Last Hope

There was a time in my life where I craved the feeling of being alone. I didn’t want my younger brother in my room, my parents checking up on me, or my boyfriend calling my phone every five minutes. I just wanted to be completely and utterly alone. Now, I have it. I am the last woman standing on Earth. My days are spent wandering abandoned malls, searching for food, and moving from home to home. It’s not the survival that bothers me, but it’s the loneliness. The loneliness swallows me at night and spits me out during the day. There is no one here if I’m having a bad day, no shoulder to cry, and no one to love me. The feeling of being loved is one that my mind is starting to forget. It’s slipping away like water between my fingers. How long had it been? 1 year or 2 years. The “big explosion” seems like ten years ago at this point, but I continue on. I’m in the search of answers, in the search of purpose, and in the search of love. Today, I’m in Florida, or what used to be Florida. Everything looks the same to me now just a desecrated mess, but Florida has beaches. I can play in the sand, float in the ocean, and attempt to catch some fish. I drive my car, one of my cars, right on the sand, because no one can tell me not to. I shut the car off, and throw my backpack into the sand. Natural instincts tell me to check around for strangers, but I know no one is there. Once the coast is clear, I strip off my clothes just to my bra and underwear. I take a running start towards the water, and begin splashing around. I pretend that my parents are here, and my little brother is splashing back at me. 

            “Stop it!” I close my eyes and yell. I know I’m talking to no one. 

            “No!” My heart thunders at a voice that’s not mine. My eyes fly open and there is a man standing in front of me. I let out a shriek, and he doesn’t even flitch. He just smiles at me. He has dark curly hair that’s matted against his forehead, and he’s not wearing a shirt. “Who? How? What?” I reach out and poke his chest because I can’t’ believe this is a real person in front of me. 

            “Hi, my name is Landon” He says. He has a thick accent, but I don’t know from where. 

            “Um…my name is…” What is my name? It’s been so long since I’ve said. I could have any name I wanted at this point, but I should be grateful I can finally say my name. “Rayne,” I poke him again just to double check. He lets out a chuckle, that turns my terror into calmness. 

            “Nice to meet you, Rayne, mind if we get out the water?” He asks me, and gestures towards the sand. I nod and we both walk silently to the shore. He’s real. There is an actual person on earth with me? How did he survive? Where is from? Where has he been? Did he know I was alive? The questions scrambled in my mind until we reached the shore. He grabs his shirt from the ground, and we both sit down. For a few moments, we just stare at each other. Like this can’t be real can’t it. 

            “So you survived too?” It’s the first and maybe the stupidest questions I could have asked. If he haven’t survived, then he wouldn’t have been here. 

            “Yes, I remember the explosion happening, then I passed out. I didn’t wake up for days, or weeks, or months, but when I did wake up everyone was gone” He explains. There is so much sadness in voice, that I yearn to wrap my arms around him. His story is almost identical to mine. 

            “So where have been staying? I haven’t hit all the states yet, but I’ve been making my,” I tell him. Maybe I missed him somewhere: Florida, Georgia, South Carolina, Virginia, Washington, California, and New Mexico. I would drive for days and check inside every building for a sign of life. There was never anyone there, and part of me had gotten lazy with checking the buildings all the time. I had accepted the fact that this was life. Alone and forgotten. 

            “South Florida, it’s where I’m from. You are much braver than me, because I couldn’t bring myself to venture out there” He pauses and bits his bottom lip. “I’m terrified of what I could find bodies, zombies, or even worse.”  He explains and shakes his head. “I stayed in my house, ate food at the local grocery store until it ran out, and come here to the beach to catch fish.” 

            I try to soak in everything that he’s saying, but my mind is racing with a thousand more questions. Did he wake up before or after me? Where is his accent from? His voice breaks my thoughts. 

            “It’s getting dark, we should head to my house. It’s safe there, and I have food for dinner,” I can’t object, because I’m starving, so I grab my backpack, abandon the car, and follow him to his car. The drive to his house it’s quiet, and I take a moment to glance out the window. I enjoy the night sky, and without the pollution, you can see the stars so clearly. I know it’s stupid, but I close my eyes and make a wish. A wish that this moment, where I’m not so alone last forever. We arrive at this house, and it nearly takes my breathe away. It’s a Italian-style villa, with palm trees lining the driveway. 

            “My dad was kind of big deal,” He mumbles. I don’t press him further on it, because it seems like a sensitive subject, by the look on his face. I follow him quickly inside. The house continues to amaze me. There is heart lining the halls wall, expensive furniture, and a large aquarium. We sit on the couch with an appropriate amount of space between us. It’s the first time I realize that I’m alone with a man. I haven’t been with a man since my boyfriend died. Now I’m sitting on the couch next one, but I know to be cautious.

            “Did you have siblings?” He asks me.

            “I had a one brother,” I say and this opens the whole can of worms. For hours, we talked about our lives. We talked about high school, college, relationships, family, tv shows, movies, and just life before the explosion. He played football, loves pepperoni pizza, had a three year old husky, and his family is from Cuba. The more we talked, the space between us began to close, and once we were just inches apart I knew we had one question that we had to face. 

            “What do you think happened? Why is everyone gone?” I ask him. He gulps and looks away. “The government, aliens, God, who knows?” He shrugs it off like he can’t bring himself to think about this, and I know the feeling. The truth is we will never know what exactly happen, or why we were chosen to survive. 

            “I’ve spent years searching for answers,” I fidget on the couch, and my heart brings to race. “I thought if I figured it out, then maybe I would be at peace,” I shake my head, and fight back the tears that are threatening to fall. 

            “Nothing will bring you peace. We now exist in a world, where we are completely alone,” He sighs and his voice breaks slowly. 

            “You are not alone,” I reach out and touch his hand. This feels so foreign to me: skin to skin contact. We both stare at each out intensely, and suddenly it’s very clear to us on what we have to do. Start over. 

            The world would be anew when we became anew. Landon was my bright light of hope that I had been searching for in the bland existence. My reason for surviving explosion was to find him. Together, we could rebuild a world that was bright, filled love, and create hope for future generations.