After being rescued, I am informed that I could no longer go to River View Orphan’s Academy, and I would be placed in a rental home until next school year. Where I would be then placed in a different boarding school. After everyone had been rescued from the earthquake-wrecked school, all the students were taken to a train station to get to their temporary home.
When we finally got off the train, we were given food and shown where we would be living for the next few months. When we were shown our bedrooms (which were shared with multiple others) almost everybody, including me, fell asleep straightaway. After a long sleep filled with vivid dreams of much worse versions of what had happened, I woke up. It was 6:00 AM, much earlier than I normally woke, but several others were awake too, talking to each other in hushed voices. At first, I was confused about why I was here, but than I remembered, and that didn’t exactly help. In my head, I tried to go through what happened during the earthquake, but I had no memory of it. Then I looked down and saw what looked like a sharp metal needle in my skin, but with a bulb at the end. I figured it was some kind of prank from another student. I yanked it out and tossed it in the trash.
“The object in in the photo above is called a medical puncture, more commonly known as the the memory puncture, because while they were invented to help insert vaccines into a patient, they are most commonly used by criminals who put a type of liquid that keeps the human brain from accessing memory from the time the “memory puncture” is shot, used to keep witnesses from reporting to police any information. The best way to regain access to your memory is to put what is commonly known as “Memory Eixir” inside a medical puncture, and after a few hours, you will be able to regain most of your memory.”
I stared at the page, shocked. I try to put the pieces together. A memory puncture would explain why I can’t remember-but why would anyone do that? Besides, no one had found any unknown bodies in the ruin. Then I realize something. To escape any questioning or being found, they must have known that there was going to be an earthquake in advance. Except for one teensy detail: that’s impossible. So it must have been a bomb. In my room, since they used the memory puncture on me.
It turned out not to be that simple. The memory was very blurry, but from what I could make of it, someone had stormed in, punctured me, that tossed what was probably the bomb on the floor, then made a run for it. It looked like he had a tattoo that went all the way around his neck, but I couldn’t make out what it was, but I got the feeling that if I saw the same tattoo again, I would recognize it.
I go to a police station to report what I knew, but when told the police officers what I remembered, they said that I was hallucinating; that I didn’t understand. I hesitate, then choose not to give up. They became more interested when I told them how it was that I remembered, but still didn’t believe me. Well, fine! I thought. I’ll just catch the criminal myself, and then they’ll be sorry that they didn’t listen! And I won’t give up!!! I run back to the shared-by-many house, trying to think, to make the memory clearer. It doesn’t work. I try again until I go to bed. Then I try half the next day, a fruitless search to try to define the tattoo, only stopping because all “students” were required to go to a particular restraunt at a certain time that day.
It turned out to be a seafood buffet. I got a lot of shrimp and crab and a soda, then sat down at a table. Then, I heared a screeching sound. It took me a moment to realize that it was the door. And the person coming through it had a tattoo around his neck.
It was a pride of lions. The tattoo, I mean. He walked in, and after getting food, he sat down at a table. And didn’t plant a bomb, as far as I could see. Like a normal person. But it was him, I was sure of it. I didn’t think that he knew that, I, or in fact anyone from River View Orphan’s Academy was here. It was just a coincidince. And a lucky one, for me. I carefully slip a hand into my pocket, take out my phone, and take a photo of him, than a more zoomed-in version. I eat as fast as I can, so that I can leave at anytime and be done. And I needed to, because he was very quickly finished. He walked out, into the parking lot, and into a car without windows on the top. I hesitate. Come on, I told myself. You can’t give up. I hesitate, then climb on top of the car.
The drive is only about ten minutes, but this area seems so much more remote than the area the seafood restraunt was in. The bomber started to open the door and I leaped off the car and hide within the tall grass. I follow him, careful to stay at a safe distance.
He walked into a rickety old building and I caught a glimpse of what was inside: criminals. Some knew from the news; most I didn’t. There were eight altogether: It was clearly a small organization, but had enough to it that it had meetings. I don’t go in, but instead held up my phone in front of the window so that only the camera showed, and I was completely out of sight.
“So, whats’s happened this week?” barked a burly guy who was smoking. The Lion-Tattoo guy said, “took a whole lot of cash from some boarding school, than blew the place up.” Someone else said, “got a lot outta a bank.” “Anythin’ else? asked the burly guy.” The answer he got was a general mumbling of, “no”. “All right then!” barked the burly guy. Well, ya’ll know the drill!” And to my horror, Lion-Tattoo guy opened a suitcase filled with cash-from my school. He handed out the stolen money to everyone there. The person who had robbed a bank also handed out cash, And than the burly guy handed out wine and they all start lounging around. I stop and dialed 9-1-
“And just what do you think you’re doin’?” I turn around, and to my horror, I saw the criminals. The next thing I knew, I was unconcious.
When I woke, none of them were there. I was inside the little building, my phone on a table out of my reach, and I was tied up. I’m not sure what to do, but I have to get rid of these ropes. And I won’t give up.
I hesitate, not sure what to do. I can’t just E-mail a school office, or call the police; my phone is out of reach. So I can’t use the same escape as the last time I was unconsius. Then I realize something. Before, I only asked for help because I couldn’t think for myself. I need to think. I think of simulated escapes I’d watch on youtube. My favorite had been a pack of piranhas snapping away the seaweed bounds, but that wouldn’t work here. or would it? I hesitate, then bend down and bite one of the ropes. It breaks. I do it again with another rope. It also breaks. Delighted, I bite many more ropes. Now I can’t break the ropes with my mouth anymore – the rest all are out of my mouths reach, but I broke a lot of the ones around my hands and arms, leaving me free to just untie the rest. It takes an hour or so, but I manage it. Then I grab my phone and check if the recording is still there. Yep. I look out the window and see all of them, no longer hanging around in the little building, but instead on some benches a few yards away. I quickly dial 9-1-1. To my delight, the police believe me this time. I look out the window and wait.
I’m the first to see the police – the criminals are too busy drinking and telling each other about bank heists to notice. I walk out of the little building. I’m not noticed, either. The criminals not noticing helped a lot – it didn’t give them a lot of time to fight back. After they are forced into cars, They put me in another. When arrive, I’m interrogated even more. The result? They will all have trials in May. I’m awarded $20,000 for “Tracking down and efficiently capturing a large number of criminals”, but the best part was the adventure I went through and the how I changed.
