Chapter 2! So I'v realized that I am most likely to update on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Sundays because that is when I have the most time.

Disclaimer

Me: "I don't know how to make this disclaimer interesting... so I'm just going to say it-"

Alex: "Carmen doesn't own Transformers!"

Me: "ALEX! That was my line! Go watch some anime or something!"

Alex: "NEVAA! Wait... that sounds like a good idea. Bye!"

Me: "...I only own my OCs..."

After about a week my friends had stopped searching for answers on Mission City. Every website and every newspaper we could find stated the same thing; a terrorist attack. Some even denied the meteors that were seen. My friends had easily gotten bored, lazy, and convinced that there was nothing more to the story.

I jumped out of my bed and unplugged my charging phone. It's Sunday so I have the whole day to do whatever I please. I walk to my closet and pick out a comfortable pair of jeans and one of my favorite shirts; yellow t-shirt with black flowers and feathers 'falling' down the front. Once I am dressed I run down the stairs, quietly of course. I'm the only one awake. I run by Coal's cage where he is noisily drinking some water, his little water dispenser clicking every time he licks it.

I reach the second flight of stairs and run down them into the basement stopping before I get to the bottom. I test the cold concrete floor with my toe to determine whether I should wear some socks or not. After deciding the concrete was safe I walked on my toes over to the storage room on the far side of the room. Once inside, I look around at the many shelves cluttering the walls with boxes, books, shoes, cloths, and pictures. Scanning the dusty objects I finally find what I was looking for. I pulled out a box labeled with my name.

I sit down on the floor cross-legged and make myself comfortable. Inside the box contains at least ten photo albums. Looking through at least eight of them I discover that they are my baby photos. Setting them aside I pick up a blue photo album with a picture of 10 year old me, Tasha, Kristy, and Alex boarding a bus that would later take us to the airport. Then we would catch a plane to Mission City. All four of us are wearing pink shorts and blue t-shirts, Kristy's hair is still in her usual pony tale. In the bus windows I see the faces of my grade 5 classmates. One boy is making a funny face at the camera.

I flip open the album to see the pictures that I had taken after Mom gave me her camera. The first pages are mostly of my friends and I making funny faces in the bus. Then there are pictures of the air port. My favorite picture is of Kristy standing on a stack of chairs in the middle of the crowded area, standing several feet taller than everyone else around her. The small red-head stuck out like a sore thumb as she held a funny pose for the camera. I let out a small laugh at the memory. Tasha and Alex had later run over to Kristy and shook the chairs causing her to crash into a near by traveler. And that started a domino effect of falling people! We were such trouble maker. Or, they were anyway. I just stuck around to witness it all.

I flip the page and come to a different scene of pictures of our class on the airplane, views out the window, and the occasional funny face from Alex. The pictures change once again to the hotel room, us eating breakfast, and finally Mission City. I had taken pictures of the class walking though crowded streets, random buildings, and museums.

Flipping the page again I stop and stare at the first picture I see. A ford Mustang police cruiser. "Why don't I remember this?" It was driving down the busy street. The picture is blurry since the car is moving but I am able to make out a funny symbol on its side and a sentence, "to punish and enslave..." "I thought it was to serve and protect?" It is a nice looking car. I don't understand how I don't remember seeing it. Flipping through more pictures I realize I don't recognize them either. They are all of buildings. One picture catches my eye and I stop flipping. I seem to have been inside of an ally looking out. It is dusty, blurry, and the image is in poor quality. I must have been moving. I can just make out the shape of a giant... thing blocking the entrance of the ally. From that picture on, the album is blank.

Slowly, I close the blue album. How could I forget that police care and that thing I seen at the end of the ally? They would both be hard to forget. I quickly grab the last photo album. This one is green with black sequins in the pattern of a flower on the cover. I flip to the first page instantly know what is going on. It is a picture of me in a hospital bed five years ago. I look tired but I am smiling. My skin is pale, my brown hair is greasy, and I have a very dark purple scare on the palm of my right hand. I glance down at my hand now, there isn't anything on my skin indicating a scare.

I close the green album and place it back in the box along with the rest of the albums before putting the box back on the dusty shelf.

Slowly shuffling upstairs to my room I suddenly get really tired. "Why don't I remember those pictures? I had to of taken them unless someone else took them for me. I don't remember giving Mom's camera to anyone, yet again I don't remember a lot of things..." It is only 8am when I get in my room, so I climb back into bed. I fall asleep the moment my head hits the pillow.

Dream:

I'm back in that ally in Mission City. Gun fire, explosions and screams fill the air as 10 year-old me huddles behind a garbage can. The ground starts to shake as a giant robot lumbers into the opening of the ally. I whip out my Mom's camera and snap a quick photo of the robot. The flash catches its attention and it turns its head my way, its red optics burning into mine. It growls and starts towards me. I shrink back behind the garbage can. The pain in my right hand increases. I clench my teeth and close my eyes to keep from screaming in pain as my hand starts to burn. I stay like this for a few minutes. I look up at the giant robot only to see that it is not there, it is now walking down the street blowing up cars, several at once. I walk to the opening of the ally and peek around the wall to watch the robot in horror. Men in army uniforms are behind a car not far from the robot, shooting at it with their guns but not doing much harm. A man on a motorcycle zooms past me in the direction of the robot. I watch in amazement as he slides off the motorcycle, between the robots legs, and shoots it with something causing it to explode.

End dream

"Holy shit!" I jolt out of bed in a cold sweat. My body is cold other than my right hand. It is burning like in my dream but not as bad. Closing my hand into a fist I take a few shaky breaths.

Hearing my door open Mom comes in. "Carmen, what's wrong?" she must have heard me yell. I look up at her, her face is full of worry. "You're awfully pale." She comes over and places her hand on my head, "You're cold too!"

I take a couple breaths, "I'm... I'm fine Mom."

"You sure?" she asks.

"Yeah. Just a really bad... dream."

"Alright. I made pancakes if you want to come and eat." She kisses my head and leaves. I look at the clock; 10am. I was asleep for two extra hours. Thinking back to the robot, the ally, my hand, and the pictures, I realize something. My dream... wasn't a dream.

Super exited, I jump out of bed, change out of my sweaty cloths, put on some socks, I run out of my room and down the stairs into the kitchen where my parents, and pancakes, wait at the table. James is gone to work and Brittney is at a friends house so it is just my parents and I home. Sitting down at the table I get my parents attention. "Mom, Dad? I need to ask you something." Dad looks up from the computer and mom from her magazine. "Can I... no. I need to go back to Mission City. I think that if I go back I will regain my memory."

My parents are silent for a moment. Dad speaks up, "Well I have the rest of the month off work. We could leave tomorrow."

Now I'm really surprised, "Really!? Ohmygod Dad!" I take a bite of my pancakes. "Do you think I could bring a friend? They could help..."

Dad thinks for a moment, "I guess so. If their parents allow them then sure."

Mom smiles, "Its Kristy, isn't it?"

She knows me too well. "Yeaaaah."

Dad claps his hands together, "Well, what are you waiting for? Go call her, or text. Whatever. Just get a hold of her because we leave at 9am!"

Running from the table, up the stairs, and into my room I yell, "OKKK!" I dive onto my bed and snatch up my phone. I dial Kristy's number and wait. One ring... two rings... three rings. "Hello?" her voice is drowsy. The crazy red-head would sleep in until 3pm if you let her.

Getting an idea on how to wake her up, I yell into the phone, "KRISTYY!" I smile and put my phone up to my ear. Bad idea.

"What the hell, Carmen!?" She yells back.

I laugh, its fun to make her mad. "Kristy! Ohmygodyouwontbelievewhathappened! MydadistakingustoMissionCity!" I finish with a deep breath. There is silence at the other end of the phone.

"Umm... what? Speak English please."

Realizing that this is actually happening I take a deep breath, "We are going back to Mission City!"

Haha I figured out how to do that line thingy! Any way I hope you enjoyed it :) Half way through typing this I clicked the exit button instead of minimize and lost everything I had just typed.. ugh. retyping things is not fun. ALWAYS SAVE. just a little tip ;) Chapter 3 is on its way! And sorry that this chapter is a little shorter :P