Gary was a scientist. Not a normal scientist. He didn’t wear a fancy lab coat, instead he wore a goofy jumpsuit from the 80s. He was as arrogant as an overbearing politician. He was trying to prove that gravity wasn’t real. He lived in a bright pink cottage covered in graffiti. Every night at exactly 21:56 he would tilt his head upwards and stare into nothingness. As the years passed the people of St. Louis built a roundabout there. In a fit of rage, Gary let a roar out of him. Haughtily, he would stand there, tilting his head upwards and never moving.
“Lights out!” roared the guard.
Earlier that day, I secretly snatched the keys off the guard. I cautiously sauntered across the cells, keeping my eye out for guards. I could see a dark grey pipe and it looked to be never-ending. It was my only hope. I dived headfirst into it and started crawling. The smell was pungent. I had no flashlight so I didn’t really know where I was going. I could just about make out a carcass of a dead rat. I was wet. I figured it was sewerage.
“Finally, the end,” I sighed with relief.
I got out and I could see an old dusty car. I could hear the sirens going off. I pressed my foot against the pedal and groaned when it just wouldn’t take off...
I could hear a loud, alarming voice in the distance. I had to find out what it was. My parents had warned me to never go past the Potter’s house, but curiosity got the better of me. I quickly hopped onto my bicycle in a desperate effort to get there in time. In the distance, I could see a vast amount of houses but one stood out in particular. I could see the dried- out yellow grass in the garden, and on it a massive brown rottweiler. I could see its bulging, red eyes staring into mine. It darted towards me and greedily bit my leg. “AARGH!!”.
I always wondered, what was in that house. I was going to find out tonight. It was an ancient, black, wooden house with all the windows boarded up. I swiftly skedaddled across the road, making sure no one spotted me. I slowly twisted the handle and the door creaked open. I arrived at a long, eerie corridor. I turned on my flashlight. My heart was thumping inside me like a drum. The smell was of damp and decay. I could hear myself breathing heavily. I tiptoed cautiously. My flashlight started flickering. I could feel the sweat trickling down my spine. I reached a door half off its hinges. I shoved it open. Then everything stopped and the door slammed shut…
“We need to recruit more members,” I whispered.
“That lad over there doesn’t look bad,” replied Marcus.
Later on I sauntered over to him and asked a few questions. I was about to let him in until he said he was a trainee.
“I’m sorry but we are a doctor-only organisation.”
You could see the misery in his eyes. I could feel the weight of the guilt pressing against me.
“Actually alright, you can try out.”
There were realistic electronic dummies that needed saving and he saved them. We let him in and he saved hundreds of ‘real’ lives. So we built a statue outside the hospital to show what a good doctor he was.