I ran. As fast as I could. I stumbled and tripped, dirtying my jeans, but I didn't care - I wanted to get to the building. It was gray and cube-shaped, like a big workhouse. When I finally reached the building, the big heavy doors were locked. Not surprised. Luckily, I noticed a smashed window not that high up and managed to pull myself through. I wanted to know if there was anyone else alive. 

     The interior of the workhouse was also gray, with lights on the ceiling - or what I guess were lights. Many were shattered or flickering. There was a staircase on the other side of the room, and other than that, the room was bare.

      "Hello?" I shouted. My voice echoed throughout the empty space. Nothing. I decided to make my way to the staircase. 

      I walked up the staircase and noticed that the room it led to was filled with an orange light. Fire!! I hurried up the steps, but before I could walk into the room, a pair of hands grabbed my shoulders and bolted me to the wall. One hand let go, but the other continued to hold me in a death grip.

     Next thing I knew, I was staring down the tunnel of a gun. "Who are you?!" A male voice shouted. "How did you get here?!" The sound of his voice told me that he was about my age. Around the gun, I could see that he was wearing a black hoodie, the hood of which was draped over his face. I'm really not the only one alive!

"ANSWER ME!!!" His hands dug deeper into my shoulders.

"I...I mean..." I stuttered.

"Are you one of them?!" He shouted.

"One of wh-" "ANSWER. MY. QUESTION."

I raised my hands to show I was unarmed. "My name is Crystal Lamont, I come from Exeter. Or...what was Exeter." 

"Are you human?!" 

"Wha- I- Yes! What else would I be?"

     He slowly lowered the gun and let me go. My shoulders relaxed, but I stayed against the wall. He pulled back his hood.

     It was still hard to make out his face in the dim firelight. I could see that he had mussed brown hair and scared brown eyes. I didn't know if he could be trusted.

"Crystal, was it?"

"Uhhh...yeah."

"Patrick." he extended a hand.

He laughed when he saw the hesitant look on my face. "You can trust me."

Wha- I- WHAT?! Is that a thing now, where you just go up to someone, tell them you can trust them, and they're like "OHHHH OKAY LET'S PARTY"?!

     I awkwardly chuckled, smiled, and shook his hand.

Awk-ward si-lence, *clap, clap, clap clap clap*. We sort of just stared at each other for a few seconds. It was kind of freaky.

"How do I know I can trust you?" I blurted.

     Patrick laughed again. " Fine, if I must:" He raised his hands as if proving himself innocent, and mock-testified: "Patrick Lawrence. 15. Portsmouth, New Hampshire, USA." 

    I couldn't help but chuckle. Even if I couldn't completely trust him, I knew we'd get along for the time being.