by ASHLEY BEAL
Rows upon rows of colors is all you see as you walk down the deserted street; the once stunning architecture is littered with graffiti. After the attacks, my town is severely damaged and very few citizens remain. Besides myself, there are about ten others that refuse to be scared into submission. Even now, a year after the attacks started, we see new people invading and tearing down my once beautiful home.
I step up to the one that was most recently done. Its simple yet serious, commanding yet calm, a portrait of this town’s nightmare. Vicrum. For a year now, he always shows up and tries to scare everyone out of town- about twenty of us are left, if that. Vicrum always wears the same thing: a simple black cape with intricate designs going down the hemline, black combat boots, a dark blue henley tee shirt, and a dark blue mask. He may not sound like much, but he is the most ruthless person that I have ever met, and I have met many terrible people in my time. At one point I used to trust him; back then he wasn’t Vicrum, he was Jay. That was the past though, and if anyone thinks of the past that is all they become, a shadow of the past.
I keep walking towards the end of the street to my home. As I pass by one of the abandoned buildings, a shadow shoots past me, but I think nothing of it. Looking back at it, I probably should have paid more attention to my surroundings rather than the past.
“Hey Aliah,” he said.
A chill ran down my spine, dreading everything and my mind telling me to just run away, I turn around. I thought I would be face to face with death, but I guess it’s not time yet; it is just the past visiting again. So as I turn with Jay right in front of me, I break. I fall to my knees ready to crash and burn.
“You O.K.?” He asked, like he actually cared.
“Just fine,” I replied.
I got back up, thinking that death would be better than this. So instead of reverting to my past, I just turned and away from that wretched street, escaping to my hiding place.