Categories > Original > Fantasy > What Lies Behind the Mask
When my alarm went off not even four hours after I had faceplanted into my grey covers, I rolled onto my back with a long groan. I have got to fix my sleep schedule. I thought, reaching over to silence my phone. 5:30 a.m. Way too early to be doing anything. Alas, as tired as I was, I wasn't going to go and get myself fired for being late or not showing up altogether, which was something I debated in my head. Even if I did only work at a diner. Sitting up, raw, sore pain raked through my body in waves. My lungs still burned faintly from that seven mile sprint we did yesterday. Again, however, I wasn't trying to get fired.
I swung my feet over the edge of my bed and stood, forcing my body to move. I had been through this enough times to know that movement would aid in my act of recovery. Pain, force, and then before I knew it, I'd be back to normal. Until I went back out and ruined all the work I had spent weeks doing. One hot shower and fifteen minutes of dressing later, I stood at my front door, slipping into my coat, securely wrapping a scarf around my neck. A buzzing in my pocket drew me to the local news app, ABC News Alerts. Skimming over it with a sly smile had my blood running hot.
According to the website, an investigation took place last night. Nothing from the smitherens of the bank was salvegable and the two bank attendents there during our robbery were in the hopspital under critical condition. To be honest, I hadn't meant for them to get hurt and, believe or not, hearing about the conditions of the two sent a twisting to my stomach. Their loved ones were probably worried sick. A mother. A father. A sister or brother. Maybe a friend or two. Cousins and other reletives all waiting in silence for good news. Bracing for bad news. Waiting and waiting for what was probably hours on end.
Suddenly, I didn't feel like reading the alert all too much anymore. A flash of a white room and soft beeping filled my head. St. Anderson Hospital. The only one in the city big enough to house the whole city. I wish I didn't reoccuring memories about it. What happened in December 2032 needed to stay in December 2032. I slid my phone away and stepepd out the door. The morning air grew colder with every step I took to my white Carola. A heavy weight settling on my shoulders and chest. I could feel a steady grumble in my stomach. Shit. Breakfast. I knew I should've stopped to get something from Starbucks or maybe Target, but I carried on, rolling right past any exits that would prevent later headaches and fatigue.
It was days like this I always thought the most. Usually I acted without much thought. Said the first things to come to my head without consideration to possible consequences. Tristan knew this about me best. He really was the only one I could truly count on to keep my thoughts and feelings safe from others. Sometimes I wonder why I even started this criminal stuff in the first place. I have a stable job, a good friend to check up on me, a nice aprtment, and a decent bank account. Why am I putting all of that in jeporady?
"Don't forget us." Her voice echoed through my head. "Don't forget our faces. The sounds of our screams and cries. Make them pay."
I gave a silent nod, pulling up to the diner. I haven't forgotten my promise, mama. I haven't forgotten.
I swung my feet over the edge of my bed and stood, forcing my body to move. I had been through this enough times to know that movement would aid in my act of recovery. Pain, force, and then before I knew it, I'd be back to normal. Until I went back out and ruined all the work I had spent weeks doing. One hot shower and fifteen minutes of dressing later, I stood at my front door, slipping into my coat, securely wrapping a scarf around my neck. A buzzing in my pocket drew me to the local news app, ABC News Alerts. Skimming over it with a sly smile had my blood running hot.
According to the website, an investigation took place last night. Nothing from the smitherens of the bank was salvegable and the two bank attendents there during our robbery were in the hopspital under critical condition. To be honest, I hadn't meant for them to get hurt and, believe or not, hearing about the conditions of the two sent a twisting to my stomach. Their loved ones were probably worried sick. A mother. A father. A sister or brother. Maybe a friend or two. Cousins and other reletives all waiting in silence for good news. Bracing for bad news. Waiting and waiting for what was probably hours on end.
Suddenly, I didn't feel like reading the alert all too much anymore. A flash of a white room and soft beeping filled my head. St. Anderson Hospital. The only one in the city big enough to house the whole city. I wish I didn't reoccuring memories about it. What happened in December 2032 needed to stay in December 2032. I slid my phone away and stepepd out the door. The morning air grew colder with every step I took to my white Carola. A heavy weight settling on my shoulders and chest. I could feel a steady grumble in my stomach. Shit. Breakfast. I knew I should've stopped to get something from Starbucks or maybe Target, but I carried on, rolling right past any exits that would prevent later headaches and fatigue.
It was days like this I always thought the most. Usually I acted without much thought. Said the first things to come to my head without consideration to possible consequences. Tristan knew this about me best. He really was the only one I could truly count on to keep my thoughts and feelings safe from others. Sometimes I wonder why I even started this criminal stuff in the first place. I have a stable job, a good friend to check up on me, a nice aprtment, and a decent bank account. Why am I putting all of that in jeporady?
"Don't forget us." Her voice echoed through my head. "Don't forget our faces. The sounds of our screams and cries. Make them pay."
I gave a silent nod, pulling up to the diner. I haven't forgotten my promise, mama. I haven't forgotten.
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