Cleaner Air.

January 23: The hollows.

Personally, I hate drawn out introductions, but I guess this is the beginning of the end of the world. To whoever is reading this, that is if we don’t all end in flames, my name is Phoebe Cathrine and I lost most of my senses three years ago. My eyesight is completely gone, doomed to throw me into a void of sightless behaviors, such as burning my fingertips and dropping various items that might never be returned to me. My friend Miles Reyes helps me with tasks that are far too embarrassing to list. My sight dog Hades helps with, you guessed it, my sight. I escaped my family when I was young and lived with Miles. He and I have cared for each other since we were in diapers. Our families weren’t the kindest. My parents wanted me to learn how to be independent. They wanted me to feel around for what I was looking for. I needed help. 

We were at a doctor's appointment when they told me I couldn’t see Miles again. They said I depended on him for far too much. I was a burden to him. We only lived a mile or so from the clinic, so I left The appointment before I could find out why I was losing all my abilities. All my senses. Gone. I ran to his house with Hades and never went back. Never found out. 

The hollows never followed.

We went through a trial. They didn’t win, and they’d tried to ruin my life. They tried to get us in legal trouble, which resulted in their parental rights being seized by the courts. They could never come near us again.

January 25: That scent(?)

So, the world is ending. We humans took advantage of the earth’s many gifts and climate change has never gotten worse. We walk on scorching hot rocks and singed grass. There’s no wildlife left. As far as we know, we’re all that’s left. 

Miles lugs around a backpack full of plant cuttings, in case we wanted to start the earth up again when it was safe for them. He took it upon himself to name them individually. Athena. Persephone. Gaia. Zeus. If you didn’t know already, Miles named Hades.

Miles? No, you don’t have to write...

Miles?

Do you smell that?

Miles and I have been trying to put together a reason why I smelled what I smelled. As soon as I detected the scent, I cried as I pictured that room. A room with a shag carpet and a bunk bed. Its bare walls are cream-colored and the boy is blonde with blue eyes. The memory leaves me. But I need to know who it is, Miles.

February 5: We’re lost, Miles.

Here’s a description of that boy I saw, Miles:

He’s tall and has an average build. He’s got kind eyes, sort of like yours if I remember correctly. (Note from Miles: I have “puke green’ eyes.) He smelled of dirt and grit. As if he'd been raised by wolves. He was oddly clean. Miles? I think he’s still out there. That familiar scent didn’t come from nowhere. It’s him. What if he needs our help?

February 10: Miles has a crush on me.

For a little more context, Miles and I are both eighteen. We’ve been a dynamic duo since we were babies. Miles recently told me he had feelings for me. He takes care of me. He’d probably still take care of me, even if I didn’t feel the same. But I do. When Miles took me in, he never let me do anything alone. He was always so kind to me, even when my family told him to turn his back on me. I didn’t know it then, but it was because he loved me.

Why I’d do it again-Miles

The air was stale 

When you came around. 

It was freezing, 

that night.

You asked me to take care of you

Until you could do it alone.

I told you

No 

Forever.

Until every fiber of my body is 

Dead.

February 12- Moving west.

We started traveling west to find more plants and that godforsaken smell. We’re going to my old neighborhood. From what I remember, there were plants for miles, lining the streets with the most beautiful shades of green. My neighbor had a gorgeous rose garden filled with the scent of mother nature’s perfumes. Anyways, we’re almost there. From the landmarks and restaurants I’ve told Miles about, he seems to know where we’re going. We found this old map at an abandoned truck stop that was a few miles from our house. Now that I think about it, we haven’t been home in a while.

February 13- we made it.

We sat in the driveway for a while. One rose left. Holding on by a thread. Miles held it up to my nose to see if there was a chance that maybe my senses were coming back. I’d be blind for the rest of my life, but there was a chance my ability to smell was returning. The sweet perfume overpowered my nose, bringing me to my knees. I cried into Miles’ shoulders. There was a chance that I could be somewhat normal. I have the whole blind thing down. But no scent meant no taste. Now, I might have both back. I have to chase that mysteriously familiar scent. The shag carpet. Bare walls. It was around here somewhere.

We went into the blue-eyed boy’s house. He lived right behind me. It was as I pictured it, according to Miles. A small tan house with a creek behind it. What old memories are hiding in those woods?

February 14th- Happy Valentine's day, Miles. I’m so tired.

We stepped into that plain house, now a bit worn and spray painted with horrid textures. Hades sniffed around, making sure nothing dangerous lurked beyond the front door. When we got the “it’s ok’ nudge from Hades, we went in. We smelled the air, trying to see what other memories were trapped in the vanilla ice cream walls. There was broken glass under my feet and empty spray paint cans. The house was in ruins. We found broken picture frames of the family that once inhabited these walls. Miles got closer to me, taking care of my steps, and pushed all the cans out of the way. Hades waited at the door, so as to not cut up his paws. We quietly moved through the house as Miles whispered the facial features of the boy with blue eyes in family pictures. 

It was him, I was sure of it.

February 17- We have to find him, Miles.

I found out that his name was Alexander Thurmond through various report cards and a college acceptance letter. He was going to be someone, Miles. I knew him. He was my friend. He was a survivor. We have to look for him. He couldn’t have gone far. 

We’ve been looking around the house for a while. There’s freshly opened canned goods like tuna and peaches that would’ve gone bad if they were left for a long time. He’s around here.

Miles, someone’s opening the door.

February 18- He came home.

Miles and Alexander fought back and forth for a bit, from my understanding. Miles said that he came in with a baseball bat, ready to save his skin. But he saw me sitting on the floor, on a pile of blankets Miles had rounded up for me, crying. Feeling so useless and scared that my best friend was in harm's way. As Alexander came in, Miles stood in front of me, ready to protect me from whatever was approaching. As they struggled with each imminent bruise and strike, Alexander became aware of my presence. I could feel the warmth of a body in front of me. Hoping it was Miles, I put my hands on his face, trying to feel for someone familiar. Instead, I was greeted with higher cheekbones and a rounder face. It was him. That scent that I so desperately have been searching for days. It was his. I pulled him closer, breathing in the powerful memory that reminded me of a home before all the chaos.

February 20- We have to fix the earth.

Miles came out of the fight with a few contusions and welts. Alex has a black eye. 

I told Alex about everything we had all been through. I explained to him that my senses were gone. That his scent was the first thing I could smell as of late. I even tried peaches out, which I didn’t get the chance to before the earth began to burn. Not bad. Tasting things is so underrated.

After the fight, we decided we needed to widen our search to more than plants. People. We have to find people that can help us regrow this earth and fix our past mistakes. There must be more people out there waiting to be found.