The Incident

2^nd January 2013

I did it. I survived 2012. I don’t know what happened. All I know is that I’m now under a huge dome, and there are these horrible men everywhere, trying to tell us that we can’t escape, and that we must stay here till we die. My dad did. I’m not sure what happened to my mum. I have this book, and I have to make sure it’s not confiscated or found by the men. They say they are different. They say that their DNA is all weird and that they are different from us. No-one believes them with that. No-one but me. I only do because they act differently. They don’t feel right somehow, like they don’t belong here. May says that they are aliens and somehow I believe her. Only five of us survived. There was this huge crash and I saw my dad get crushed by the biggest piece of metal I have ever seen. I buried my face in my hands and prayed that I would survive. I did, but now I’m trapped. I don’t know how I did, or what happened to everyone else. All I know is that I’m trapped and that dad is dead, and that mum might have escaped and that I’m surrounded by Aliens. I’m scared. May God save us.

 

I looked up, making sure I was not being watched by the Aliens. I shoved the leather bound book back into my pocket. It was a gift from my Dad. I don’t know how it survived the crash of 2012, but it did. I brushed my long, curled brown hair out of my face, away from the strange dusty wind blowing around us, despite that we were trapped in this village. May was stood beside me, holding my hand. I turned around to see her face stained with tears, which would scar her for life. Her red hair was a tangled mess, blowing in the wind like fire, dusting my shoulder. I had the urge to brush it off, but I didn’t.

“Why were you writing Becca?” she asked. I sent her an evil, meaningful glare, hoping she’d get the message. She nodded and turned away, covering it up gently, smoothly. The Aliens would never notice. Ross was stood with his back to us, to the Aliens, eyes closed, breathing in the heavy scent of our prison. His hair was tangled also, but he didn’t have tear tracks. His hands were in fists at his sides and I could tell that he wanted revenge. The Aliens continued talking in their strange accent, “Stay here. Stay. No food. Survive. No. Goodbye now. Stay here.” It was plain to see that they could speak little English. They walked away, muttering in their language, which was a continuous flow of tongue-lashing and spitting. To be honest, I wasn’t considering going near them. Firstly, they were my capturers, secondly, they killed my Dad and possibly Mum as well and thirdly, I’d come away with their drool all down my top.

 

3^rd January 2013

They left us. I don’t know how they got out of the dome, out of this village. I guess we have to survive for as long as we can now. Me, May, Ross, Tegan and Leo. I’m scared, more than yesterday. I slept in a half-collapsed house, absolutely frozen, and Tegan has gone to get some food. I don’t know how much supply we will have, but still. I just found my house key in my pocket. Not much use now though. My phone is smashed to pieces and I have a huge cut down my arm (it’s healed now) where it jabbed me a few days ago, when… when it all happened. You know, I have never been hesitant in writing before, but now, I just keep peering round, hiding underneath duvets and swapping places every thirty seconds. I am unbelievably worried that they’ll catch me. Not the other four of course, in fact I’m not worried if they see me. It’s the Aliens I’m freaked out by. I’m not sure why I use a capital letter for them either. Probably because they have so much control over my life already. So much that I have become attached to thinking that they are superior, to me, to my race. What am I thinking? I’ll be off. Tegan’s back, with bread and eggs. Let’s just hope there’s a cooker round here that actually works!

 

I shoved my book in the nearest small, hidden space; the gap between the skirting board and the wall, where it had come off slightly, making it the prefect place to tuck something small. Even I couldn’t see it. I would have to hammer it into my brain to make sure I got it back and didn’t fall into the hands of people I don’t want it to. Leo wandered up, hands deep in pockets, swaggering slightly. He fell over and I had to stifle a hysteric giggle that was about to emerge from my mouth. I pressed it hard shut, my eyes watering with the effort of not wanting to laugh at him. He got up, flustered and confused. I took a deep breath and composed myself, grabbing some bread and jam for breakfast, before having my hand slapped by Ross, “Don’t use it all up! We need to make it last! Greedy pig! Don’t you understand? We’re stuck. Five teenagers who survived the 2012 crash. You complete and utter idiot!” I was quite offended, but chose not to answer. The whole world was in silence apart from the weird wind and the sound of Leo snorting his food down his throat. And Ross had called me greedy! Pha! Easily deniable.

 

I couldn’t remember a thing about my past life, or what had happened. My mind was fading, blurring into nothing. I could only picture my Dad’s death and my Mum’s face. The fear of the Aliens was growing among us, May squirming or flinching every time I said the word Alien. We had all taken to calling them that. The accident of 2012 was nothing compared to what we thought was coming; would they kill us? Experiment on us? I was petrified every time they came in to check that we were still there, and every time they left saying the same thing, “Schvakniel scrak eshkapnow. Vow haks pwerow niow.” We didn’t understand a word, but the words were etched into our brains, bugging us, confusing us. I tried to let them form human words in my mind, let them take the form of an understandable sentence, but no, why would they? They were Aliens after all; they wouldn’t let us understand something only they could, for it may be a secret to their kind. But why would it be, seeing as we were now a mixed group?

 

5^th January 2013

May’s out somewhere, Ross is silent all the time and Leo never utters a word. Silence has broken through our fear. None of us want to speak a word of our memories of 2012, but we should. I think we should because we will be able to piece something together about the Aliens, about how to survive, and about what they have done to the world that I can’t remember. This is one confusing story, reader, if any survived to read this, but it’s my life, and I must live it and understand.

 

My name is Becca Richardson. I am the daughter of a ferocious gypsy woman who fell in love with an accountant. I was a mistake, an accident. They never wanted me to exist. My Mum ran away, and I have only seen her once in the past two years, and that was last week, three days before the accident. I was a member of Longfield Comprehensive, a quiet, basically unknown pupil. I won nothing. I spoke only to May, my closest friend. I was basically invisible.

 

Now I am living in fear of dying. In fear of existing, but I need to understand. I need to know what happened in 2012 that I can’t remember. Maybe putting my memories on paper will help.

 

I was walking home from school with May, as a normal schoolgirl would. I looked up in the sky, which I did every evening, to see if I could spot first stars. Then everything went black. I can only remember the screaming, and my Dad’s face, full of pain, which he was trying to hide from me. I only have his photograph in my locket left. Then, my memories fade. I can’t seem to fit the pieces together. I have the image of my Mother ion my head now, a dark, curly-haired woman who I barely saw, her hair dancing with braids and necklaces resting on her sash. I also have a photo of her in my locket, but it is folded, and very hard to see. The ink is splashed, the photo ripped and blurred. I haven’t unfolded it in a year, since my Dad told me what had happened when I was born, the row, that she’d run away and not died. I didn’t have the guts to look into her hazel eyes again, whether they were in a photograph or not. After the incident of 2012, my mind becomes clearer again, and I see Ross, his fists clenched, and May, her tears and firey hair. I barely know Tegan, Leo and Ross, but somehow they play such an important role in my life already. I don’t understand why they don’t share their memories. We could piece this puzzle together, but we can’t.

 

I slammed my book shut, my eyes watering at the thought of my Dad. They spilt over and I wiped my eyes, smudging the grime on my face around a bit. There are no showers here, so we have to make do with a broken down pump. Ashes lay everywhere, matting my hair and covering my face, crusting my eyelashes. I clutched onto my memories, determined to uncover them. I had the urge to get my Mum’s picture out, but I knew that if I did, I would never stop crying. I would cry till I died. I tucked my book back into the crack in the skirting board, covering it up, smoothly like May did her outbursts. I curled up and fell asleep.

 

Opening my eyes gently, I peered around, taking in the broken down house: The bed was collapsed, its sheets wrapped around me; the wardrobe was basically a splintered mess, and the roof was half caved in. The rest of the room was in tatters, clothes spilt onto the floor, books dotted on the bed and stacked messily in the corners, the only place that the crash hadn’t affected. I rolled over, moaning, and got up. Brushing myself down, I wandered down to the water pump, splashing myself with water and drinking as much as I dared, having to save as much as I could. I decided that I would walk to the edge of the dome that day.

 

My hands were pressed up against the glass, my breath steaming it up. My eyes however, were wide and slightly idiosyncratic. The world outside the dome was alien to me, completely different and very worrying. It looked like a wasteland, broken stumps, sandy floor, and a dust wind rolling along the ground, seeping into our enclosure. I didn’t know whether to scream, to squeal, to faint, or what to do at all. There was an edge to the world.