Page 9 of Lotus

My Syd was a fabrication.

My Syd was an artificial companion brought to life by my insatiable need to quell the loneliness.

I created her with the lead from my pencil tip and my own imagination.

Queen of the Lotus.

I shake my head, overwhelmed and splintering at the seams. It’s too much. It’s all too much. I don’t know how to function in a world so vast, so cluttered and loud. I can’t decipher what’s real, whatreallyexisted before Bradford took me beneath the soil and fed me lies. I can’t differentiate between a memory, a dream, and a tall tale.

I trusted Bradford. I thought he was my caretaker. My protector.

Myhero.

I feel betrayed in the worst way.

Resting my head against the wall, I try to wrangle my unsteady breaths and zone out. I go back to my cave and sit Indian-style on the green rug, munching on crackers, a newly sharpened pencil in my hand. My mind comes alive with colors, adventures, and thrilling villains to defeat.

I much prefer the monsters I create myself.

I prefer them because I always win.

“It’s bad out there, Oliver. Real bad.”

I’m chewing on a granola bar, watching as the man called Bradford climbs down the metal steps, wearing a strange yellow suit. It looks to be made of plastic and zippers. He looks like he’s about to go trick-or-treating, but it can’t be Halloween yet. I’ve only been down here for about a week…I think. Maybe I should start tallying the days on the stone wall beside the letters of my name.

Bradford sighs deeply. “There’s been a nuclear attack. The air outside is toxic.”

I’m not sure what nuclear means, but it doesn’t sound so good.

“But you said I could go home soon. You said you just needed a few days to think about stuff. Does this mean I can’t go home yet?”

Oh, no. My mom must be so worried about me.

“I’m afraid you won’t be able to go home for a very long time, Oliver. It’s not safe out there.”

My bottom lip quivers. “How long? The whole summer?”

Bradford approaches with caution, his face hidden behind a weird mask that makes him breathe funny. “There’s a war outside. There are hardly any survivors.”

“Survivors?”

“They’re dead, Oliver. Most of the population has been annihilated… everyone except the ones who prepared for this,” he explains. “Like us.”

My brain has trouble understanding, his words registering murky and slow. “When will the air be better?”

“I don’t know… maybe never.” He pulls his mask off and massages his chin. “I saved your life, kid. I had a feeling this day was coming. I just knew it.”

A gulp.

Maybe never.

“I don’t want to live down here forever, mister…” It’s a whimper, a worried plea. “Maybe I can hold my breath outside and make it home okay.”

“No,” he snaps. “You can’t go home. It’s dangerous. From now on, you’ll stay down here and I’ll do what I can to make you as comfortable as possible. My own bunker is right next door, and I have a kitchen in mine. I’ll bring you fresh food when I can.”

I do miss eggs and bacon.

Bradford paces the cement floor, hands on his hips. “I’ll be gone a lot. When my food supply runs out, I’ll need to locate more. This could take days of dangerous travel.”

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