I almost leaped out of the chair at his reaction. "Who?!" i said sheepishly. "Where are they?!?!" he yelled, and jumped at me. I leaped out of the chair, and, like a switch, i remembered:
It was 1860, the year the civil war started. My brother, John, had gone off to fight with the "Yankees" or the North, for short. I had trouble sleeping that night. As i lay down on my bed, i thought about John. I wondered, and wished, and thought about how or what he was doing. Sleep over came me, until i smelt a strange substance, and my face was wet. I opened up my eyes to find, i was being smothered. Struggled, i lashed out at them, hands and feet. But, the mysterious people tied me down, and i found that i was loosing consciousness. Slowly, slowly, i drifted off into swirling darkness.
I woke up in a white room, quiet, only my breathing could be heard. I had been dressed in a white robe, with a metal bracelet around my ankle. A man dressed in a white long coat came in carrying a clip board. "Subject 15. Come with me." An invisible force pushed me forward, and out of the room. I was instantly blindfolded, and slammed on a cold, hard surface. My last thought was, "Why can i hear children screaming?"
I had woken up on that subway, knowing, just knowing, what everything was called, how it worked. The knowledge of the present day.
As it all flooded back to me, i saw men in black running from the back of the room toward me, guns unleashed, shooting. I ran and hid behind a counter, bullet shells spraying over me. "You can run, but you can't hide, Sara Bow! You can't hide!" The man sneered the last words. But then, the bullets weren't the only thing that i was concerned about. He had said my name. Sara. Sara. Sara Bow. My name. Sara Bow. Then i yanked myself back into reality. They were throwing knives over the counter, one 14 inches away from me. I scrambled away from the counters, bullets wizzing past me once more. Shattered glass from stray bullets and knives were spattered on the floor, some giving me mediocre cuts on my arms and face. If i went out the door, they would pull the alarm. But i could make it out. Then i would probably see my name on national TV, a lie saying i started to fire, not them, and i wouldn't be safe. I'd have to hide myself every second. My only choice was the window. Hopefully, my injuries wouldn't be so bad.
I crossed my arms in front of my face, and hit the glass, dead on. One minute ago, gravity claimed me. Now i was in the air, falling, my golden blonde hair flying behind me. I could see people pointing, their stunned faces. The ground was approaching fast. And there was nothing, absolutely nothing, i could do to stop it. I counted down to my death in my head. 10...9....8..7..6...5...4...3...2...1 i hit the ground, expecting to go splat all over everybody. But i didn't. I only felt the shock wave of hitting the pavement shake my bones. What the hell? I thought. I didn't stand up, but heard voices getting louder and louder. I guessed people were starting to circle around me. Then i heard the man's voice, the shuffle of feet. I knew i had to get up, even in front of all these people. I bounced up, and ran down the nearest alley, hearing people's stunned voices. The alley got darker, and darker. It got quiet. Very quiet. I stopped for breath, and realized, the floor of the alley wasn't pavement, it was cobble stone. The sound of the word, the feel of the rock, took me back. To when i was in the 1800's.
"Hey, you!" i heard a hiss from behind a box. I turned my head to see a kid, about my age, in shredded clothes. He was in a box, and he was beckoning me towards him. "Why you here?" He said. As he spoke, i saw that he had horrible teeth. Yellow, falling out, gaps. "Um..."
"Anyway, if you here, you in trouble. Am i right?" he said, raising an eyebrow. "Yes." i said.
"Well then... Guys, it's safe to come out!" All around me, boys and girls, woman and Men, popped out of the Darkness. They hung lanterns, and the alley came to life. Children played, people traded. It was an alley for homeless people.
"Welcome to Boxster Alley!" The boy grinned. "What's your name?" The boy didn't stop for me to answer. "My name's Devlon." He flashed his horrible teeth again. "This is our over flow building. Yea, it's crowded, we're working on it. But for now, you live here. Get it?Got it? Good." Devlon said quickly. He turned on his heel and walked away. I looked up at the rusty building, it's windows either falling out, or boarded up. Loud voices came from it.
I walked into the building, the door almost coming off it's hinges. I walked up the creaky stairway, scared that I might fall through. I knocked on a door, and since i didn't hear anything, i assumed it was empty. The room itself was falling apart. It had a rusty bed with a mattress, an old wooden dresser, and a broken window. Where do I go to the bathroom? i queried. Sitting down on the mattress, i thought about why i hadn't died when I hit the ground. Did it had to do with waking up here? With being kidnapped in the middle of the night? What? Listening, I heard two voices:
"Did you hear about the girl who fell?"
"Yea. Rumor says she didn't die."
"Didn't die? But, how could someone survive that fall? She fell from level 45!"
I judged from the sound they were children. Then a woman's voice, probably their mom or grandmother, butted in.
"Children, don't talk about that stuff! Rumor are rumors, and most of the time they aren't true!"
"But Bob saw it!" One kid whined.
"Saw what?!"
"Saw the girl fall from the building!"
It was silent from there on. Then, i heard a knock on my door. A Chinese woman, probably in her late 60's, walked in, with sheets for my bed. "Hello. My name Li." Li smiled.
"Hello, Li." I smiled. She started to spread out the sheets, and I helped her. "Um..Li, where do I go to the bathroom."
"Bathroom down the hall. I get asked that all the time." She smiled. "Thankyou." I said.
"Lunch in 10 minutes. Mess hall down three stairs, to left." She walked out of the room. "At least the sheets are washed, and clean." I muttered to myself. Sure enough, in 10 minutes, a loud bell rang.
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