and died, just as the voices got louder and the panic grew in his chest.





I can’t do this any more. There is no one, no where. I can’t talk to any one. It’s so dark. All these empty buildings. Why me? He thought and squeezed his eyes shut.





“Where did he go?” The voices were now close enough that he could hear them.





“In that factory.” Panic clenched in his chest as he heard the doors squeaked open.





There was a banging noise on his door and Locke wished his flashlight was working. The door cracked and he felt hands grip his feet and pull him out from the safety of his blanket. “NO!!!” He shouted trying to get a grip on the floor as he was pulled backwards out into the night.











Locke gasped and pulled the blanket back up over his head from where it had slipped down to when he was asleep. His reoccurring nightmare was getting more detailed even though it never happened when he was asleep. He stared down at his fingers in the darkness, still feeling them slid across the gripless floor.





Tomorrow he would get out. Tomorrow he would escape and be free.


© Copyright 2009 Ben N' Riley (UN: black_wings14 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Ben N' Riley has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
<<< Previous · Entry List · Next >>>
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/640468-Locke---12