Chapter 1
“We don’t choose to be special, destiny forces it upon us. Nobody wants to be different, because that means being an outcast, exiled from society, but when we look back over history, is it not the special people, the ones that stand out from the crowd, that end up changing the world, the future, for the better, or sometimes the worse. It’s these choices we make that define our lives, our legacies. It’s a pretty scary thing when you wake up and realise that you can change the world.”There’s the sound of knocking, and a door swings open. In walks a smartly dressed lady holding a teapot and a tray containing a couple of pieces of toast.
“Good morning, Prime Minister,” the lady says with a broad smile on her face, which looked to unnatural to be anything but fake.
The PM replies simply by nodding his head, as the women walks in and places the tray on top of his lap top. She quickly scans over his writing, quite interested by it.
“Is that what you were reading?” once more the PM nods. “It sounds very interesting, sir.”
She pours him a cup of tea, as he scratches the stubble he’d been growing for the past few days. “Yeah, I’ve been working on it for the past few weeks.”
“So it’s a work in progress then, sir.”
“Yeah…you could call it that.”
She puts the tea pot on the tray and heads towards the door.
“I wouldn’t mind a read when you’re finished, sir, if that’s okay with you.”
“Yeah, that’d be fine,” the woman goes to leave, “and for the last time, call me Adam!”
The door closes and leaves the Prime Minister to go back to his work.
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People were panicking, there were flames everywhere. The bus had come out of nowhere and hit straight into a fuel tanker, that was there filling up someone’s oil supplies. The driver of the bus was killed instantly, vaporised as soon as the fuel exploded, but luckily, there was only a few other people in the bus, sitting towards the back of the bus. The flames had engulfed everywhere; the houses nearby set alight, as if they had been soaked in petrol. Onlookers could hear the cries of the people trapped in the bus, some dieing out, with all hope was lost, when three people dressed in bright colours appeared out of nowhere. The people watching cheered, as if they knew what was happening.
“Stand back!” the yellow coloured hero addressed the crowd, as the one in red went over to a drain pipe and pulled it, and the ground around it, out with minimal ease. The female, in blue, put her hands in the air, aimed towards the drain. The water rose up from the drain, and went towards the women, which she then preceded to make it go on to the flames on the bus. The guy in red then ripped off the side of the bus, and the yellow guy, disappeared, quickly returning with an old woman in his arms.
There’s an explosion from one of the houses, and the guy in red is thrown back, the metal on the bus closing, so there’s only a small gap left. The guy in yellow quickly goes back, as the women tries in vain to put out the fire. In side the bus the guy in the yellow costume sees two people, a small, young girl whose being held by a blonde, middle aged man sitting in the corner, whose rocking backwards and forwards, crying. The guy in yellow tries to pick them both up, but in vain as he falls back, singeing his arm.
“Take the girl!” the other man shouts, clearly terrified.
“The tanker is gonna blow! I can’t leave you here to die!”
“GO!” he shouts back, and before he realises he’s gone, the yellow guy has run away.
He puts the girl down, and turns back when he sees that the bus is melting away. He tells the girl to stop and the three quickly vamoose, not wanting any attention.
Back inside the bus, the man is sitting in the back seat, but is no longer crying, realising his fate is decided. Everything starts to darken as a mixture of the black smoke given off, and the bus melting on top of him create a shadow all around the accident area. He feels the darkness consume him as he prepares to die.
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She knew she was sad, but what she had done last night had been unforgivable. It was only a year ago that they had gotten their divorce, and Juliet had the stupidity to ring him up and ask if he could comfort her. She had been feeling bad, her mother passed away only last week, and she just felt so alone. She only wanted someone she had loved to comfort her, but of course, David being David could never just be there for her, he needed something in return. So after they had had a couple of the bottles of champagne, that David had gotten to celebrate his promotion, he decided to take advantage of her. Had she remembered more of it, then she might have considered it to have been rape, but David was lucky, and she had enough of the wine, so that she didn’t remember any of it, only the morning afterwards.
She got up, wrapping herself with her nighty, and went in to the bathroom, sitting on top of the toilet, trying to remember what had happened. Flashes of them both kept coming to her, and they, along with the alcohol, made her throw up on the tiled floor. Ashamed of herself, she got in the shower, and turned it on, trying desperately to wash the stink of him off of herself. It was not until she tried to touch her face that she realised something was wrong. In stead of feeling her warm skin touch her face, all she felt was cold water. She moved her eyes to look at her hand and screamed, waking a dazed David.
David got up and walked, naked, towards the source of the screaming. He banged on the door, and shouted out, “You alright in there?” not really caring about the answer, as he expected that she just had a spot or some other lady trouble. In fact the last thing he expected was for Juliet to scream “HELP!” back. For some reason he just clicked into action, kicking away at the door. He kept hearing her scream, and that only motivated him more. After about twenty seconds of smashing at the door, the lock gave way, and the door swung open. He rushed inside, hearing a scream fade, pulling back the shower curtain. Puzzled, he looked around as the shower was empty. Turning off the shower, he put it down to some sick prank she was playing on him, and he went back to the bedroom, getting changed for work, as the last remains of water trickled down the plug hole.
