A Road To The Next Universe

It was all my fault

A/N - So, yesterday and today I have had a snow day off school because it snowed really heavily. My teachers uploaded our work to do online and the English task was a creative writing piece. I thought that I would put it on here to get your opinions on it.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The task:

Creative Writing

Write at least a page using the following title:

It was all my fault!

Your writing can be real, or imaginary.

In your writing you could:

 Explain the situation;

 Describe the thoughts and feelings of the person or people involved;

 Try to make your reader share the experience through your choice of words and sentences.

PLAN YOUR ANSWER!

In your writing you should:

 Make your writing interesting for your reader – use verbs, adverbs and

adjectives to achieve effects;

 Present your ideas clearly, organising your writing into paragraphs;

 Write using accurate grammar, spelling and punctuation;

 Include an interesting beginning and ending for your writing.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"But mum..." I whined, mimicking a child's voice.

"Just stay here sweetie," my mother said with her typically predictable smile plastered across her face, "I'll be done in a few hours."

She walked off, her heels making a loud noise on the polished, marble floor as she walked down the desolate hallway that seemed to stretch for miles. Her greying hair was in a neat ponytail that swished from side to side as she strode forward. As she finally faded from sight, I sat back in the cool, hard plastic chair and huffed a sigh. I hated being here so much that I almost wanted to be back at school.

I gazed out of the window at the crisp, white snow as it fell elegantly to the ground. It held a beauty to it that was hard to compete with but, beautiful as it was, the snow was troublesome. The snow was, in fact, the very reason that I had not been at school that day. It had been all over the news about how terrible the snow was going to be this weekend but no one had really anticipated this. The snow had come in fits and starts. First, light and gentle only to be raging a second later.

This morning, I had awoken to a blanket of blinding white covering everything on the street. Hardly anything had been visible under the foot deep coat of icy splendour that trapped citizens inside of their homes. The lorries had come with the men that freed us from imprisonment with their prodigious shovels. Of course, only seconds later had my mum's phone rang with a notification saying that the school was closed due to "adverse weather conditions." At first, I had been ecstatic. Not having to go to school was an absolute treat. That was until I had found out where I would be going that day. "Hooray!" my mum had cheered, "That means that you can come to work with me today!" I had frowned with a dismal expression on my face.

"Come on," she had said, "It won't be that bad." Oh, how she had been wrong.

Now that I watched it, the snow seemed sad, even kind of depressing. It scared people into staying in the cosy confines of their homes, too afraid to venture out into the cold. The absence of life outside sent an eerie chill down my spine and I shivered, though I was warm in the heated facility.

Three years my mum had spent working at this place. It was well known and attracted a lot of attention from the local community, but only a small number of them actually knew what went on in here. Unfortunately, I was not a part of that small number. I had always wondered, of course. What, with my mum working here and everything, it was expected of me. I wasn't going to lie. I was a part of the group of people that searched up all of the conspiracy theories about this place. I had heard about everything from aliens to child experimentation. For years, I had wondered what went on behind all of the closed doors and blacked-out windows but I had grown out of the conspiracy phase just over a year ago.

Now, though, I found myself sitting here, bored. The receptionist desk next to me was occupied by a lady, perhaps thirty years old, who sat talking on the phone in a monotone. She hadn't even looked at me once since I had been forced down onto the chair by my mum, who had walked off to get on with work immediately. Another reason that so many people were suspicious of this place was because of the hours that the people here worked. There wasn't a single second during the day or night where someone wasn't closed away in one of the room, working hard on whatever project they were doing. My mum was no different from any of them. She worked fifteen hours a day – from five in the morning until eight in the evening. On some days, she worked nights, coming home in the early hours of the morning. But what was she doing? Would it really be so bad if I knew? Surely not.

I glanced at the middle-aged woman sitting at the desk and noticed that she was still on the phone. In front of her lay a set of television screens that displayed the footage that the security cameras recorded. Although I couldn't see it very well from where I was sitting, I tried in vain to crane my neck and catch a glimpse of what the receptionist could clearly see. Feeling defeated, I settled back in my chair. I huffed but still didn't attract the attention of the receptionist. Strange, I thought, Why can she not see or hear me when I'm making such a racket? Frowning, I stood up and treaded quietly over to the desk. I was surprised to find that her voice didn't get louder as I approached, but the most startling thing was the barrier that I met when I was only a metre or so away from the desk. "What...?" I muttered under my breath, disbelieving. The glass that surrounded the desk was almost invisible when you didn't know what to look for. The glass was right in front of me but the reason for it being there was unknown.

So, this glass muted sound, did it? This facility seemed to be giving me more and more opportunities with each thing that I found. Smiling, I glanced back at the receptionist one last time before turning away and walking down the corridor.

Minutes later, I still hadn't found any doors as I walked down the sizeable corridor. Finally, I reached a huge, glass door that towered above me. I could see from where I stood that it was empty. Taking a deep breath, I opened the door, that, to my surprise, was open, and stepped inside.

The room was a lab that had rows upon rows of buttons and keypads. On another side of the room was a counter full of bottles and test tubes that all contained strange coloured liquids. They pulled me towards them and I chose one to study. It was a clear blue and was very thin in consistency. I picked it up. On the side of the thick glass that encased it was a small label that said "un-verified". Not having any idea what that meant, I moved onto the next one. This, unlike the first, was a sickly brown and was much thicker. It kind of reminded me of mud.

The atypical liquids began to bore me so I wandered over to a huge panel of controls. Typically, the first thing that I noticed was the huge red button that had a label reading "Release". As tempting as it was, I resisted the urge to press it just to see what would happen. Though, I didn't know what – or who – it would release.

On the table, next to the button, there was a small, black box. It was unmarked and was only as big as the palm of my hand. I cracked open the lid and, inside of it, was a small piece of paper. It was from that moment that everything started to go disastrously wrong. The first thing I noticed was how sweaty my hands were. I fumbled with the piece of paper in the box, trying to get it out. The box slipped out of my hand. It collided with the crimson button and fell to the floor with a crash, making a louder noise than what I had expected. Alarms blared, men and women rushed into the room in a flurry of white coats. In my blind panic, I dropped the piece of paper and ran out of the room, past all of the expression of fear and out into the snow. I never did find out what had been on that piece of paper.

That was the day that the zombie apocalypse started... and it was all my fault.