I'm at the uni cos' the internet at home is going through that time of the month.I don't have much time to dwell on petty matters,there's a planet to save for god's sake!But I'm sure my compatriots can manage the giant dinomonkeys and robot Martians surreptitiously disguised as clueless old hags,backs bent and bespectacled eyes to the ground,waiting to pounce on any unknowing human who approaches even with good intentions,well.So for the next few minutes,I'll put my good ol' cape and detachable metal fangs aside,if only to update you on how the non-hero part of my life's been going.
Late last night as I was looking out the window,reflecting the years that have past and contemplating the future and it's depressing lack of clarity-three knocks on my door roused me to awareness,pulling me back to reality.I opened the door,and there was On-with his right finger in the air and an eerie,but amusing grin on his face:"Al,I have a plan",he says with a glowing air of confidence,and for a moment I imagine us being refugee secret agents,on the run after some of our corrupted top-level executives had fake clues planted in order to frame us for the murder of an important government official.
"Shh,you idiot!We're being hunted down remember?Code names!",I whisper harshly,brushing my fake moustache off and ushering him in before checking the corridors as a safety measure.I rush to the windows to pull them down,but before I could reach them my mobile phone rings-both of us startled,eyes still as the phone screen blinked blight red.
On looks to me,his fingers nervously curl into fists-"Who knows we're here?"-my mind immediately dives into motion,trying to recall if I had accidentally handed out dangerous information to anyone during the past few days we've been on the run-information,that could possibly kill us if it landed in the wrong hands.
My thoughts reached a dead end,I was convinced I hadn't slipped-years of training under impossibly gruelling conditions shaped our survival skills and instincts,and accidents of any kind were rare and we were taught to be cautious,some going to bed with knives tucked under their pillows-fearing death in sleep,after morbid stories of such became widely spread during the early 90's,but the most formidable enemy for any agent would be his or her own callousness-blunders costs lives,second chances were non-existent.
"I haven't been in contact with anyone,have you?",I replied.Just then a flight of bullets broke through the window noisily,hitting the walls as both of us fell to the floor. I ducked behind the sofa next to me,in doing so one of the window's many broken pieces pierced thinly into my left arm-oddly it felt painless,another sensation was taking over me.The feeling of something hot and soft flowing over my face,a wetness I found both excruciating and comforting.
"You've been hit!",a strange but vaguely familiar voice rose above the calamity,approaching from outside were the thunderous sounds of a helicopter.Disorientated and losing touch of my surroundings,my body felt weak and my fingers felt powerless-twitching even as I tried to keep them still.
"Al?Here's my new plan-we break the lease in two months,then find new tena....",my hand to the door fell lightly,and even as he trailed on a certain numbness took over and slowly settling in was the feeling of utmost paranoia,then release,and finally a strange numbness and quiet.
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