(May '16) Prompt #3 - "Exodus" [Archive] - Online Roleplaying Forum

m139

05-31-2016, 11:02 AM

Exodus
Part One of the May Series

Part 2 (http://role-player.net/forum/showthread.php?t=81253&p=2786192&viewfull=1#post2786192)

"Do you think you can now?" he asked me as we walked down the blinding white hallway.

"I can try." was my response, and that was the end of the conversation. The rest of the walk was silent. Well, at least we were silent. Around us people called as they went about their business. Heels clacked against the linoleum floor. Unseen machines beeped and buzzed. Then, we took a turn at a metal door, behind which a carpeted floor and green wallpaper replaced the tiles and painted walls.

Here, it was much more silent. A bit of music wafted out from under on one of the closed office doors. From somewhere down the hall came the ding of an elevator. And that was pretty much all the sound there was.

He opened the door to his office, and I entered the rather well sized workspace of Dr. Rednear. I took a seat in front of his new shiny mahogany desk as he went to one of the bookcases in the corner. With half my attention I watched as he pulled out a small brown shoebox and checked its contents. With the other half of my mind I prepared myself for what was soon to come. Well, I prepared myself for it as well as I was able. Which is to say, not very much.

He was coming toward me now, shoebox in hand. He placed it on the desk, and came around to the side where I was. Then, he removed from the box a small plastic Ziploc bag. Opening in, he pulled out three pictures. Or copies of pictures, really. No way they would have let him have the real ones for his personal study.

I took a deep breath as he handed them to me, closed my eyes and said a silent prayer that I would not just run off crying again when I opened them. Then, I slowly opened my eyes, and saw in picture form the image that had haunted my dreams for years now.

True, the image was not quite the same. This one was some aerial shot, while I had been there, amid the thick of things. And, this still image was missing something else as well. It was missing the sounds.

I closed my eyes once more, and the image came to life. Here was the tall silver building, which had the official name of The William F. Buendler Company Building, known to us all as Old Will. It was still standing in this picture, even glistening in the sun. In sharp contrast was the grounds below it. It was... How to start... Well, first off, there were the people... The people... Everywhere...

Oh, I can still here it now. The pounding of feet, the calling of frantic voices, the palpable fear that hung in the air. Pushing shoving, anything to get away from that building. The once carefully manicured lawn, the purple violets that had been planted only a week ago- crushed underfoot, forgotten. Everyone rushed out, pushing, shoving, shouting- a mass exodus from the building, suddenly and unexpectedly condemned.

I felt a tap on my shoulder, and I opened my eyes. He had pulled a chair around me and was sitting, looking at me, looking concerned.

"You're pale." he said, "Do you want to stop now?"

"No, no." I said, "I'm fine."

He looked at me like he did not believe me as he handed me a glass of water.

I set the pictures back on the desk, holding the glass with both hands as I took a sip. My hands, after all, were shaking. Yeah, I was not fine. But... But I would at least get something out now. I took a deep breath, placed the glass aside, and looked into his eyes. Then, I began.

"It started like any normal day. I woke up, and let my alarm clock continue ringing- well, actually, continue playing the news, since that what this particular radio station did at 6:30 AM in the morning. The news was just like that of any ordinary day: there was no indication that any of the... the... things that happened could have happened. Just the normal squibble squabble of politics, the little incidents- well the incidents that seemed little at the time- happening in far off countries. As you may know, and as all of us though then, nothing bad could ever happen to us. We were on the other side of the world, for goodness sakes!'

"Unfortunately, that sentiment, although a nice one to have, is not exactly entirely true. Although we are on the other side of the world, things that happen there affect us, too."

Here I paused, and looked at the man who sat across from me, taping everything I had said. He must have known I was stalling- talking about the event as it actually happened was always hard for me, for it was still, though years had passed, as fresh as if it had happened only a few hours ago. But when I looked into his eyes, I did not see any impatience, as I had seen in the eyes of so many others who had wanted to hear my story. Instead, I saw only kindness, and, could it be? Pity. For a moment, I wondered what it was for? Was it for me? Or was it for the whole event, and everyone involved?

At this moment, it did not really matter. But it was nice to have someone show concern, for a change. It was nice to have someone not study me as some sort of historical relic. It was nice to have someone remember the personhood of those involved in this terrible tragedy.

But I am still stalling, aren't I? I suppose... I suppose I must continue sometime. And now, to this man... Well, he is better than the others. Perhaps he can make good use of this story? The picture of the exodus of all those from that building is only part of the story. And the whole story must be made known. I cleared my throat, and resumed my narrative.