The tragic story of Lawrence Maxwell

The night was cold, as per usual. Lawrence stood in a park, overlooking the bright lights the city emitted. Checking his phone he glimpsed at the time, twenty more minutes. He had been waiting for over an hour now, eagerly awaiting his beloved girlfriend, Hannah.

Why had he been waiting so long? It was to celebrate his seventh birthday. He was happy, not he was at peace. These last years had been hell for him, but he believed that now everything would truly be alright.

Not the first time I've thought this.

Once again checking the time he heard footsteps from behind, turning around in joy he spoke "Hannah you're here."

To his dismay it wasn't Hannah. Instead a middle aged man whose face was shrouded in a hoddie appeared. Lawrence could instantly tell it wasn't Hannah due to the physical appearance of the person standing before him.

Hannah stood at 5ft11 and had a fairly skinny physique while this man was around 6ft and had a bulky body.

"Sorry, wrong person" he turned around, embarrassed.

Again looking at the dazzling lights he had expected the man to simply walk off. To his surprise he heard footsteps closing in towards him.

Did he want something?

Turning around he was caught off guard as a sharp pain entered his gut.

"Huh?" Lawrence said in confusion.

His vision began to grow blurry, with darkness engulfing his eyesight.

"I'm sorry" the man whispered.

The man drove the knife deeper causing Lawrence to squirm. After giving a final twist, he quickly pulled the knife out.

"AHHHHH" Lawrence screamed.

At first he couldn't feel the pain, but he knew it was there. But with every passing second the sharp pain began to appear until it was finally taken out, leaving an even larger pain.

Lawrence attempted to close the wound with both his hands, applying pressure, a foolish effort.

"I'm sorry..."

Looking straight in the man's face, he saw tears streaming down his own. Immediately after being spotted, he ran off, into the darkness.

Lawrence could do nothing but groan and wait for his inevitable death. His breathing was heavy and his body was hastily losing energy.

This is how it ends?

Lawrence's entire life was filled with nothing but sadness and pain since the moment he first opened his eyes to greet the world.

With world war three beginning, countless countries were victim to the murder of humans. One such country enveloped in war was Lawrence's homeland, America.

His first five years of existence was hell. As the American government became victim to the casualties of world war three, Lawrence and his parents became subjugated to the militia forces that occupied America.

Despite the war, the killings, the tragedies Lawrence still had a hope to cling on, his parents. The war torn country was unmistakably hell, but it was through both of his kind parents that he was able to endure it.

He couldn't remember their faces, but he stilled remembered their smiles and their words.

"Grow up to be a good person, Lawrence!" this was often told to Lawrence, his parents wanted nothing more than to end the cursed war.

They were both doctors, Lawrence's parents. When the war had finally set their sights on America, the two of them saved countless lives, free of charge. They were your model heroes.

Lawrence didn't quite understand at the time, but he looked up to them. He wished when he grew up to be just like them, saving lives and doing everything for the greater good.

Deeply he loved them. Fate however cruelly took his parents away from the young Lawrence. In an attempt to treat wounded rebels who wanted to rid themselves of the militia, they were blown to bits.

Their hidden camp where Lawrence's parents often went to treat wounded men, women and children was discovered by the militia. In a raid, almost everyone was slaughtered, with only a handful of lucky people able to escape.

During the massacre, Lawrence's parents were shot and killed, but collapsed on top of Lawrence, shielding him from the militia and hiding him.

He couldn't remember how long he hid beneath the bloody corpses of his two cherished loved ones. His cries were muffled by the gunshots and screams. How long he stayed hidden, he couldn't remember but he did remember feeling each second as hell.

Unable to leave his parents alone, he stayed at the camp, cuddled up into a ball beside his parents. On the verge of death from starvation and dehydration, he was saved by his grandfather who had come to investigate the camp.

After giving a proper burial, Lawrence lived with his grandfather. Sick of the war, he wished to leave the god forsaken country, to a new land, a paradise.
His grandfather agreed he too wanted to leave. Successfully they were able to board a ship that would take them across the ocean to Britain, where they would restart their lives.

The first few days were smooth and peaceful. However on the fourth day, they were caught in a naval battle between Germany and United Kingdom.

The end result was over eighty percent of the ships inhabitants dying, with only a few able to make it out on life boats.

Luckily Lawrence and his grandfather were able to make it out alive. With dwindling food and slow travels, he thought that this would finally be the time he died.

As the sun began to rise, Lawrence peaked out into the ocean, seeing in the distance land. Overcome with joy he used what little energy he had left to celebrate.

At first he thought his grandfather was merely sleeping, but as hours flew by he noticed one crucial thing: he hadn't moved the entire time.

Even with the realisation he still believed his grandfather was still alive. He waited and waited and continued waited, but his eyes never once peaked open nor did a single finger move.

Now living in Britain, he spent four years in an orphanage. Many of the other children were also victim to the war, they too losing their parents.

At first Lawrence was quiet, always keeping to himself just as the other kids were. Little by little the orphans began to talk amongst each other, and before anyone of them realised, they were laughing and having fun.

Although at night the children still cried and mourned their loved ones, the day was filled with bright and happy smiles.

Lawrence believed that this was a new beginning, that he would now find peace. This however was too good to be true.

At the time, a growing cult in Britain began to raise, a cult that believed that God was telling humanity to kill one another in order to reach heaven.
During the early stages of the cult's establishment, they were scorned upon by the rest of Britain. Slowly, their numbers began to rise, as they recruited those who had lost their minds to the war and were seeking anything to cling on to.

Surprisingly there were many people like that, people who wanted hope, wanted something they could put their all into.

In the beginning they were pacifists who encouraged death but didn't kill anyone themselves. This was until a cult member accidently murdered a person, accidently pulling the trigger to a string of murders.

Taking things into their own hands, the cult would secretly murder ordinary civilians. Breaking into their homes, abducting them, their beliefs were stronger than ever.

With the government occupied with the war, they were unable to spend what little resources they had on stopping the cult.

The cult grew bigger and bigger as more and more people fell victim. The more they killed, the more ways the found to kill.

No longer were they about sending people to heaven, they rejoiced in the death of humans. Their methods of murder became more gruesome and horrific, even taking punishments from medieval times and applying it to humans.

Lawrence and his orphan friends were too nae to understand the events happening around them. They were too entranced in their peace to realise something odd was going on, or perhaps they were just too young.

In a single day, the murders that were only ever ten at max a month, swept Britain off of its feet. During the dead of night, the cult went out in groups, torturing and killing ordinary folk. The orphanage Lawrence was one of the casualties.

Lawrence could nothing but hide in terror as he saw his friends killed right before his eyes. They were dismembered, burned and simply stabbed to death. The events lasted until morning.

The government was finally able to capture the entire cult, with only a few slipping away. Lawrence was only nine at the time, but wished to leave everything behind, to forget the painful things he saw.
He left Britain, and along with many others migrated to Australia. Australia was one of the few countries that wasn't involved in the war and was considered a peaceful one.

He'd doubt he would find peace even in a country such as this one, but nonetheless he hoped that he would.

He was adopted by foster parents who they too lost their children in the war. He attended school for the first time ever in his life, something that brought great happiness to him.

Lawrence was cold and uncaring in the beginning, always giving short answers and mumbling whenever he talked.

The years past and he found himself friendless, and before he could realise he was already fifteen years old in high school.

Still friendless, keeping to him during school he was for the first time in a long time, befriended by a girl named Hannah.

As cold as ever, he ignored her not caring for what she had to say or offer. But her persistence in talking to him slowly intrigued him.

In these times of war finding someone so energetic and cheerful was rare, especially in teenagers. Slowly, he started to form proper sentences and slowly his smile devolved.

He was able to befriend more and more people, and was soon surrounded by laughing faces, exactly as the time he was still in the orphanage.

When he had mustered all of his courage and confessed his love to Hannah, he'd expected to be shot down and rejected. He prepared his heart for her rejection but was surprised to see her acceptance.

"If you're fine with me, then I don't mind."

Those words were imprinted into Lawrence. He was happy, truly happy. Although it may have been wishful thinking, he thought that this time he would receive the peace and happiness he so rightly deserved.
One year and half went by and he waited for Hannah at the park where they had scheduled to meet each other.

October the 18th was the date, but when it turned midnight it would be October the 19th signalling his birthday.

Hannah had wanted to be the first to congratulate him, so she convinced him to meet her at midnight at the park that overlooked the city lights.

"My life is shit" Lawrence whispered

He heard running footsteps.

Hannah?

Using the last of his energy, he saw a teary eyed Hannah who seemed to be shouting something, although Lawrence was unable to hear her.

She grabbed her phone accidently dropping it as her body frantically shake.

"Hi" he whispered, unsure if she had heard him or not.

It was too much, his consciousness was dying out and his body was now useless. Slowly he closed his eyes, embracing the darkness.

In his final moment he thought, I wish ... I wish...

His thoughts were cut off, unable to speak, hear or even think. There was nothing but darkness.

Slowly his eyes opened; slowly the sounds reappeared, his sight being restored. It was muffled but he could hear it, the sounds of gunshot, how could he ever forget.

In shock he opened his eyes widely, embracing the view that lay before him. He had long forgotten it all but the buildings and atmosphere helped bring back what he forgot.

He remembered these buildings, these gunshots, and the smoke filled air. It was exactly as back then, 12 years ago. The place he was born and raised, America, California, the place his parents died.

"What?" he whispered.