Mrs. Rose Woke up and cleaned her rusty but modest home.
She did this every morning. Helen usually did this, but ever since she left, Mrs. Rose has taken over.
The house felt lonely with only her. She had no friends, no relatives, only TV.
She walked around with a fluffy brush in her hand. She dusted the flat transparent glass TV etched on the wall.
She took her time dusting the TV, although no dirt could be seen on it.
She did this because it was the only thing that kept her company for all this while, and the last thing she wanted was for it to gather dust.
After cleaning that, she dusted a photo placed on top of a stool.
She picked the picture up and dusted it gently with care, as if it would chatter if she put any pressure on it.
In the picture, a man in a blue military uniform stood in the background with other military men.
The man had strong jaw lines, a deep set of eyes, and a square face.
A smile slowly formed on Mrs. Rose's lips as she stared at the picture. She used her thumb to make circles around the man's face. Then a teardrop fell on the man's face.
"I'm sorry, sorry," she said as she used her thumb to wipe the picture.
If one saw her like this, one would probably think she had gone insane.
The man in the picture is her husband, and Helen's father. She had become obsessed with him ever since his disappearance.
If she watched the news or anything, she would always place the picture beside her, close to her heart, and sometimes talk to it.
After what seemed like a full five minutes, she finally placed the picture down. Then, she picked it up again and kissed the man before she walked away.
She walked to the kitchen, brought out the coffee machine, and made coffee for herself. She went out after she felt more awake.
She didn't encounter anyone since their house location had no other houses.
Her husband had initially built there on purpose. He planned to keep his family safe from the outside world, and over the years it had done just that.
Once in a while, some lazy folks attacked their house, but because of Helen's teleportation ability, they were able to take them out before sending them to the WMO police department.
She was able to take care of them because they were mostly thugs who didn't help themselves in training.
Mrs. Rose always had a gentle smile any time she came into town. She gazed at the countless people who filled the streets. She stared at the sky, watching the various floating ads on billboards.
The air felt lively in this part of the city. She walked towards a train and boarded it.
The train didn't move on the ground as one would expect. Instead, several large, transparent tubes were built. The train drove inside these tubes, and these tubes were connected in the air in one straight line.
The tubes were suspended in the air with no pillars of any sort.
These tubes did the job of an airplane effectively.
She entered the train and sat down with several more people. She pulled her phone out and scrolled to the latest broadcast.
The broadcast was about the world leader's speech at the academy.
This video has gone viral on the internet ever since it was uploaded, and Mrs. Rose also took it seriously. Apparently, everyone did.
"All passengers should please put on their seat belts." A loud announcement resounded, but before the announcement came, many of them had already had their belts on.
They were not kids to be told what to do. After all, this wasn't their first time riding on the train.
The announcer waited for a while before hitting a button, and with a Vroom sound, the train raced down the tube.
The train moved so fast that one wouldn't be able to see it from the outside.
Mrs. Rose looked out through the window, staring at the wonderful landscape.
"Humans have come a long way," Mrs. Rose muttered to herself.
"You think so too?" A tattoo-riddled man said.
Mrs. Rose flashed a smile at this comment.
The man sat at the front with another man who had similar tattoos to him.
The train had only two seats per line, and the two men sat at the front.
Mrs. Rose sat alone, but she liked it like this.
She averted her gaze back to the window and continued her viewing.
"Your first time?" the man asked again.
"No-no," she said.
She didn't like the vibes she was getting from these guys.
They looked like thugs with black ink piercings all over their faces. They looked like characters straight out of an old-era movie.
"These guys are bad," she thought to herself.
The man seemed persistent. He tried to initiate another conversation.
"You seemed familiar. Have we met before? "
"No, I don't think so."
Mrs. Rose stared out again.
" These guys are bad," she finally concluded.
Her guts and the one grey strand weren't just for show.
She had had similar encounters before, so she knew these guys had ulterior motives.
You hardly see tattoo-riddled men walking around. They're mostly lackeys of some powerful individual.
So she wondered who she had offended. Maybe all this was just inside her head.
Either way, she continued to stare out.
The man saw the suspicious look on Mrs. Rose's face, so he didn't push the conversation any further.
20 smooth drives later, the train stopped.
Mrs. Rose walked out first. She wanted to test her theory. She walked into a business district that has several high-rise glass buildings and shops.
She walked into a shop that displayed mannequins with clothes.
She stared at the cloth and rubbed it as if she were going to make a purchase.
She peered out of the window that displayed the clothes. The men from the train stood outside, acting like bystanders.
"Hey, are you buying anything?" The female sales girl screamed from the counter.
"Sorry, I can't find what am looking for." She flung the glass doors open and walked out.
She wanted to break into a run, but the men looked agile and younger than her.
"What do I do?" She moved her eyes everywhere.
She rushed to a train station and hopped in, but immediately after she entered, the men also walked in.
"At least, they would not do anything here." She thought.
After some time, the train stopped when it got to her neighborhood.
"I could've gone to the cops." She blamed herself, but she had already reached home.
She bolts in and shuts the door. She pulled her phone out to make a call, but
KNOCK KNOCK.
****
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