A/N Okay, so I got the idea for this from a commercial to a video game that I didn't even fully watch. I don't even know the name of the game. Oh, and this story was not supposed to be a fanfic, it's an original story, I just went back and edited the names from "Ariella" and "Dylan" to "Isabella" and "Edward" and I just changed phsyical descriptions. Oh, and if you see "Ari" anywhere, replace it with "Bella" and the same goes for "Dylan" and "Edward"
Three days. I've had nothing to eat for three days. How much longer could I go on like this? I could go for a while without eating, but this whole 'conservation' thing is going to be the death of me. Not that I haven't brushed with that before.
I walked, nearly falling flat on my face a couple times out of pure exhaustion, into the alley that has been my home for the past couple of days.
I quickly pulled 2 pieces of bread out of my bag, and bit into them. It had been so long since I last had the luxury of eating and it felt so good to have it slide down my throat. I could feel the strength returning to me, even as I chewed. I always gave myself a two to three day grace period where I don't eat, in a hope to conserve what food I did have. It varies depending on my levels of exertion. If, after three days, I still felt good enough to run and work, then I would wait a little longer. I was good when it came to temptation. My stomach, however, had other plans.
As I munched the bread, I let my mind wonder to how I got here in the first place...
--
Ever since the bomb destroyed my home and killed my parents back in 2510, I've been on my own. Now, 8 years later, I've learned to trust no one. My one and only companion, Anthony, had been with me for 3 years. He help me with everything. He traveled with me from place to place, gathered food, and helped me when I was hurt.
He was the perfect friend. Then he had to go and die. I trusted him with everything, my life even, and just went and died. Never again will I let anyone have such an impact on me, not in this world. No, no one in this day can be trusted.
However, I hated going at this on my own. I've come closer to death than anyone else, and all that could have been prevented if someone had helped me.
Starting with the bomb. I had just barley survived the three story jump from my room. My parents couldn't be saved, so I immediately gave up and ran, fearing for my own life. As soon as I hit the rocky ground, I could see the flames. Everything was ablaze, there was no way out. I could see the air force base crumbling to the ground. Once a figure of authority, gone in mere seconds. The planes flew above my head and I knew exactly what had happened; the Russians had finally invaded. A feat in it's own terms, seeing as how the barrier surrounding the USA was nearly impenetrable. Nearly.
The bombs were being dropped by the dozens, and I could see that it must be the same for every other location in the states; they would spare no one.
If that wasn't enough, what little hope of life for me was dashed as soon as I tried to ran; I couldn't. I couldn't even get up. When I jumped, I had landed on my feet, and the shock must have shot my legs. I fell to the ground with tears threatening to flow as I watched all I knew burn to the ground, leaving ashes in their wake. I remember thing that, just yesterday, I had gone to school, and talked to my sister, Chelsea, about how her and Chad were doing in their relationship. I would never see them again. Just yesterday, I had gone to the animal shelter to feed the dogs and cats. Now, there was probably nothing left of it to salvage. Not like I'd ever get to see it, even in ashes, ever again. I was done. All I remember is that I began to black out from the suspended pain when a single tear fell down my face as I realized the one thing that could destroy everything I know; life as I knew it, as everyone knew it, was over.
---
I remember half returning to consciousness as a pair of warm hands picked me up and ran to the nearest shelter; Anthony. He had kept whispering, "It's alright, it's going to be okay." like a mantra. I had believed him. Foolish. Stupid. I should have never done that. Believing him would end up destroying me. At the time, there was nothing else I could do though. I felt empty now, and believing was all I could do to fill the void.
I could vaguely make out gunshots nearby, but paid them no mind. I tried to ignore them. I knew one of them would take my life, so I'd rather not want to hear my death as it approached. No, that wasn't how I wanted to go.
His feet were graceful; never stopping, always gliding over the surface like it was ice. His arms felt warm, safe even. Which may have given my the false sense of security that I have come to loathe.
He carried me for what felt like hours before he brought me into an alley similar to the one I'm in now. He set me down and covered me with a blanket to keep me warm. As I fully returned to my conscious state, he asked me the normal questions; "How are you doing?" "Are you okay?" and all that. When I was done answering his, I asked my own; "Who are you?" How did you find me?" "Why did you save me?"
He told me his name, Anthony Charles, and he explained that he saw me lying unconscious as he ran away from the raging fire, so he picked me up to save my life as well as his. He said, 'How could I live with myself if I was so selfish as to value my life over another's?' Then he countered, yet again, with questions of his own, "How old are you?"
"I'm 11. What about you?"
"I'm 14. Hey, what is your name?"
"Me? I'm..." I contemplated my rules of trust, but figured that I owed him this much at least, for saving my life. "Isabella Swan. Just...call me Bella, please."
"Bella, then. Here," He said as he handed me a small bag of chips. "I stole these before..." He said with a distant look on his face. I flinched, remembering, but took the chips and started munching on them conservatively.
"So, you were a fugitive before all of this?" I asked, gesturing towards the city engulfed in flames that I used to call 'home'.
"Yeah." he said with a sheepish grin on his face. The shadows from the fire danced across his face, giving him a tan illusion. I could tell he was tan, but not that dark. His dirty blonde hair had ashes in it, and it looked very disheveled, going in all directions. "I had no other way to survive. Some people just had it good before...now, none of us do." And, as if on cue, a bomb hit the tower just north of my home. I felt a tear go down my face. I would go there all the time, just for fun. Now look at it.
He wiped the tear away, and he put a grim smile on his face, trying to cover the pain, "Don't worry. I've been here before. This isn't the first time it's happened to me. Come with me. I don't really think you'll make it on your own, and I'd be willing to share."
I just nodded, not able to think of any words.
--
3 years later: 2513
"Bella!" I heard him scream. No! No, this isn't real, this can't be happening! "RUN! GET OUT OF HERE!"
"NO!" I said through my tears. "I-I'm not leaving without you!"
"GO!" I could see frustration on his face. "If you don't then we will both die!"
Just then, a stray bullet grazed by his left cheek, making it bleed profusely wherever it made contact with his skin. "Gah!" He gasped, and clenched his teeth. He turned to me with a torn expression, and pleaded, "Bella. Please. Go! There is no hope for me, I'm stuck." It was true. He was pinned underneath the machine he had tried to re-wire. I couldn't get him out, and I had no idea what to do. "You can still live, Bella, you can. Go! While you still can, run!"
The traitor tears were streaming freely down my face as I realized the hopelessness of the situation. I had been trained not to cry, but I couldn't help it.
"Go!" I heard him scream again as I saw a bullet pierce right into his chest. I looked in the direction the shot was fired, to see a foreign soldier with his aim locked on me. I couldn't stand to be near Anthony's dying body anymore. I had to leave.
I ran as fast as my legs could carry me, even in their battered condition. Each step brought a sharp pain through my body, but I ignored it as best I could. I ran and ran, going no where, I just had to get out. I kept going until I could no longer see through the obscurity my tears presented. I began stumbling all over the place, until I finally gave up and put my back up against the wall and wrapped my arms around my knees. That wasn't the first night I cried myself to sleep, but it was by far the worst.
--
2518
It was all surreal to me at the time, but now, it is my harsh reality, and nothing else. Everyday, the fight futilely continues, and the gunshots can be heard no matter where you are. I don't even know where I am. I started out in Seattle, but now I could be anywhere, but I wouldn't know. It all looks the same now; barren, desolated, destroyed. I've come to except that this is my way of life, but that I'd much rather be dead. I'm not even sure why I fight anymore. I guess it's just instinct. I can't let my training go to waste. I'm going to live as long as this world allows me to, and no longer. I won't fight it; if I die it just means that I wasn't meant to go on anymore.
I finally got to my makeshift home, trying my best to cuddle in to warmest blanket; my only blanket would be a little more accurate, though. It was riddled through with holes like Swiss cheese, but it wasn't unbearable. I couldn't risk starting a fire now; someone would see it, and I'd be dead. It's survival of the fittest, and I won't lose out of stupidity. No, I was taught better than that.
I curled up as best I could into the blanket, which was even thinner than the jacket I had stolen a couple of years ago, that I had a few changes of clothes usually whatever I find lying around that hasn't been destroyed yet, and I put them into a small backpack that I can carry without having it get in the way. I carry my gun at all times, just in case. With good reason, as you could probably guess. I put my back to the brick wall behind me as I laid down on the rubble-like ground.
***
I was just resting, as I could never really sleep, not in these conditions. If I ever actually fell asleep, I would risk never getting up. Like this, I could rest, but, if ever threatened, I could up and leave at the drop of a hat.
I was in this state of awareness when I heard tiny, muffled footsteps coming from my right, 5 meters away, give or take.
I pulled out my gun, already cocked and loaded, and pointed in the exact direction the sound came from. My ears and eyes are very attuned to this new world, so of course I had my gun in the right area. And my eyes, even in the dark, could see everything in perfect definition. Meaning I could see that I was ready to fire at a puppy, not a soldier. I returned my gun to my pocket (it's just a small hand gun, so it fit) and motioned for the puppy to join me. He whimpered, but limped over anyway.
He was pretty small; less than a year, I would guess. This surprised me. I found it very hard to believe that any life could be conceived in this madness, but I guess it was possible.
I quickly tended to his wounds, which, again to my surprise, weren't that bad at all. After I gained his trust by doing that, he curled up next to me and quickly fell asleep. He was cute; golden fur, which lead me to believe it was a golden retriever, but his ears were erect, not falling lazily over like they should if he was such. It led me to believe that he was a mix, or maybe a husky.
I have to admit that it felt really good to not be alone anymore, and to have someone, or something, sleep next to me to keep me warm. Maybe I could keep him. He was young, I could train him. And I wouldn't be alone.
No! I couldn't think like this. I couldn't hope for something that wouldn't happen. I would wake up, and he would be gone, and I would let him go. I couldn't force him to stay here if he wanted to be elsewhere. Heck, I wanted to be elsewhere, and if I had the choice, I would leave too. I will be the first to admit that I would be seriously pissed if anyone held me against my will, so the same rules should apply for animals.
I sighed lightly as I let my chestnut-colored hair fall in my face. I managed it so that it would be long enough to obscure my face in some cases, but short enough so that I could hide it under a hat or such if needed. It wasn't barber-style, but I would do. None of the barbers were even occupied. Nothing was occupied. Desolated. Deserted. Those words are the first that come to mind when I think of this place.
I drifted back to my half sleep, but was awakened only a short while later when the sun rose. Time to get moving.
I was very nomadic; I couldn't stay in one place for longer than a week, for fear of being discovered. Anyone found alive was taken to the concentration camps created just for us. I've seen them, and I want no part of that. Even if I've given up on life, a quick death would be better than a slow and painful one.
I swiftly got up, not wanting to wake the puppy, and stretched briefly. I was thin, due to lack of food, but I was well built. I could run faster than the majority of animals I hunted, and, I'm here now, so I'm strong enough that none of them could take me down. Yet.
I pulled my hair into a ponytail and grabbed my backpack, putting my blanket into it, ready to set out. I had only gotten a couple of feet away when I heard the light shuffling of paws and a small yelp.
I turned quickly and checked to make sure that no one was around to hear. When I saw that no one was near, I whispered, "Go! Go home..." I broke off when I realized that he didn't have one. None of us did. Those of us left anyway.
He yelped again, as if he could sense the doubt in my voice. He staggered a couple inches towards me, but he ended up buckling under his own weight. He yelped once more, a cry of pain and defeat.
I couldn't help it. I gracefully stole back to where he collapsed and scooped him up into my arms.
'How could I live with myself if I was so selfish as to value my life over another's?'
His words rang through my head, and I felt my eyes sting at the memory. No, I couldn't cry now, I had to be strong.
I scooped him up and carried him to the nearby lake to clean any cuts that might not have been visible last night.
I've only been in this area for a week or so now, but I knew my way around. I really liked this lake; it was...mildly peaceful, at least. My escape, away from all the carnage.
I wet a small piece of fabric and gave him a bath, which he seemed to enjoy. When I was done with that, I ruffled his fur and gave him a piece of my bread.
As he finished, I pat his head one more time, only to see him looking up at me with eyes filled to the brim with glimmering remorse. I sighed as I stared into them. I always knew animals were more intuitive than humans. Which was why I preferred their company.
I sighed because I knew that he knew I planned to leave him. "Go..." I told him halfheartedly. He whimpered and nudged me with his nose. Gah, I was too nice for this.
After a minute or two of deliberation, I ruffled his fur again, and I could tell he felt a difference because his eyes were glimmering and his tongue rolled out of his mouth in a playful way. I laughed in playful banter as he pounced on me, licking my face. "Haha...Ew, gross!" I giggled as I shoved him off. What was I doing? Was I actually having fun? Huh. I can't even remember the last time I had fun. It seemed my frozen heart is beating again, for the first time in...I didn't even know how long.
"Maxie." I told him. "I'll call you Maxie." I said, smiling. I could feel my face grow warmer, even though it's winter here. The warmth was returning and it felt as if it had long been deprived of the feeling.
Maybe life isn't worth giving up. Not when you had something to fight for. I had that something now. You know that saying, "You don't know what you want until you have it"? Well, I knew what they meant now.
Yes, I am alive now.
--
The quote at the end....yeah, I heard that somewhere, but I can't remember where. If you haven't heard it, don't worry, it's not really important.
--Jazz