Two Week Contest 4
Topic Sentance:You cant run away from me forever
Winner(s)tied: Chandani and Janelle
Rebel
by Chandani
"Hello Miranda.” The slow deep voice said through the phone.
“Your guys can’t kill me dad.” I said. My voice hard, and cold as ice.
“I didn’t send them to kill you, just to bring you home.” He lied. I could tell, even though we were probably more that 10,000 miles apart. “Oh really? I must have gotten mixed up when they started open fire on me.” I retorted sarcastically. I heard a muffled sigh from the other line. “You need to stop this nonsense.” I laughed; he thought he still had power over me? He thought he could make me stop in my tracks by using the “dad” voice? This dude was in serious need of a wake up call.
“I’ll stop when you stop torturing people!” I started hanging up the phone. “You can’t run away from me forever.” He whispered so quite I almost didn’t hear him. I knew what he said was the truth. So I responded with my own truth. “ I can try.”
My name is Miranda Pennington. I’m 19 years old, and I just happen to be running from the CIA, FBI, and Homeland Security. All of which my dad practically owns, so all in all I’m running from my father. Why am I running from him? From the dad I once looked up to? Because he’s a fake. My whole life, I thought that my father helped people. Now I know the exact opposite.
A few years ago my father, created a branch of Homeland Security specializing in chemical warfare. It wasn’t until six months ago that I found out it was just a front. My father and his colleagues were working on a different kind of warfare. Biological warfare.
When I say Biological warfare I mean things like human bombs, poisons and pretty much things that could take out our enemies, without even having to send over troops. My father, in his search for what he called “The future” took a step beyond horrible, beyond disgusting and one that leaves you at a loss for words. He decided that in order to have a truly safe America, he needed real people as his guinea pigs. The day I found out about this will never leave my mind. It was my 19th birthday, which is pretty memorable even without learning that your dad is a torturous maniac.
The day had started out well. Most of them do. I woke up, made some coffee and went to dad’s room to say good morning. When he wasn’t in his room I checked his office. Well he wasn’t there, so he was either in his lab, or he had spontaneously decided to sleep in the basement. I immediately ruled out the latter and grabbed my coat to go to the lab. My father’s laboratory is where he keeps all of his documents, research and as I would learn that day, test subjects. The lab is about a mile walk away from the house, and was pretty much in the middle of nowhere. It was a large blue building with 4 floors. It had 6 massive glass windows on each floor, and twice the amount of cameras in each room. Trust me, I’ve counted. On the door to enter the laboratory there is a keypad, which requires a 26-digit access code. I had memorized the code one day when I was five, watching dad punch it in.
I had planned on just going into my father’s office and reminding him that I was alive and that it was my birthday. And if I hadn’t heard the screaming I probably would have. I would have just gone in there let my father lie through his teeth about some breakthrough having to do with lasers, and why he had to sleep over at the lab. I would have gone home and have my party, I would have continued to happily live my fathers lie. I sure as hell wouldn’t have been running from the government. But I did hear the scream. I heard the horrible shrieks of pain that were coming from the glass room a few yards away from me. I cautiously walked to the glass door, dreading to see some woman being killed, or robbed or something. It was none of these, but let me assure you that what I saw on that day changed my life forever. Behind the glass there was a woman, no older than thirty, screaming and writhing on the floor. She was in a hospital gown and attached o several machines, but it was obvious that these machines were not exactly helping her.
She screamed again as red liquid began spewing out of her eyes ears and mouth. She sat straight up and clutched at her head. “Help!!” She shrieked at me, looking me straight in the face. I was helpless. There was no way of me getting inside the glass room, and there on one on the floor seemed to notice that anything was happening. Her shrieking stopped abruptly only to be replaced with an earsplitting explosion. When I had composed myself enough to look back into the room all I saw was a bloody headless corpse. My breathing sped up a notch, and then another. Soon enough each breath sounded like a shuddering sob in my own ears. I took a clumsy step away from the body. Now men in blue scrubs were gathering around the room taking notes, not paying any mind to me standing there. In a daze I went to my fathers office. Its just a mistake…dad will fix it…. I assured myself. My fathers office is large and white with black and white paintings on all of the walls. His desk faces the door on the opposite side of the room. I walked in expecting to find my father there going over notes, or typing away on his computer. I found none of these. On my fathers desk I found a packet of papers with the words Subject #47 In bold letters across the top. Underneath those words I saw a picture and profile, of the woman who had just been decapitated in front of my very eyes. My eyes bulged. I flipped quickly through the booklet, reading facts about radiation poisoning, and drug combinations.
Theory of Human weaponry.
It has been observed in cases of radiation poisoning, where a patient should begin to bleed from facial cavities, such as the eyes ears and nose. We theorized that should high concentrated doses of radiation, similar to that of chemo therapy (Only stronger) be mixed with other conflicting medications cause the effect of a human bomb. Not only will the subject he decapitated, but if given a high enough dosage, radiation could be secreted into the air, causing all people surrounding the subject to suffer from exploding of the skull. Not just a bomb, but an easily placed, and infectious bomb. We are currently running trials to try and prove this theory, so far Test subjects have shown progress but not the wanted results. We have three new subjects coming in. Subject #47, #48, #49.
Robert Pennington.
I read through the whole thing, gasping at the sight of my own fathers name on the paper. I looked from the letter, to the woman’s profile. She was #47, and she had shown results. She had been a human bomb.
“Miranda?” My father said as he opened the door. “What are you doing in my office?” He said. I moved away from his desk, trying to not look suspicious. “Um, you weren’t at home this morning and its my birthday…” He completely ignored my last statement. “Were you reading my things?” He accused, his voice sounding more and more like the monster that he was than the loving father that he pretended to be. “No, I—I was just waiting for you!” He went over to his desk and saw the opened files. “Miranda. Tell me what you saw.” He said. His voice was threatening, as if I would have to suffer consequences if I didn’t oblige. “I just saw…That woman’s profile.” I lied. “Is she a patient?” He turned to me. He knew I was lying, I could see it on his face. “Yes honey. She’s a patient here. Were treating her.” He went along with the lie. “That’s good. Well I just wanted to say good morning.” I smiled woodenly at him. “Good morning. Now run along, ill be home soon.” He said, mirroring my smile. “Okay. Bye.” I practically ran out that horrible building. As soon as I was home I went into my room, grabbed my backpack and shoved everything that I would possibly need in it. I knew too much. My father knew that I knew too much. And I know that he’s going to do something. Right now, I possessed powerful government secrets, and I’m just a kid. What was he going to do? Have his cronies bribe me? Kidnap me? Kill me? I didn’t know, but I knew that I needed to get out of there before I had the chance to find out. I went into my fathers room and checked his wallet and pulled out 4g’s. Under normal circumstances I would feel bad stealing from my father, but I had no time for sympathy. I could be dead in a matter of hours. On my way to the door my phone beeped. I picked it up and saw that I had at least 40 new texts. Happy birthday! 19’s the best one! See you toniteee! Hey happy birthday. Hope u enjoy the big day.”
For a brief moment I missed all of the friends that annoyed me so much. I didn’t want to be here, running away.
But it was just for a second. I turned off my phone and went out the door.
I had sort of expected there to be some resistance on my fathers part. Black limo’s parked in front of the house, helicopters, but there was none of that. Just me, a car and a long and uncertain road ahead.
More of Chandani's writing:
http://www.goodreads.com/story/list/1234...
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And you think I m Crazy?
By Janelle
My heart stopped as the gun shots sounded. I heard the body fall to the ground.
“Emma.” Alex called to me; I good hear the mock in his voice. Tears poured over the sides of my face. And I began to run away from him, I knew it wouldn’t help my feet fell hard on the floor. Sobs burned in my chest to escape.
I sat up abruptly in bed. Tears rolled down my cheeks. Two ears and I still had nightmares. Well I shouldn’t blame my self. Alex had killed my family. So of course I felt like I was always being followed. That’s what put me here, in this asylum. I had torn my self up, every shadow I saw, every whisper I heard, and all the noises of the night and day that haunted me. Even now I couldn’t shake the feeling that he knew where I was. I wasn’t entirely obsessed anymore though.
A week ago I realized I was safe and he was behind bars. The police even stopped by with tapes of him behind the iron bars. I was safe, so I went about my days silent not saying anything, just doing everything I was told to do. Whenever I went to sleep I could just plop down and fall away to nothingness easily. The ability to do this gave my mouth a sweet taste and sent tingles through my body, like victory. I had won, while he had failed.
Sitting at breakfast I bit into the pancakes sitting in front of me, amazing how they gave crazy people such yummy food. Hal, the newspaper and mailman delivery guy entered the doors to the cafeteria.
“Hello Emma!” He said cheerily to me as he dropped a newspaper in front of me.
“Hey Hal!” I answered back. “How is your wife?”
“Oh she’s fine.” Hal said smiling kindly to me.
“Great!” I smiled back. “See you tomorrow!”
“Bye!” Hal waved and left.
Still smiling I unfolded the paper. Oh man! The Cowboy’s owned the Seahawks yesterday! Man, I felt sorry for the Seahawks, I was from Seattle. Yep the economy is going down hill, stock market crashed again, huge sale at Macey’s, serial killer on the lose.
My heart stopped. Quickly I flipped to the article, a huge, and very bad picture, of Alex was staring up at. I of course started screaming bloody murder.
“No! No!” I yelled. “He’s going to get me!”
Immediately workers rushed around me restraining me and pulling me down to my chair. I felt a needle push into my skin and blackness soon followed.
Groggily my eyes opened, they seemed to be crusted shut. I groaned, my body hurt, and it was cold. My window was wide open. I tried getting up to shut it but I couldn’t move. Handcuffs chained me to the bed.
“No,” I whispered, and then I started screaming, “No! Help, help!”
A woman rushed in.
“What do you want?” she asked seeing not really anything could possibly harm me.
“Close the window.” I hissed.
“Its just letting air in. Now calm down.” She turned and left.
“Close the stupid piece of crap window! He will come! He’s watching!” I screamed out to who ever would listen. Tears started rolling down my cheeks, I had though I was over this, obviously not.
The window stayed open the rest of the day, the tears wouldn’t stop falling down my cheeks. I just waited for him to jump out with a gun, knife, or crowbar, anything to finish what he had started. Medication came and went still nothing appeared at the window. Eventually darkness crept through the curtains. A soft wind made the ugly purple things dance about. Then a soft shuffle sounded. Sitting up as much as possible I listened my heart pounding so hard it was as though it wasn’t moving, I could hear my blood pulsing through me, sweat dripped down my neck. A shape appeared at the window and a whisper.
“You can’t run away from me forever.” Then that horrible evil laugh came. My screams filled my room, tear fell from my eyes, I didn’t want to die, not yet.
The doors burst open workers crowded around me and I pointed to the window with my hand shaking like crazy. They found no one by the window, not any trace of anything they tried to convince me I had been asleep and dreamed it all. I forced myself to agree with them. Mainly because I knew he was wrong. Alex was wrong; I could run away from him forever. No matter what he said, thought or whispered through my window.
Over the next year I made myself new. I had transformed. No longer would I fall for any tricks Alex might try to throw at me. He was still lose, I would find him and show him.
More by Janelle: http://www.goodreads.com/story/list/1322...
Read stories from this contest here:http://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/86525.Contest_4_December_22_January_3rd_Done
