#Translationofthemind

[waitingforatlantis-blog]

Translation of the Mind - Part 1

“It's oh so cold isn't it dear?” spoke the old women, “I wish I had a warm woolly hat and scarf like you.” I gazed at her with the most warm look I could give but I wasn't very successful. She just stared, waiting for a reply like most people spend their lives. I look to her eyes they are soft and full of memories like looking through a kaleidoscope.

“I assure you my woolly hat and scarf are not sufficient. I hate the cold but sometimes like it. At least cold is kind, if you are really cold it numbs you of the pain rather than heat just gives you heat stroke. Winter is kind and summer is mean. That's my opinion on the weather and my bus is now arriving so if you'll excuse me, I'll be boarding.” I simply nod and walk towards the bus but before I hear the women's voice again. “Oh, dear. It's my bus too. Going to down town are we?” She says, I can now smell her now. The smell of decay but almost alive as well. “Yes, I am.” I keep my answer short as not to invoke a conversation.

“Why might that be?” She speaks softly but with a tone of inquisitiveness. I look towards, her eyes have changed. They are full of hunger but not for a burger or chocolate. She seems different. I realise. I pull my pistol out from behind my belt and shoot her straight in the head. Everyone looks at me with a look of despair for humanity.

I turn and walk down the street. I feel the eyes on me like bullets to my brain. They know who I am but they don't know what to do about it. It was a simple fact to me but to them it was like a maze combined with advanced mathematics. I hate the way they look at me as if I'm criminal. I'm not the criminal. I won't become the criminal.

I can see all of them now. They are everywhere and alert. Every old and slightly withered person were silent. Everyone else looked scared. They knew who I am and what I do.

I walked into the old shopping centre making sure no-one was following me. Went to the stairs and grabbed the rope. I was pulled up. This is our hideout. This is our home. This is where we live and eventually die.

“Thanks, R.” I say. We all have code names we aren't allowed to use our actual names.

“No problem, S.” That was me S. There were only twenty of us left. There were twenty six.

I walk into the conference room. Eyes glue to me as soon as I arrive. Murmurs went around the room. A chorus of questions swarmed my ears. I could see all of my so called friends but if I'm truthful I don't have any, you can't trust anyone in times like these.

“Any news?” I say, a sharp tone to my voice with impatience mingled in.

“No, we still don't know how to stop them.” K says. He looks shaky as per usual. Must have been a nervous creature in his last life but who I am to guess? No one knows anything about the others. It's something we keep to ourselves. Secrets create bate and they can sniff them out. The more people who know the secret the more obvious your scent becomes. That's what happened to Y. She was with her boyfriend C, she told a secret to him. He swore he told no-one else. He lied, he told J – who was his best friend – and before you knew it they were out collecting food and boom they became a prisoner of them. I have always kept things to myself before anything broke out. You can't trust anyone and that's the truth.

I sigh and walk to my “office”. It's a small damp room with a desk in the middle. I don't use the desk for paper work but for modifying weaponry and defences. I am there 'leader' but I just stick to my gut and it's always right. The others seemed to have accepted that. Luckily for them, I was well trained with weapons and fighting skills.

They were afraid of me for I could kill them. Their prisoners could do no harm but I can. I've killed to many. Even my own grandmother when she became one. I don't feel guilty for it because she wasn't her. I know that now but at the time I spent nights crying and weeping in self pity. Drowning in my own thoughts but now I've learnt not to let myself be weak. It's the only way.

I start to look at the machine gun in front of me before I hear a huge amount of mumbling next door. There was no meeting and no missions. I began to wonder what it was but I didn't let my curiosity get to me.

“S!S!” I hear R shouting. “Come quick!” I jump off my chair and run towards the door. I carry on through the hallway – a bit of water dripping on my forehead. I open the door to the other room and see a boy. He's my age, middle height and looks tired and frail. His eyes are a normal colour so he must be normal. He looks terrified.

“Who are you? Don't say your name, just who you are.” I ask, the little crowd goes quiet. “I'm an escaped prisoner from the things. I just ran here when I saw you go in here. I escaped them.” He speaks fast and with little breath.

“Welcome to our humble abode. My name is S, I am the leader of this...'Society'. You do as I say you can stay, break the rules and we offer you to them. Any questions?” I speak harshly since I don't think he'll last long and I want to get through the cry baby facade.

“Um...what are they?” He asks. He looks worried probably scared of the answer he might get.

“As far as we know they're aliens. They feed of secrets and knowledge. The more secrets, the more they can smell you so don't tell anyone anything.”

“Why old people?”

“They have more secrets and memories than a baby for example.”

“What is that thing in my neck?” “An implant, makes you not be able to keep a secret. If I asked for you name you'd have to tell me. Those aliens are stupid and have not put in a tracker. I believe we can get it out, is that right F?”

“Yes it is. We can remove it now if you'd like?” F asks. He is the doctor of this camp.

“Thank you.” The newcomer says. “This way.” F leads the boy off and everyone looks at me waiting for me to say something.

“Get back to work the lot of you.” I scowl as they run back to work. They feared but respected me because I was the first to stand up against the aliens.

I walk into the doctors room and see a bloody neck and an implant in a bowl. I also see the newcomer breathing heavily on the chair. He looks relived but in pain. It's almost too much for him to take but he comes back round and looks me in the eyes. “What should everyone call me if I can't say my name?” He says. His eyes look alert and like someone is going to attack him, it was also evident by his fists and blood pumping through his neck. “It's ok, no one is going to attack you and you shall be called 1.”

“1?” “Yeah, all the alphabet is taken up so you'll have to start the new 10.”

“If you were – as I am presuming – the frist of these people-”

“Correct.”

“Why aren't you A?”

“I never liked that much, I preferred S if I am honest.”

“I think there's more to it than that.” 1 gives me a look and I know that cocky smile. He thinks he can crack me with his good looks and charms but it won't work.

“If there were, which there isn't, I couldn't tell you because secrets to them are like a piece of food to a dog. They can sniff it out for miles. They won't come here but they'll know where you are. They'll find you and take you.”

“Sorry. Am I always going to have to do as you tell me?”

“Yes. Yes you are. If you want to die, go against me. I don't care about who I kill just what does the killing and your not even worth a weapon to me. I'd do it with my bear hands. Are we understood?”

“No. Why should I follow you?” I see that cocky look in his eyes. It sparks something in me. I grabbed his collar and hold him at least a foot above him.

“You will do as I say. I know what I am doing and I'm not wrong ever. Otherwise I wouldn't be here. I am the only one who has survived since the beginning so take my word over you own. Are we understood?” I say through gritted teeth.

“Yes.” He says, choked ever so slightly. I place him down and let him fall. I turn my back as he starts to get up and I hear him mutter under his breath.

“Why are all the hot chicks crazy?” I chuckle to myself. He thinks I'm crazy he hasn't seen the world enough.