“Do you have the extra shoes?” I ask, whispering. I stand next to a crouching Gunther, check-list in my hands.

  • Food
  • Flashlight
  • Two backpacks
  • Two sleeping bags
  • First-Aid kit
  • Two walkie-talkies.
  • Matches
  • Extra clothes
  • Shoes
  • Knives
  • Water bottles
  • Ourselves


“Well, that’s everything.” He says, getting up.

I kneel down to double check the backpacks to make sure that everything’s in there. The backpack containing my belongings is black with an orange-red flame on the front. Gunther’s backpack is blue and plaid.

“We forgot the water bottles.” I mumble to myself.

Apparently he hears me, though, because he tosses the check-list on the ground and hurries out of the room. The door quietly closes behind him, making nothing but a click to give him away.

I glance at the neon-blue clock hanging from the wall. It’s 4:30 in the morning. We have 2 hours to finish packing and get out of seeing distance. If we don’t get out of sight by 6:30, dad could see us. I think worriedly. My dad got up every morning at 6:30 to leave for work. He’s a chemistry teacher at our town’s college.

My worry-filled thoughts are interrupted as the door swings back open and he hurries in with two large water bottles in his hands. They’re both dripping wet; A result of filling them sloppily. One is blue and the other is green.

“Here you go.” He says, handing me the green one.

“Thanks.” I reply, taking it and shoving it into my backpack.

I watch him as he puts the blue water bottle in his bag and zips it up. As he struggles to find the match to his shoes, I rifle through my closet in search for a jacket. Grabbing the first one I find, I put it on.

“Are we ready, now?” I ask. Gunther is triple-checking the backpacks.

“Yup, everything’s in here.” He replies, throwing his backpack over his shoulder and grabbing his sleeping bag. “Your stuff is ready to go and on your bed.” He adds, waving his hand towards my belongings.

I nod a thank you to him and grab my stuff. Nervousness is flooding through me. I feel light-headed and sick to my stomach. I wonder if he feels this way, too. I steal a glance at him. He’s standing at the bedroom door with a confident look on his face.

“Ready?” He asks.

“Ready.” I reply, my voice wavering.

I allow him to take the lead and I quickly follow him. We walk out the back door, silently shutting it behind us. Where will we stop? Will we see humans, other than each other, again? I shrug the thoughts away quickly. 

The End

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