The War of the Worlds

#Dudu

It came the evening of the first falling star. It was seen early in the morning, a line of fire in the twilight sky. Hundreds must have seen it and mistaken it for a usual shooting star. Someone described it as leaving a greenish streak behind it that glowed for some seconds. Denning, our greatest authority on meteorites, stated that its first height of appearance was about ninety or one hundred miles. It seemed to him that it fell one hundred miles east of him.

Early in the morning, poor Ogilvy, a scientist I had the fortune to meet, set out in the hope of finding it. Find it, he did, soon after dawn, and not too far from the sandpits. An enormous hole had been formed, and sand and gravel had been flung in every direction, forming piles visible from multiple miles away. Eastwards, the heather was on fire, leaving a blue-grey smoke rising against the dawn.

The Thing, alone, was half-buried in sand amidst the scattered splinters of a fir tree it had shattered in its descent. It had attracted a crowd, a noisy one, complaining about their restless night. But something else had caught their attention.

The Thing was smoking, making that nearest cough. The smoke was now pouring out the sides in vast amounts, clouding the environment with smoke and coughing people. The smoke cleared, allowing everyone to breathe, as part of the rusting surface of The Thing crumbled, revealing a ball, a perfect sphere of foreign material. No one dared to move. The air was thick with tension as the action unfolded before them. As time ticked by, a man with the courage cautiously rose from his seat. The police protested, but he ignored them as if drawn by a trance to the ball. He gingerly reached out and touched it. A dark, tar-like liquid came away on his hand. He looked at the hand and away again, but when he saw the ball again, he saw something terrible. A blurred image of himself was imprinted on the sphere, and he stared confusedly at the sphere as the rest of the rusted surface crumbled away.

The Thing span, rising as deep fractures appeared in the ground. Everyone leaned away, protecting their lives as the Thing emitted a terrible shriek. The Thing span while disintegrating, and when the man looked at his sleeve, he found a rush of white fire taking over his shirt, almost annihilating it, as he burst into fire. I watched, as all those I love and value were consumed by fire as the Thing disintegrated, the ashes of the remains drifting down into the crater.

#Bai

Would it form again? What was that thing? The talk of the Thing erupted through newspapers and magazines; all of the scientists came up with theories, ranging from the ridiculous to the more sensible. No one dared to touch the Thing, a curse, ready to pulverize anybody in its wrath. To all the other’s disbelief, a few dozen shooting stars erupted down, but we, planet Earth, were ready.

Guns were passed around, and all aimed at the gun and the air was quiet, the Thing like a lethal serpent, ready to bite. A few men raised their guns and aimed at the spherical ball, wanting to destroy it. Their faces were carved on the strange object. No one dared to move.    “Don’t explode. Don’t explode,” many prayed, under their breath, but explode it did, and so those were the last words the unfortunate young men said.

As more and more attacks went by, tactics were formed. “We could make a shield!” scientists proclaimed, “What is fire most scared of? Water!”

Yet, none of these ideas worked, for these fireballs were nothing like what we see on Earth.

#Yao

Panic was over the town. Right now, I was trying to keep the Thing under control, my policeman revolver clocking out rounds by the second. But the beast just took in all of our bullets, as if our bullets had become merged into its deformed image.

After the attack, I tried desperately to locate my friend, a young gentleman named Brie. He had quite the moustache and was also a sergeant in the London police force.

I found him days after the attack, sitting in his garden.

” ‘Ello Brie! Glad you survived, I am!” I said. We were both in our Saturday Patrol uniforms.

“You too, Christopher,” he said, absentmindedly.

Then, he told me to sit down by the chairs beside his lovely row of tulips.

“Where were you? I looked!” I said, alluding to the day the Thing had attacked.

“I was running away. Didn’t have no weapon!” he answered. “Have you heard of all of the tactics those fancy old science birds have developed? A shield of water? Pah! A supersonic ray gun that will be able to blast it back to whichever damn planet that it came from? Ridiculous!”

“Brie, I don’t. My telegram’s broken. I’m getting it fixed, though,” I answered.

“Mary, fetch my telegram!” he cried into his house.

A few minutes later, we were listening to the latest broadcasts.

“And now, Larry, please explain to us what happened on that dreadful day…”

“Please continue, Sarah, what was your reaction to the fire?”

Soon, we both got bored. Then, a broadcast came on that caught my attention.

“This is Ronald Joblisnky, and if you are a London constable, this information will be useful to you. The Chief of the London Police has announced that he will be organizing a meeting for all of the officers in London, this afternoon at 3…”

“Did you hear that?” I asked, taking off my hat and coat because of the heat.

“Yes. But we have time. Stay for dinner! I’m sure you’ll enjoy it!”

I looked at my watch. 12:47. I didn’t fancy staying, but I went in with him once I imagined my simple dinner of bangers and mash.

After a dinner of roast lamb and kidney and steak pie, we set off. We were to take all of our accessories.

“Why does the Chief want us to have our firearms? It’s not like we’d have to even shoot them,” Brie remarked.

I didn’t know, so I didn’t say anything.

After a few minutes of walking, we reached the place we were supposed to be at. There was a crowd of policemen all crowded around the liquor bar.

“Hello, boys,” came a voice. A rather wide man wearing a black suit came in. He was the Chief, and four guards armed with truncheons and Winchesters followed.

“Sir, why are we here, sir?”

“Ah, most of you probably want the answer. Well, as most of you know, there is a beast on the loose. It could be anywhere now. Your job is to search the country, locate it, and kill it! But you will need much more than just the regular bullet. In the armoury, you will find alien-killing energy packs. Attach one pack into each chamber of your gun, and you will be all set. Your truncheons will be wiped in anti-alien acid,” he said, smashing his fists down on the nearby table, making a little strawberry shortcake fall to the ground.

“Armory?” someone muttered. The Chief pushed a lever, and we all fell in a heap into a large room that had boxes and boxes full of little curious things that looked like bullets but had some sort of liquid in the middle. Then, we spotted the various guns that were on the wall. We were all young, naive, police officers, and we rushed towards the guns, grabbing the biggest ones.

“Choose your pick,” the Chief said. First, I dipped my club into a barrel marked ACID and let it cool. Then, I stored up all of the energy packs I could find. Next, I grabbed a long bolt-action rifle and put five energy packs into its chamber. I kept my revolver.

When we were all finished, the Chief led us out to the stables, where we were all given horses fit for country races.

Two days later, Brie and a woman named Jane were all heading for the place where the alien was last seen. Jane was telling us about a friend of hers named Ogilvy. Jane had been sent because of her very brainy head and excellent grades in forensic science.

#Dudu

The Thing had re-incarnated, as you might call it, into another ball. This time, however, no-one dared touch it, as the survivors valued their lives. As the Thing started smoking and the rocky exterior started to crumble, three metallic legs reached out of the Thing, at first covered in the tarry, black substance, then drying into a hardened armour. Instead of disintegrating completely, the Thing just decomposed in some parts, turning the shape into a blackish manta ray. As the former ‘Thing’ rose, I was reminded of a foal rising on its legs for the first time. However, this foal was not quite so sweet.

Word spread around the newspaper, but nobody was there to read it. Everyone had scattered, like the sand and gravel when Ogilvy had first found The Thing. Everyone was fleeing, as they were terrified of the Tripods.

And they should be. If anyone had the nerve to return home… long story short, they couldn’t. Their home was destroyed, all taken over by the indestructible fire. Their home was obliterated, all in ashes or still burning. I was one of the few who stayed, refusing to flee like a coward, but as the second wave struck us, I saw their logic. The few who stayed, including me, began to scatter, but when the third wave surged over us, we were stopped in our tracks, the journey made impossible by the fire and smoke.

#Bai

Christopher and I were ready, armed with our acid clubs, energy packs, long bolt-action rifle with energy packs (I had a record number of 15, 5 in my packs, 10 ready to be loaded), ready to defeat the monster which had miraculously made its way to Earth. But where was this “beast”? What did it look like? How would we hunt it down?  The first step would be to find the monster, but how?

Christopher and I stared into each other blankly as we ‘discussed’ what to do. Well, there was a lot of racking our brains when Christopher suggested, “Brie, why don’t we start from where the Tripods landed? We can work our way from there?”                                                                         It seemed like a decent idea and headed off in that direction, with Jane walking alongside us. Just arriving at the place made me shiver in place. This place, a graveyard, was where many people had died, burned to death with the ferocious, merciless Tripods, who had disintegrated. As we neared the place where the ruthless foreigners had arrived, the crunching gravel, like the noise of bones shook me apart, accelerating the already rampant pounding of my heart. Firing a warning shot into the air, a boy, around ten, trekking in the rough gravel. “What are you doing here?” asked Jane.

“I, I… came… here… because… I… saw…you…and…wanted…to…follow…you…” stuttered the boy.

“You shouldn’t have come here, you know?”                               However, the boy had reached for a piece of black dust, just one small bit, like soot. As if on cue, the ground exploded, wounding Jane, Christopher, and I. A staggering pain erupted through my leg, working its way up to my chest. However, the boy had disappeared into the midst, adding one more to the infinite amount of fatalities. “ Well, this seems creepy, “ whispered Jane, as we pulled ourselves up, shook our dusted uniforms, and carried on walking. However, when the sun relinquished itself tonight, there was still no trace of the Tripods.

#Yao

It was a bright night as I slowly drifted off to sleep.

I was awoken when Brie shook me so violently I crumpled to the ground from the tree I was using.

“Can’t sleep if you keep knocking me up!” I groaned, sitting up.

“Jane’s gone. Left without a trace!” he said.

“Huh? Oh, she did? Then why? Did she take something from your pack? A rifle, maybe?”

“Uh, let’s see. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, … 13, 14. Yep, one’s missing. She took five packs too. That’s about fifty shots of laser,” Brie muttered.

“Don’t know why we brought her. Let’s go check. Maybe she’s still in the perimeter,” I said.

As I turned, I ran smack into a girl.

“Jane! What were you thinking, running off like that!” Brie scolded.

“You woke me up, too,” I mumbled.

“You sound just like my mom,” she groaned. Her dress was torn, probably from branches. Her hair was all mixed up, with mud on one side of her face smudged with mud and dirt.

“Explain yourself at once!” Brie said.

“Okay okay. Oh, and I lost that rifle, in case you were wondering. Anyway, I thought you two slumbering baboons weren’t capable of hunting down the beast, because you were sleeping. So, I ventured off on my own, and accidentally ran into a wolf, shot at it a few times, discarded the magazines, and then, well, yeah. You know, I was brave?”

“You are brave but RECKLESS! You could’ve gotten yourself killed,” Brie yelled.

Jane ignored us. I was getting pretty irritated myself.

“How old are you? I’m pretty sure you’re younger than me, and yet you call me a baboon!” I said. Brie and I were both 21.

“I’m 21,” she muttered.

#Dudu

As soon as the words left my mouth, Christopher and Brie stared at me. They looked at me, then at each other, and opened their mouths to speak, but no words came out of them. Finally, Brie scowled and muttered, “Let’s go.” and turned away and started walking through the ashes and soot, kicking up embers as he went. Christopher glanced at me, shrugged, and sprinted after him, his strides falling into Brie’s scuffled footprints. I gazed sadly at the footprints, the anger churning up inside me crushed by the growing disappointment. When I looked up, I saw Brie and Christopher standing, two tiny dots on the horizon, waiting for me. I ran after them, desperate to prove I was a good companion.

I bet if a Tripod saw us, we would be eliminated from the face of the world. A ragged, hungry, and weak threesome, trudging along the shore of the beach. I remember when the beach was a great place, the toasted white sand, and the azure sea. But the only difference between life and death was that a Tripod didn’t see us. I should’ve been grateful, but instead, I was too hungry and tired to care. But as we plodded along the shore, something saw us. Something that meant doom and death.

#Bai

How could she? I had thought Jane would be the least of our worries. As we entered, sweat rose from my face, and embers were scattered in front of us. Embers on the beach? With water around it? “What happened here?” I asked.

“Nothing good,” Christopher confirmed my worst fears. The Tripods had been here.

                Bang! A missile exploded out, creating a massive crater, about the size of a truck. A perfectly sphere ball rose slamming things at us. Jane threw me her rifle, and I loaded them with 5 packs. “Everyone gets down…” Christopher’s hoarse voice was minimized under the howl of the firestorm. One pack has gone already, and no visible damage to the large ball of fire. However, it seemed the action diminished until nothing remained. Did we just hunt it down? Could we have just defeated the Tripods? However, the answer came, as each of the Tripods multiplied into two. “We need to take shelter immediately!” Rushing for dear life, a cave somehow appeared before me, and I hurried in—nothing but stone, stone, and stone. Discussing what we would do, a fireball rushed in on me, and I saw I bright colour of red, nearing me, but fortunately not hitting me.

“Whew!” I exclaimed, “Gotta be careful.” However, a few minutes later, the Tripods flew into the water, not to be seen again. As the sun relinquished itself tonight, the sky was dotted with patches of orange. The second day over already, and we still have nothing to show for it, apart from the fact that each Tripod would split into two after being defeated.

“There must be a way where we can defeat the Tripods.” Jane proclaimed.

“We can’t even get close, let alone attack. Our rifles do no apparent damage to the Tripods, as they just re-incarnate into two more.” I protested.

“What about our batons?” Christopher asked.

“Remember, we can’t get close. We’ll be burnt by the fire.”

Suddenly, a voice started cracking in my bag, followed by a static sound. “This is Chief. Any sign of the monster?”

“Yes sir, but the Tripod disintegrated and turned into two more when we tried to shoot it, sir.”

“Where did the two go?”

“Sir, the two Tripods managed to escape into the ocean, sir.”

“Where are you anyway, on the beach?”

“Sir, We found traces of the Tripods leading here, sir.”

“Good. Chief out.” Was followed by some static sounds of radio until I turned it off. Still, by morning, there was no sign of the Tripods.

#Yao

“Chief out,” the radio crackled. I slowly turned around.

“What’s he going t-t-to do?” I asked with a slight stutter and my childhood Scottish accent. My father was Scottish.

“Don’t know. But it’s not going to be pleasant. Come on. If he’s going to blow the stuff up, better not be there,” Brie said. He slung his rifle over his jacket and walked out. He dumped about ten of the rifles and covered them with flames.

“What’d you do that for?” Jane asked. We acted like she wasn’t even participating in this hunt. She might as well be happy she wasn’t a participant. “Uh, anyone?” she tried again.

“Does anybody hear a cat of sorts?” I asked. Brie smiled wearily.

“Fine. I see what little game you’re playing. Just quit it!” she yelled in such a robust voice I was blown back.

“Alright. Just come on, then,” I grumbled. She trudged on.

Soon, we were stuck in a marsh. The Chief suddenly radioed in.

“We haven’t located the beast. Chief out,” came to the simple message. We all groaned. Jane sat down, her skirt rumpled with mud. It was a gruelling march, and no woman could have completed it all in one go with a skirt on. We gave her some rations which she ate. But she was quite tough; she endured half of it without a peep. I sat down to clean my rifle. Brie had left only five rifles with a lot of packs. Two of the rifles had clogged up with mud, and more than half of the packs had rusted down. I gave one rifle and ten packs to Jane, who accepted it.

“C’mon. It’s time to go. Jane, Christopher, come on!” Brie urged. We both groaned in unison.

“Can’t we rest, Brie?” I muttered. Brie shook his head.

“It’s important we go, since-” he began to say. Suddenly, his arm lit up with flames, and he cried a yell of pain.

“Brie!” I yelled but noticed one Tripod closing in, spinning its flammable weapons out. I dragged Brie with his burnt arm back to a bush, with Jane running behind.

“Quick, I know how to administer first-aid. I’m not a total tom-boy. Mother’s pretty formal and everything, so, go and fight!” she yelled as I rose. I grabbed my rifle and ran off to face the beast. I jammed in a round and fired multiple times, energy bursts everywhere. Suddenly, I was hit by the recoil of my gun, and I staggered backwards before the world went black.

#Dudu

I gasped at Brie’s arm when the indestructible fire died away. It was almost completely black, nothing like a burn down here on earth. Nothing here down on earth would heal that burn. But as I put a smear of burn ointment on it, the black surface, the layer just crumbled into pieces too small to be described as an object. But as there is always a new layer of hope beneath what seems like hopeless doom. Just like now. When the black exterior disintegrated into nothingness, a layer of baby pink skin appeared below. But all that hope vanished when I heard the thud of something heavy hitting the ground. I turned around, dreading the moment when I saw what lay half-buried in the sand.

Sure enough, I saw Christopher, unconscious, with a damp patch on his side. It was slowly taking over his shirt, and soaking into the sand/gravel, like sherry soaking into sponge cake. Brie shouldered me besides, snapping me back to awareness.  He glanced at Christopher and murmured, ‘What happened to you, buddy?’ and looked at me, his piercing grey stare full of pain. ‘We better hide him. Can’t let the dogs get to him,’ But he was interrupted by a moan from Christopher. As we exchanged glances, me and Brie I, we felt a small spark of hope blossoming inside us.

#Bai

(Do any of you know what will happen in the ending, e.g. How will we destroy the Tripods?)

It was getting slightly suspicious, that after around a week of hunting, there was nothing, not even a single speck of dust, that would lead us to what the Tripods were doing, or where they were. But that changed the next Monday when a Tripod finally came into view. Chief had called in at that right moment, which caused havoc among us. “Chief calling. What is your position?”
“Well, sir, we are currently fighting a Tripod.” I managed to mutter, just over the sounds of a screeching cat and an explosion about ten feet away.

“God. That was loud. Any sign of the king of the Tripods?”

“Well, you see, sir, this isn’t the perfect time to talk. Maybe call me later.”

“Fine, constable. But you had better call later, or you will suffer.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Good. Chief out.”

As I lifted my rifle for the second time, ready to smash the Tripod into the middle of next Wednesday when its body began to turn and rushed behind itself. Jane laughed. “Ha! This is the only time I have seen a Tripod run away from me.”

But yet it hadn’t, for at least ten more came out, showering fireballs all over us, like rain, but it was never-ending and indestructible. What could we do? Well, the answer lies in how to destroy the Tripods. We couldn’t use the techniques of the daft scientists, but was there another method?

There could be no way there would be any other methods, right? Apart from blasting them to death, and having them re-incarnate? It sounded suspicious. Life was always supposed to die out, right. That was what we thought. Yes, what we thought. We never knew the Tripods existed before a few days ago. Maybe there is no method of how to kill the Tripods. Maybe, eventually, all of us will die, die from the ferocious, deadly Tripods. Maybe…

“Brie, any plans?”

“Well, we have to find a way to kill the Tripods.”

“Obviously, but how?”

Chief radioed in at that moment, and we all groaned. So annoying. “Any more information, constable?”

“No, sir. I was just burnt by the Tripods. Christopher was knocked unconscious. We are all recuperating.”

“Ok. Just saying. James and Kevin, in the other group, have located the Trifors.”

“Tripods, sir.”

“Whatever. Anyway, Kevin is currently seriously injured. You have to operate on him right now.”

“Where is he.”

“Coordinate 493829. Chief out.”

We all stared at Jane, assuming she had brought a map. But she just stared back. What were we to do? There was a man who needed our help, and we had no idea how to find him.

#Yao

The Chief finally gave us a jolly good mission, and it was all ruined because we had forgotten a map! Unacceptable.

“Okay. Maybe we can get to this Kevin without using a map,” I offered. Brie just shook his head.

“And how will we do that?” Jane put out.

“Hot air balloon,” I muttered so quietly nobody could hear it.

“Wot’s that?” Christ asked.

“Hot air balloon. Over there. There’s a tavern, right over there. Next to it is a hot air balloon!” I said, getting louder, and more excited.

Jane smiled. Christ, on the other hand, grumbled.

“What’s the matter?” I asked.

“Er, nothing,” he said quickly.

We all ran up to the hot air balloon, and I climbed up. I hoisted Brie up since he was shorter than me, and Jane managed to jump up.

“Hey!! What’s you doing up there?” a middle-aged man yelled as he moved towards us. He seemed to be the owner of the tavern.

“Oh. Is this yours?” I asked, taking out my wallet.

“No, but it belongs to a man farther in the woods. Nice man. Lets me take it up for a ride every once in a while,” he said. I threw a precious 1-pound note at him.

“Give this to the man. We’re taking this old thing for a ride!” I yelled as Jane snipped the ropes with her dagger. The balloon sailed up, up, up. Christopher was crouching.

“Why are you hiding?” Jane asked as Christopher closed his eyes.

“I’m scared of heights,” he said without opening his eyes. I rolled my eyes as Jane chuckled. Christopher sulked in the corner.

“Look! There’s the man Kevin! And his friend’s waving his shirt at us! Down we go!” I yelled as I threw the bags over the basket.

#Dudu

I turned around, expecting to see Brie, but in his place, I saw a pile of bags, and he was gone. I spun around again, trying to seek out Christopher, but he was still there, balled up tightly while moaning softly. Then I heard a faint cry of, ‘Jane! Chris! Over here!’ I turned and sprinted over to the direction of the cry, glancing back at Christopher as I went. As I got closer, I saw a few dots on the horizon, but as I got closer again, the features of the ‘dots’ became clearer, and I could make out three figures, one lying down on the ground, and two figures bending over the apparently dead figure, shaking and slapping him, doing everything to arouse him. When I got there, I was hopeless. I bent down and put my ear to his chest. I was expecting to hear a steady beat, which meant he was well, just shaken by his wounds, but instead I found a sound resembling a trapped bird, fluttering weakly, then slowing to a stop.

The silence was almost overwhelming, nearly pushing me over, as I came close to collapsing. I could hardly contain myself, could hardly make my mouth form the single word, ‘CPR.’

All I could remember then was darkness. Darkness in a good way. But just as my eyes were adjusting to the blackness, they were hit by a cold, blinding light, dazzling me, as I tried to shield the light. At first, I thought I was dead, but then I heard a voice, a familiar one, one that I found familiar, but also unfamiliar. But as I tried to speak to it, my mouth filled with salty water, with a metallic tang to it. I looked down and saw that it was blood.

(P.S. I don’t know how we’re gonna defeat the Tripods, so I’m just gonna write while I imagine what will happen next.)

#Bai

(Are you going to start this thing about the space adventure again?)

(Sorry for the delay.)

Oh, God. Everything was messy. I was trying to get the spaceship programmed quickly. Christopher was shooting small bullets, trying to attract my attention. But I was oblivious of the fact that I was now floating into space, and as I glimpsed at Jane and Christopher, I thought my life would be over. I had programmed this flight to arrive straight at the planet, and there was no way to edit the flight on the shuttle. Even if I could, we would need a protective layer to protect me from the heat if I could somehow get back. With the minute rations I had in my pocket ( definitely my lunch ) it was not going to last extremely long…

Shivering, I imagined how I could die. My blood boiled from outer space. Running out of oxygen. No water. No food. Somehow being fire-ized by a large blob and then killed by indestructible fire. I messaged into Earth. “Hey Jane and Christopher, any way to bring me down?”

“We do have a backup rocket, but it may take days to reach you.”

“I don’t have enough food.”

“Alright then, we’ll make some modifications.”

“Sure, what modifications?”

“Coming in around 12 hours. Extra food supplies will be packed. Christopher and I are coming in.”

“Sure.”

“Good. I’m out.”

After laughing my head off thinking about the chief’s sudden burst in messages, I focussed meticulously on not eating too much. Oh, and by the way, don’t trust a random astronaut who said to you, “Space looks amazing!”.

It’s just an empty amount of blackness, mixed in with dots of light. But the question was, how was I going to get back to Earth? Well, when the rocket did arrive, we had problems. The shuttle was not designed for exiting or entrancing. There was no place where I could leave. It was a good question of how I was to escape. So, I told Jane to pack a super-sharp diamond cutter. This shuttle was only a prototype, so it had some “flaws”. It could only carry 1000 litres of fuel. This could be resolved if a rocket took it up to space for about 50 miles, the prototype would launch, making its way to me. With my trusty spanner in my pocket, I was ready to face anything.

The next few hours were painful. My stomach, growling like a wild beast, was taking over my senses. Soon, my vision had contracted into a telescope, and I could feel nothing apart from the endless pit of my stomach. The Tripods were mimicking all my actions, from my sitting to my eating. All seemed to be peaceful. However, as we advanced, there came a group of monsters, similar to the Tripods, but they had four legs. As if on a cue, they teleported out and started blasting. But a couple of Tripods were no match for the Quapods they were fighting. As mortality rose, I didn’t know how I was to save myself. If it weren’t for Jane and Christopher to come at right that moment, I would have been dead. Deader than dead.

#Bai

(P.S. @Yao. It’s in 1897. How is there a button which summons you straight back?)

We were to… enter the time machine. Well, that would be slightly dangerous, but what else could we do? It was probably too dangerous, but Jane was engulfed in the flames, Christopher and I were lost, and there was no other way. Screaming, “Into the time machine made everyone move. Whirling the time machine into 1896, the day I got trapped into the Tripods, and pressed a conspicuous “GO” button. That was it. There was no going back (well, we could use the time machine to get back to this time, but, assuming you don’t do that…)

I rushed out first sight, and waved at the past me, who gasped and just started speaking gibberish. “Look,” I said, “I’m the future you. I came back to warn you, don’t get on the spaceship. You will come back and destroy Earth!”                                        

He gasped, “No! I can’t destroy Earth. And, you’re just a random person, pretending to be me!”

“Alright then, if you don’t believe me, at least take some food. You’ll be starving!”

“No! Mother told me not to eat stranger’s food. Get off me now!”

There was now a huge problem. If I killed him to stop him from getting on the shuttle, I wouldn’t exist. And he wouldn’t listen to me. There was only one plan: kill me (I hope the logic works. If not, you can blame me.) If I killed myself, I would become the person on the rocket, and telling Jane and Christopher, they were incredulous. “There’s no other way!” I exclaimed. It was not possible any other way. Grabbing a knife, and wondering if I had made the right decision, I plunged the dagger into my heart.

I woke up, my vision blurred. I could glimpse the Tripods, battling with the Quapods. Oh, God. Everything was messy. I was trying to get the spaceship programmed quickly. Christopher was shooting small bullets, trying to attract my attention. But I was oblivious of the fact that I was now floating into space, and as I glimpsed at Jane and Christopher, I thought my life would be over. I had programmed this flight to arrive straight at the planet, and there was no way to edit the flight on the shuttle. Even if I could, we would need a protective layer to protect me from the heat if I could somehow get back. With the minute rations I had in my pocket ( definitely my lunch ) it was not going to last extremely long…

Shivering, I imagined how I could die. My blood boiled from outer space. Running out of oxygen. No water. No food. Somehow being fire-ized by a large blob and then killed by indestructible fire. I messaged into Earth. “Hey Jane and Christopher, any way to bring me down?”

“We do have a backup rocket, but it may take days to reach you.”

“I don’t have enough food.”

“Alright then, we’ll make some modifications.”

“Sure, what modifications?”

“Coming in around 12 hours. Extra food supplies will be packed. Christopher and are I coming in.”

“Sure.”

“Good. I’m out.”

After laughing my head off thinking about the chief’s sudden burst in messages, I focussed meticulously on not eating too much. Oh, and by the way, don’t trust a random astronaut who said to you, “Space looks amazing!”.

It’s just an empty amount of blackness, mixed in with dots of light. But the question was, how was I going to get back to Earth? Well, when the rocket did arrive, we had problems. The shuttle was not designed for exiting or entrancing. There was no place where I could leave. It was a good question of how I was to escape. So, I told Jane to pack a super-sharp diamond cutter. This shuttle was only a prototype, so it had some “flaws”. It could only carry 1000 litres of fuel. This could be resolved if a rocket took it up to space for about 50 miles, the prototype would launch, making its way to me. With my trusty spanner in my pocket, I was ready to face anything.

The next few hours were painful. My stomach, growling like a wild beast, was taking over my senses. Soon, my vision had contracted into a telescope, and I could feel nothing apart from the endless pit of my stomach. The Tripods were mimicking all my actions, from my sitting to my eating. All seemed to be peaceful. However, as we advanced, there came a group of monsters, similar to the Tripods, but they had four legs. As if on a cue, they teleported out and started blasting. But a couple of Tripods were no match for the Quapods they were fighting. As mortality rose, I didn’t know how I was to save myself. If it weren’t for Jane and Christopher to come at right that moment, I would have been dead. Deader than dead. But at that moment, I knew that Jane would press that button, and oh, things would NOT come as expected, it wouldn’t.

#Yao

Brie was trapped in the space ship once again, and we were trying to get food to him. I desperately radioed Chief over and over. Chief didn’t respond. I then suddenly remembered a way to destroy the Tripods. How about going back in time to make sure the Quapods never came? This way, the Tripods would never need another home. It was perfect!

“Jane, I want you to get the time machine ready to zap back four thousand years,” I told her, strapping on an alien-killing rocket launcher.

“I don’t like this idea, but, fine,” she said.

She packed cans of food and some rifles. Then, we were off.

ZOOM!

I remember a very dizzy feeling, the time when my uncle took me on a pony ride. It was so painful.

As I tried harder and harder not to throw up, I looked up at Jane, who was kneeling over, counting rice grains to stop thinking about her stomach. As time went back, we saw the Roman Empire, the Medieval Ages, many different and exciting things. But then, we saw a large purple planet. A small dot in the distance looked like a spaceship.

“Quick, unlock the doors, and let’s scram! Set up rocket launchers, grenades, anything! Just something that will explode and destroy that invading spaceship. We need to keep the Tripods safe!” I yelled. Jane understood and reached for five mortars. I grabbed some explosives and headed for the planet. Wow. The planet was covered with small and big Tripods, all walking and enjoying their day. Some of the smaller ones looked at us and tried to pick us up, but we waved them off.

“The spaceship is approaching. Quickly load the stuff, and aim!” I cried while slipping anti-alien grenades into a mortar.

As the spaceship with all the Quapods at the gun ports began coming closer, I aimed and adjusted each of the weapons’ angles. Soon, the ship was just 150 meters away.

“FIRE!” I cried.

THUD! THUD! THUD!

The explosives hit the spaceship and detonated. Almost fifty spots were burned to a crisp.

“C’mon! They’re approaching!” I cried, frantically pushing in shells. Jane rushed over to help me. I fired a small howitzer. The cannonball shot out, and instantly hit the spaceship, creating a large hole. But after all the smoke, the spaceship was only going slower! Would we be able to stop it from harming the Tripods?

I didn’t know. But it seemed like a good try. Then, I got an idea.

“Jane! Get back to the machine. Make us go back two hours. We’ll be able to set up everything, even the heavy equipment! Go! Now!” I cried, fending off the spaceship with my tiny rifle. I ran back, dropping everything. If we went back two hours, we would still have all our equipment. And there would be two copies of each of us to help us fight the Quapods and save Earth.

#Dudu

I nodded and headed towards the time panel. I reached it just before Brie gave me a thumbs up and I pulled the lever, transferring Brie and Christopher back two hours. I gazed at the destruction and then upwards to see a small analogue screen from Christopher and Brie’s views. When they travelled, the machine automatically inserted an iris-cam, that was connected to the small screen, so I could see what they were up to. They didn’t know, of course, or they would have hated me. But if I hadn’t put the eye-cam in, one of them would have died.

They were fighting the Quapods when I lost sight of Christopher. I assumed that he had just closed his eyes, but after a few minutes, I realized that he had lost connection.

I was in a state of pure panic. It was dangerous to get lost in time, occasionally fatal. I checked his co-ordinates, but according to its calculations, he was stationary, as still as stagnant air. I messaged Brie, as his iris-cam was alive, and his co-ordinates were ever-changing, but as I feared he messaged back, saying, He’s not with me…

#Bai

I was moving, sure, but I had lost Christopher. According to Jane, he was stationary, but his iris-cam showed that he was moving. So which do I believe? It was suspicious, because we were all at the same time machine, all together to begin with. So I suppose you could say that we were on the same spot on a four-dimensional ruler. So it was the three-dimensional part that went wrong. We were in different parts of space, maybe even different parts of our galaxy!

But how would we know where he would be? I tried to communicate with him:

“Hey, where are you?”

“Coordinate 846, 284, 905, 50000 years ago.”

“My coordinates are 4787878, 20193, 120573, 50000 years ago. Just near Earth.”

“We’re going to need to come to you. To defeat the Tripods.”

“Ok. How are you going to get here.”
“Using my new teleportation-machine-with-extra-powers-and-can-get-anywhere-machine-even-in-four-dimensional-spaces-and-can-even-make-you-smaller-machine.”

“UHH. Ok. Come then.”

“Within half a minute, he was here.”

But there was still a problem: how were we to defeat the Quapods?

We could just start blasting and then blasting and then blasting, but that was silly. There had to be a way where we could defeat them quickly, without any hassle. Well, with no ideas in my head, I just picked out my blaster.

A few minutes later ***

“No! NO!” I screamed. The Quapods were too strong. They could fend off our bullets again and again. There was only one option. I called Jane, “Send us the time machine. We’re stuck!”

The time machine came, but the digits were 1897.

Christopher and I walked in, and a whirring sound came, filling my mind with dread. “No! We’re going back to the time when I was on the ship!”

Shivering, I imagined how I could die. My blood boiled from outer space. Running out of oxygen. No water. No food. Somehow being fire-ized by a large blob and then killed by indestructible fire. I messaged into Earth. “Hey Jane and Christopher, any way to bring me down?”

“We do have a backup rocket, but it may take days to reach you.”

“I don’t have enough food.”

“Alright then, we’ll make some modifications.”

“Sure, what modifications?”

“Coming in around 12 hours. Extra food supplies will be packed. Christopher and are I coming in.”

“Sure.”

“Good. I’m out.”

After laughing my head off thinking about the chief’s sudden burst in messages, I focussed meticulously on not eating too much. Oh, and by the way, don’t trust a random astronaut who said to you, “Space looks amazing!”.

It’s just an empty amount of blackness, mixed in with dots of light. But the question was, how was I going to get back to Earth? Well, when the rocket did arrive, we had problems. The shuttle was not designed for exiting or entrancing. There was no place where I could leave. It was a good question of how I was to escape. So, I told Jane to pack a super-sharp diamond cutter. This shuttle was only a prototype, so it had some “flaws”. It could only carry 1000 litres of fuel. This could be resolved if a rocket took it up to space for about 50 miles, the prototype would launch, making its way to me. With my trusty spanner in my pocket, I was ready to face anything.

The next few hours were painful. My stomach, growling like a wild beast, was taking over my senses. Soon, my vision had contracted into a telescope, and I could feel nothing apart from the endless pit of my stomach. The Tripods were mimicking all my actions, from my sitting to my eating. All seemed to be peaceful. However, as we advanced, there came a group of monsters, similar to the Tripods, but they had four legs. As if on a cue, they teleported out and started blasting. But a couple of Tripods were no match for the Quapods they were fighting. As mortality rose, I didn’t know how I was to save myself. If it weren’t for Jane and Christopher to come at right that moment, I would have been dead. Deader than dead. But at that moment, I knew that Jane would press that button, and oh, things would NOT come as expected, it wouldn’t.

#Yao

My head whirled as it hit something hard. I could hear noises, bickering. Oh, what was happening? My poor head. And my belly wasn’t quite nice either. Then, I finally opened an eye. LONDON!

“Good day, mate,” a young man walking beside me said. “Want help getting up. You’re quite a large chap!”

I took his extended hand.

“I don’t understand, where am I? What year is it?” I asked dazed. Everything looked, so, so, so futuristic!

“Sonny, don’t you know what day it is?” the man asked, concerned.

“What date is it?” I asked.

“First, I’ll take you to a nice lunch. But if you want an answer, it’s 2097!” the man said. I gulped, my Adam’s apple bulging out of my throat.

“Er, er, er, er, 2097???” I asked and almost fainted.

“Why, yes, chappy, what? Now, my parents are wealthy, so take my offer. There’s a really nice sandwich, and chips place just over there. The robots are nice, too!” he said.

“R-r-r-r-robots?” I asked.

“Why, yes!” the man said. “Are you sure you’re not mental? No offence!”

I stuttered out a few words, and the man looked at me strangely.

“Your clothes are old,” he noticed.

Where were Jane and Christopher? Jane could be in the Medieval Ages! Christopher could be in the Roman Empire! I slowly walked with the man as he brought me to a fancy place with large metal mechanical things in it. I didn’t see a single thing on the menu I had known. Where were the bangers and mash? And Sunday Dinners? And black pudding, and, and, Scotch pudding, and hasty pudding? Where were the mushy peas? The roast lamb? I went dizzy again.

I looked at the options again.

1. Pasta with sausage, fries for just 14.50
2. Elaborate Sandwich with Chips for only 15.99
3. Onion Rings with sauce along with Coke for 3.20
4. Giant Soda with large chips for 2.40

I was confused.

I asked a waiter nearby.

“Yes, sir,” he said. Then, I realized it was only a mechanical thing in the clothes of a waiter.

“Do you have a time machine?” I asked.

“Yes. It is right at the store next to us. What will you order?” he asked.

“Do you have any fish pudding?” I asked. The robot frowned.

“Error to process, I’m afraid,” he muttered then went away.

So now, I was stuck in the year 2097, with time machines and these metal things, and for all I knew, Jane could be at the Battle of Concord and Lexington!

#Dudu

I blinked open my eyes and shook my head. Everything was a blur, but my eyes focused and I saw that I was lying on a flat rock, in the middle of a clump of other flat boulders. There was a leaf mulch on the ground and a canopy of leaves over my head. I looked around, and I saw a sparkling lake coming from a gap between two stones. I recognized this as where my father took me at eight years old. I remember every square inch of it, the sandy hiking trail, ‘Fairy’ lake, and the old oak tree where I set up my hammock. I walk over to the lake, and I remember that the old oak was the most eye-catching tree, the one you would see before any other tree. I walked over to it, and suddenly memories cascaded down on me. I remembered falling off the topmost branch and somersaulting into the crystal lake, and I remembered my father setting up a hammock on my favourite branch, the one I called ‘Jane’s’ branch, I even remember the time I camped out in the forest, sleeping on my hammock while my father slept on another branch. I hoisted myself up onto the lowest branch, scrambling up up the trunk like a squirrel. When I reach the middle part of the tree, I saw my father’s hammock, the one he slept in, when I slept in mine. I see a hole in the trunk of the tree, the place he put his pillow and blanket. I looked inside and saw a thin blue sheet and a small cushion. I take it out and realize that it’s dusk, a soft, muted orange taking over the azure sky. I watch the beautiful sunset from my father’s hammock, the orange slowly being taken over by a candyfloss pink. At the last moment, I think of Brie and Christopher, stuck in other periods of time, just before the dark tendrils of sleep pull me into unconsciousness.

#Bai

(@yao (again) – I think that Brie is me. You are Christopher, right? So please don’t say that you are me.)

My mind was spinning as I landed in the middle of a large town. There were men, walking around with chainmail stuck to them. Taints of red wool were on their bodies, as one leading soldier (well, that wasn’t too hard to find out – they had rapiers, spears all the lot) was holding a long narrow stick with an eagle tied on top. Ummmm, this seemed familiar. Had I learnt it in schools? And then the clue came. Slaves were carrying building blocks, onto a suspiciously tilting building. “The tower of Pisa-Italy-Rome-Roman Soldiers!” whizzing through my head faster than lightning. On a nearby tree, a poster blurred into view: a poster saying WANTED – reward £40. But what was most disturbing was there was a photo just like me…

That day I did things which would be named as inhumane my dad would say, however, my dad also said if you needed to save yourself, you could do whatever is necessary. And I did need to save myself. My first instinct when I saw the dozens of soldiers was just to run to a nearby house, a large one. Where would I run to? A pigsty. Throwing all the food out – that was one of the inhumane bits, I jumped into the manager – like baby Jesus had reincarnated.

I was there for an hour or so. The soldiers searched every single nook and cranny there was. But at last, they entered the pigsty. One more step… My hand reached for just one thing, anything which could save me… One more breath… My hands hit the pig food. Lobbing it at the soldiers (that was the second inhumane thing) the pigs went for the food. Out of the large house, I ran, grabbing as much food and water I could. I needed to survive this. Wondering where Jane and Christopher were – they could be at the Battle of Concord and Lexington, jumped into a poorer house to stay the night.

It was cold. It was freezing. I crept into the living room, where I found a hole, known as the “fridge”. This was where the sun could not shine in, which would keep it warm – pretty clever for that time? Anyway, the food was half a fish and a piece of bread, plus my rations of a loaf of bread, half a dozen boiled eggs and potato. And I stole some water with my flask (from 1897). Soon, I fell asleep, under a sofa.

The next day I woke up to find the family had already got up, which explained why I felt the space between the floor and the bottom of the sofa had contracted. I needed to wait for the family to leave, and then escape, but my feet were numb. There was no way I could make it. I couldn’t stamp my feet, the family would find me, and then I’d be dead. I was just contemplating knocked the family out and escaping (which would have been my third inhumane act) when what I had least hoped would have happened, happened. The soldiers marched in again, unstrangely having bite marks all over themselves. They asked, “Have you seen any person come into your house?”

“No. Why?”

“There has been a runway from prison. Sent there because of murder, felony and stealing. We will find him.”

“Well, do you know where he is?”

“No. Which is why we will have to search your house.”

#Yao

Brie and Jane were in the middle of nowhere. I was stuck in the 21st century. And worst of all, I was watching the man a few tables from gobble down a monstrous and dirty sandwich made from artificial beef and lots of cheese.

I rubbed my head. My companion asked me if I was okay.

“I think…I think I’ll go for a little walk,” I muttered, leaving the table. I exited the food place and then began walking to the store where people and machines swarmed like bees around me. Some of them stared oddly at me. I brushed some hair from my head.

I quickly purchased a machine, and was about to use it when a couple of police officers came up to me. They whispered something to each other, and then grabbed my hands and arms.

“Huh? Hey, stop it! I am a free British citizen!” I yelled, waving my arms.

“Hah, sonny. You won’t be no more when you get put in the slammer. Drag him in boys!” the fat sergeant yelled. Then, he slammed a large piece of poster into my face. I looked at it, and saw to my surprise that my portrait was on the paper, and below it read:

Reward is 50,000 Qbucks

I moaned. Why was I going to jail? I’d done nothing wrong! And then I noticed my “crimes”.

Illegal Trade of time machines. Possible culprit for the man who changed the outcome of the War of 1812. Evidence: Saw subject with highly dangerous Jack Olbridge, man known for sticking at The Robot Diner. Jack Olbridge has been known for trading illegal time machines and robots. Was also seen conversing with the man in a quiet and soft manner. 

That man, the man who had helped me up, tricked me! I was going to get my revenge.

Just as I was thinking these thoughts, I got thrown into a dirty and unkempt cell.

The door swung closed, locking me in the cell for what seemed to be forever.

Okay, Day 2.

I had just awaken and tried to devise a possible escape plan. The guards were all robots with blasters, ready to kill.

Quickly, I made a plan.

First, I would slam the dinner plate into the guard robot handing it out, therefore breaking his computer system. I would then grab his pass code chip, swing it through the cell lock, and then get into the tunnel leading towards the sewer system. I would wade through the filth, and get my way towards civilisation.

Unfortunately, that night, dinner was nothing but a piece of dry bread.

#Dudu

My night was long and disturbed. I kept fidgeting in the hammock, trying to get back to sleep, but then I heard it. A sound that made my blood chill and my spine tingle. A sound that was eerie and welcoming at the same time. But then, there was the sound of rope snapping, and I plummeted downwards.

I was heading towards my greatest fear – death – and there was nothing I could do about it. When my body made an impact with the ground, I felt the air taken away from my body, knocked out of my lungs. I just lay there, dazed, while every thing blurred out around me, and all I was aware of was the muted sounds of the forest, and the pain of the fall, before I lost track of the world and blacked out.

When I awoke, I heard mutters and murmurs, and I opened my eyes to see I was on a white table, and there were people wearing white clothing and white masks. Everything, except for me, was white and I wasn’t even with the world properly. I felt like I was trapped under ice, mouthing words to strangers who couldn’t hear me. Even in the waking world I was separated from other humans, enclosed in a glass case, wires and tubes springing out of every which way. I was no better than an animal, isolated until the effects of depression started to show. And then they turn savage, their hatred against humans growing every day. They had to shoot them, or shock them with electric loops, time after time. Was I really destined for the shooting ground?

#Bai

The guards crept closer, and closer to under the sofa. “Hey, is there something underneath that?”
“No, just an old rug. “

“We had better check it – what if there were somebody underneath it?”

Just the single step accelerated the already rampant pounding of my heart. One more step… and a “hey!!!”, I was found out, and brought the nearby prison. I was brought in front of the emperor, who screamed at me for stealing money, refusing to fight, assassinating the previous chief, and punching a fellow soldier in the face. Well, as if he knew anything about me…

               The cell was terrible. A barred window, barred door, small bunk, and a little toilet. The ground was soft, but it was too hard for me to dig with my hands, right? But with no plan to escape, I had to sleep the night.

               However, the next day, I got familiar with routine. Breakfast from 6:00 to 7:00. Come later and you miss it. 7:00 to 12:00. Hard labour. Involves moving stones – huge – for the Tower of Pisa. Cooking, small broth. Simple but cook is very strict. Strikes you on the head with a glass. But the most import part was the workhouse. There we would use all sorts of pickaxes, and even shovels to go mining and creating things. However, watch was very strict. You would have to be searched when you entered and left the buildings. However, I noticed something. You could be excused for the toilet, where I would deposit my tool in my cell, and then manage to escape.

               The next day, I put my plan into work. During about 9:49, I stuffed a mallet directly into the inside of my clothes and was allowed out. I pretended to head left – the toilets were there but actually headed right – the direction of my cell.  There, I stuffed the mallet into my covers, it worked successfully!  Then, I rushed back to the workhouse and continued my work.

               The next day when the guard came to open our cells, I knocked him on the head. He collapsed, but no one came. Door was on the left and I headed there – I was free!

Now, the plan was to find the time machine, and get in it. I went back into my memory – when I came out, I had been in the Tower of Pisa. That meant that the time machine was in the Tower of Pisa! But as I got there, a few dozens of guards surrounded me. What was I to do?

#Yao

I stared at the bread.

“Eat it up, or else the roaches will beat you to it,” the man next to my cell said. He gobbled up his bread as fast as lighting.

I paused for a moment, and then began to eat my bread…

“OW!” I cried out as I bit my own hand. Where was my bread? I found it being swarmed by cockroaches in the small corner of my cell. I gulped.

“Har,” the small man to the right of my cell said. “I see ya a newcomer. Gotta be tough. This is a maximum security prison. Ya want to know want happened to the four fools who tried to break out last month? Go tell, Scarface.”

The man that had ate his bread up super quickly was Scarface. He had a large scar running down his face.

“Ah, those young bittles. They tried to get out of here, and managed to strangle two guards with the special Sunday spaghetti that Cook dishes up every weekend. Stretchy and hard as rope. They then destroyed two robots with the meatballs and managed to break out of the wall using pancakes as shovels. Guards caught ’em. Went to court, got arraigned, stupid lads brought themselves to the table. Then, Chop! Dead as a doornail, all of em!”

I shuddered. Was that what was going to happen to me if I tried to break out?

“What’s your name, lad?” Scarface asked.

“C-C-Christopher. Christopher Benanton,” I answered.

“Well, Christopher Benchto, can me and my friend Short Typhoon let you in on a secret?” Scarface asked. Short Typhoon nodded at me from my right.

“Uh…Sure! I got nothing to lose, anyway,” I told them.

“Except your life,” Short Typhoon corrected.

“What?” I half-yelled.

“Shut up!” Scarface whisper-shouted. “The guards electrocute everybody who talks during Solitary Confinement.”

“Wait, my life? Are you two trying to kill me?” I asked.

“No, we’re escaping,” Short Typhoon whispered. I doubled over.

“You see, we’re sick of this. We know how this jail works. Once a prisoner turns fifty-five years old, he’s killed by lethal injection. Saves up space, they say,” Scarface told me.

“I’m thirty-seven, but Scarface is already fifty-four. His birthday is next Tuesday, the day before the jailers select the people. We have six days to get out of here. We don’t make it, Scarface is dead,” Short Typhoon told me. I nodded.

“Actually, I’ve been thinking of escape too. I’m innocent! I didn’t even get a fair trial!” I said.

“Nobody here got a fair trial. And 90 per cent of us are innocent! The other ten per cent is the guards. They’re in for manslaughter and inhumane beatings and torture. Plus the daily habit of letting a rat eat a prisoner’s body,” Short Typhoon told me.

I gulped three times.

“We have a plan. We will tunnel our way out. But first, we need three big shovels. We can get that if we but it with our own tiny wages here. We break the walls. It’s easy, since when the guys first built this place, they designed it so it was hard as metal. But rats were already behind the wall, and so they managed to nibble their way through, and create a soft wall. We tunnel, then cover up our tracks by making it look as if the rats broke through. They’ll be so busy mending it we’ll at least have a whole eight hours to ourselves before the guards have roll call. We get out, and go our separate ways,” Scarface told me.

“Nice plan. I’m afraid you’re all going to The Guy,” somebody said. We all whirled around. A man was standing there, a baton in his hands. We all looked at each other. We were doomed. But then I realized a plan. I just hoped Typhoon and Scarface would go with it. I raised my hands, and so did the two of them. The guard had to unlock one of our doors. He chose mine first, since I looked the most civil. While he was busy unlocking Typhoon’s door, and gave him and upper cut to the chin. Spit fell out of his mouth, and he began whining in pain, so I then quieted his cries by clobbering him on his big balloon head.

#Dudu

I spent most of my days thinking and meditating. I wanted to lash out, but the death threats stopped me. I couldn’t move, not even eat. I was trapped in a body that was forced into shape by the toughness and loss. I was not even breathing, just floating in my mind in a heaven of thinking. I wasn’t alive, no, but I wasn’t dead. I had blurred the line between reality and imagination, life, and death. I wasn’t human, but I was shaped and made like a human. But inside I was an alien to life. I never woke, but I never slept. I was dead but alive. I was dead in my outer body, but I was alive in my mind.

I didn’t eat, I didn’t breathe, I didn’t drink, I didn’t move. I stayed alive. I had made the journey no other had made. I was alone then. I was walking a path on my own. No Christoper, no Brie, no Mum, no Dad. I was truly alone. When I had been ‘alone’ I wasn’t even close to solitary. Beings surrounded me. I wasn’t then. No one had ever been alone. Not then, not ever. No one except for me.

Nobody realized I was dead. No one. But then, when I never moved, not even the slightest rise and fall of the chest, everyone noticed. But then it was too late.

#Bai

@yao and @dudu. Sorry for the delay. I am trying so hard to make it 12821. Hello. Hello. Hello. Hello.

Things weren’t looking good for me. Thrown into a highly secured prison cell. Every criminal had 3 guards personally surrounding themselves. I was the first and only person there. I had to admit, it wasn’t ENTIRELY my fault. The prison was just built a few days ago. As soon as I was thrown in, I only thought of one thing, not of the fact that the rats might beat me to my bread; not that I might suffer from being beaten; not about being treated unfairly; I was thinking about ESCAPE.

               There had to be a plan: window, too high, barred. Ground, too hard, solid. Door, iron, with three guards outside. It seemed hopeless. The guards were extremely close to my cell. No doubt I could pull out on of their swords, and then stab them, make a run grab their keys and escape back finally to the Tower of Pisa. Good thinking, apart from one thing. Every five minutes, the head of this prison comes to check everything, and lately, well, they had added security and they came to check every minute by another soldier. Problem is, can I kill, grab keys and run to the Tower of Pisa in less than a minute? I doubt it. So, that night, I attempted it – it was the best time when they were drowsy.

“So, keeping lookout today, Fred and Looge. Mr Bighead coming to check on us in a minute. Be on your best behaviour before he screams at you.”

“I’d like to kill him and dump him in the river. Annoying guy, he is.”

“Yeah. How come he gets to stay around, messing around, when we have to deal with this imbecile who has done some random rotten, well not at all, crimes and we have to pay. I’d rather this guy be free.

“Prob. Hey, do you think we should kill Mr Bighead?”

My heart skipped a beat. If these three rebellious guards could do the job for me, I’d be pleased.

“Ok, let’s do it.” Said Looge, in barely more than a whisper.

I couldn’t believe my ears. My heart was an unrhythmic drum, beating randomly.

“Hello, Fred. Everything doing good?”

“Yes, of course, sir. But just saying sir, our prisoner seems a bit hungry. Maybe…”

I didn’t listen to him anymore. All my eyes were on Looge behind him, reaching for a dagger. Suddenly there was a thud, and blood rushed through the prison cell. ‘Mr Bighead’ was dead.

“So, Mr Prisoner, you can get out now. Here, some civilian clothes. Get ready to run out of here.”

               I couldn’t believe it. I was free. As I ran towards the Tower of Pisa, I thought of the time I would teleport to. Where?