All Mine Forever

It had been 3 weeks since the bombs rained down. I had eaten a couple dogs and was feeling completely insane. I was numb. Being alone was the worst part. I was cleaning up the pool after the annual pool party when it hit. My body naturally dove into the water. Somehow it felt like my instincts knew I could not come up for air for several minutes. Because of swimming I knew how to hold my breath for 4 minutes at most. That day I swear it felt like I was down there for hours. The thoughts began racing as my vision became more and more closed. My family had to be dead, my friends, everyone. Everything that lives in my soul is gone. The loneliness nearly made me end it then. I had never even been camping. How was I going to live. All the worry and pain pushed me further and further under. Finally, I had to come up to breath. I realized that the biological will to live must be so deep rooted into our subconscious there's no way I could not live. As I pushed my thoughts to the back of my mind I noticed reality. Reality was despair. Everything was gone. Bits and pieces of my soul everywhere. 

I was wrong. This is what loneliness felt like. I was crying gasping for air but no tears came. Just screams and sobs and gasps. But then that will to live crept back in and even though I didn’t want it I had to listen to it. Soaking wet, I walked, and kept walking. Until I found a somewhat still together structure. I realized it was the childcare center about 10 minutes into sitting under it. Not even bones. I went on weeks like this. Sad, sitting on top of most likely baby ashes. I ate whatever was still left. One day I found a whole protein bar. It was the happiest I have probably ever felt. Then I starved for 3 days after that. I started to make weapons and occasionally ran across a knife or two. I felt like a rodent. Like I shouldn’t have survived but I did. As if I myself were going to be here when the next species comes along. They would be trying to kick me out of their house this time. Now wouldn’t that be weird. There were a few rodent dogs as well. Becoming cannibals and eating each other and fighting over the few birds and mice they could find. I joined the fun eventually. Began using my weapons to kill a few and ate them raw because I didn’t know how to start a fire. Or even cook before this. 

I think the lack of the fire is how I started to notice I was being watched. He was careful though. Barely ever made any noise in the rocks around the building. I thought it was my mind playing tricks on me honestly. I had felt so alone for so long my mind was giving me an imaginary friend. I kept going feeling watched and convincing myself it was all in my mind for a week. 

That was until I saw the footprint next to the entrance to my rumbled childcare home. I saw it as clear as the next day after the bomb. A foot straight into the mud. Somehow I knew he'd be in there. Waiting for me. Was he a cannibal too ? Like the dogs had become ? Were we dogs now ? I also felt so lonely that even if he was going to kill me I still wanted to at least see someone and have company in my last moments before death. 

So I walked in. My knife is out and ready. Holding it in a fashion my dad would have laughed at. He’s dead. I look around and finally I see him. He is asleep. On what I use as a bed. Which is just some stacked up blankets and a stuffed animal that's half burnt up. In shock I crept quietly towards him. I watched him for hours. His whole body had different scrapes and scratches and we were both filthy. I guess we could go to the lake. I kept seeing this small rock in the scrape on his left knee. I felt like it was staring at me begging me to get it out of his injury. So slowly I began to tug it out. It was gross everything was oozing out of his injuries. We had only been bombed 3 weeks ago where he had been and did I want him around. While I was thinking and fishing out this rock I heard him say “are you real?” It was weird. I had been replaying conversations in my head for weeks. But suddenly I could not talk. I had forgotten the whole English language. Finally I said “I’m real.” He just blinked and looked at me. After that interaction I guess we decided to be together. Not like that. Just together. His wounds were all on the verge of being infected so I gathered all my so called belongings and we began the hike to the river. He walked pretty far away from me. I think he was nervous or something. He seemed weak. Really really weak. 

We finally arrived at the lake and he collapsed onto the ground. I thought he was just tired at first but then I realized he was really blacked out. He was halfway into the water so while he was passed out I began to clean his wounds. Then he woke up. Screaming and crying about how there is no one. He apparently did not try to find food and barely drank water. He just wandered around trying to find someone. It took him 3 weeks to find me. The last two people on earth. He’s insane now. He has to be. And he's all mine forever. At least I don’t have to be lonely anymore. At least he isn't dead. Even if we are psychotic.