The Red Rose

Prologue
I sprinted across an open field as the Fall came closer. I had been running for almost an hour now and was near collapse. Lee had run off somewhere along the way, and I hoped the Fall hadn’t claimed her. Just as I stumbled, a giant robot arm scooped me up. I must have passed out, because when I woke up I was in a steel room with only a bolted door for an exit. It’s not like I could have reached the door anyway, because I was chained down to a bed. Almost immediately, someone in a black hooded cloak came in. They said, “You’re up.”
# Whelp, the world is going to end.
An alert flashed on Dad’s phone telling him to turn the TV on. This had never happened before, but we turned it on anyway (which in hindsight was a very bad idea. It could have been a scammer or bug of some sort) and an emergency report came on.
“Scientists have discovered that the world is falling apart, starting at the North Pole.” The reporter said. “We have made preparations for apocalyptic situations like this. We are enacting Apocalypse Plan 13, but we still have more preparations to make. However, you can pre-book your seats at www.evac.com. This concludes our emergency report.” 
Dad panicked and got out his phone. After fumbling with it way too many times, he got on to evac.com and booked us some seats. The seats looked comfortable. Well as comfortable as a spaceship can be. Mom panicked less, but not by a lot. She started muttering about the things we’d need to pack. I’m not sure, but I think I heard her say that we needed to bring our textbooks. Why do you need textbooks when the world is going to end? Besides, from what I’d seen on evac.com there was a weight limit and textbooks would take up a lot of weight. 
While we were packing, the news came on. The reporter reviewed the previous broadcast and then went on to inform us that there were no more pre-bookable seats available, and that scientists were calling this “natural disaster” The Fall. Then the TV shut off.
This had never happened before so, naturally, my brother and I freaked out. My dad explained that this had happened in emergencies like this. When I asked dad why the TV came on, its own instead of flashing an alert on his phone, he said that not enough people had tuned in to the first broadcast so they turned on all of the TVs and continued the broadcast. 
Once my curiosity was satisfied, I continued packing. I had made a list of everything I’d need. I still had to pack my shirts and an extra phone. After we finished packing we turned on the TV to keep track of the Fall as it happened. At least that meant I wouldn’t have to panic if the TV came on, on its own. 
Within the week, we learned about the new planet we were being sent to, “Earth.” The currency we’d use, how to function on the new “Earth”, and how to function on the interspace colony. (Do you call it a colony if there is no land to own?) Then we headed to the launch pad. The only problem? The rocket wasn’t there.
2. Being 30 minutes early did nothing.
I panicked. Not gonna lie. I freaked out and maybe set off the car alarm. My very jumbled thought process went something like this.
Oh my gosh oh my gosh oh gosh. If the spaceship isn’t here we won’t be able to get off the planet. If we can’t get off-planet we’ll lose everything and die! “IM TO YOUNG TO DIE!” Oops. I’d said that out loud.
	“Calm down.” my other said.
“How can I calm down!” I yelled. “We’re stuck on a self-destru-” I was cut off by a loud rumbling shaking the ground. I turned around in my seat and saw a giant thing with the spaceship on its back. It was crawling super slowly towards the launch pad. That’s when I realized: “You got us here a half an hour early!?” I yelled at Dad. 
“Yes, but we would have not made it on board the ship if we got here any later,” Dad explained. 
“We have tickets, they would have let us on!” I exclaimed. 
“The seats are first-come, first-serve. They allow you on only if you have a ticket, but if you come at boarding time you probably won’t make it on.” 
“Ohhhh,’ I said, relieved. “That makes sense. But I’m still annoyed that we got here so early.”
Fifteen minutes later, we’re standing in line for the rocket, and near the end of the line. This makes Dad nervous, but I’m too busy playing with the little girl behind us. 
After waiting what seemed like an eternity, we got to the front of the line and I waved my ticket at the scanner and waited for the rest of my brother. The guy scanning the tickets asks me if my brother has a ticket. I confidently say no, sure, that since he is so small he will be allowed on. But then I hear the guy at the security desk say,
“I’m sorry ma'am but your son doesn’t have a ticket; he can’t go on the rocket.” I froze. My brother couldn’t get on the ship. I speak up and say 
“My brother can go in place of me!”
The guard took my ticket and let me say good-bye to my brother.
My family is safe, but I’m not.
In progress
please tell me what you think