Reality

I’m not quite sure how it started. Or how it was supposed to end. But as reality calls, its what’s put in front of you tells the story. As far as I know, I was born back in a time when people were poor and if you weren’t a healthy baby, you were put in the basement. Some sort of meter had stuck earth and people were just dying to live. When I was born, I was healthy. But after the meter I was lost, I got sick, almost died. My mom waved a police officer she saw the window of a old building "Please help me, my baby is sick." The police officer came in and looked at me. Then told my mother "stay were you are". I was put in a wooden box in the basement, fit perfectly for a dead baby. The police came back up my mom yelled and protested "where’s my baby, what have you done with my baby." The police officer looked at her and moved on, my mom ran downstairs to find me. She ripped open the box and took me out; I was so small and helpless. As she was running up the stairs with me, the officer stood there and said, "Do you care about your future or this babies?" "The Babies." "Do you want to ruin your life for something that wont be saved?" "Yes". So she ran past them and got to the top. There was nothing that meant more then just to go. I still wasn’t concise, but she fed me cheerios. I was actually able to eat. That day we went back to my mom’s house. It was basically an old rundown basement type of place it couldn’t of been described. My mom lived with one other person, someone I never got to know. I grew up into a kid like many others, but I wasn’t like the others. I was more intelligent. One day while sitting with friend I’d known for quite some time. We were watching a show of some sort; there must have been a thousand people in the audience. Before we knew it some type of laser gun had had killed a corner section of the audience. There was children hanging half off the seats and adults cut in half. Then all of sudden a gas went over half the audience. We were told from an announcer on the stage, that this gas would make them very hungry. So we took all our food and threw it at them. Some died from starvation. The little girl next to me didn’t survive. The rest off us left, we didn’t know what to think. The next day I started school, because my mom told me it would get me far. I met lots of friends, and I always considered myself different from the others. Every year of school was with the same teacher and the same kids. So getting to know them was never an issue. We were all eager to learn. One day a boy shot a gun over at the wall. He said that his dad gave it to him he got taken away. Later the teacher found that many more students had guns. I guess because we’d never know when the next event would happen. That day the main teacher of schoolhouse came up the stairs looking for me, he didn’t recognize me, so I didn’t get taken away. They were trying to take me away because I was the kid that escaped from the basement.