Beneath the Broken Sky

The world had ended long ago.

At least, that’s what Lily told herself every morning when she opened her eyes to the thick, gray fog that hung in the air like a shroud. The days bled into each other now, indistinguishable from one another in their drudgery and silence. The streets, once filled with cars, laughter, and the hum of human life, now lay cracked and abandoned, overgrown with wild grasses and tangled vines. Buildings that had once been filled with warmth and purpose were now skeletal remains, their windows broken, their walls crumbling, their doors gaping open to nothing.

The storm had come without warning—a wave of destruction that swept across the world in days, flattening cities and leaving a wasteland in its wake. People scattered, some clinging to the faint hope of survival, others resigning themselves to the inevitable. But Lily had stayed. She wasn’t sure why. Perhaps it was because she had no one left, or perhaps it was because she couldn’t bring herself to leave the memory of Marcus behind.

He had been her everything.

Now, everything was gone.

The old farmhouse on the outskirts of the town had once been a place of refuge, a place where they had laughed and planned and dreamed. But the day Marcus had left, Lily had known something was wrong. They had argued, or maybe it was more like a quiet surrender. Neither of them had ever truly believed they’d be the last ones standing. They hadn’t prepared for the world to crack apart so swiftly, so violently. But when it did, it tore apart their lives in ways they couldn’t fix.

“I need to go,” he had said, staring at the open door like it was a lifeline. "I can't keep pretending this is enough, Lily. You... you don't see me anymore."

Lily had looked at him, eyes wide with confusion. How could she not see him? She had been here—surviving beside him. But the world was collapsing, and nothing made sense anymore. The things that once mattered—the small, human things—had stopped mattering in the face of ruin. She thought he was being dramatic, thought he would come to his senses.

But he hadn’t.

And just like that, he was gone.

She didn’t even know where he had gone. The sky had turned blood-red that night, the clouds swirling and churning like some monstrous creature waking up from a long slumber, and Marcus had just… walked out.

It had been nearly three weeks since that night, and Lily still wasn’t sure if he was dead or alive. She had searched the ruins of their old town, going door to door, calling his name into the silence, but there was no answer. Nothing but the wind.

She sat now in the dim light of the farmhouse, staring at the pot on the stove, the remnants of yesterday’s meal bubbling lazily. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. The days stretched on, one after another, each one more empty than the last.

Lily didn’t think she would ever get used to the silence. In the beginning, she had thought it might be a relief—not to have to hear the constant noise of the world, of people, of life. But now it was a deafening, suffocating thing. She could almost hear his voice in the wind, his laugh in the howling of the coyotes outside.

But he wasn’t coming back.

Her hand hovered over the crumpled map on the table, the ink faded, the lines blurry and indistinct. There had been plans, once—plans to escape, to rebuild, to find safety. But the maps didn’t matter anymore. The world had swallowed all of them up, and the dreams that had once made them feel like they could survive were now just fragments in her mind.

She stood, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, and moved toward the broken window. The trees outside swayed in the wind, their branches groaning under the weight of the storm that had passed through days ago. A few leaves scattered across the ground, but other than that, there was only the desolate quiet.

Her stomach twisted. She was hungry, but she had nothing left but the scorched remnants on the stove and the burnt wreckage of her past life.

A sound. A noise, faint, but unmistakable. The thud of a footstep in the dust. A cough.

Lily’s heart stuttered. She turned slowly, almost afraid to look.

"Marcus?" The word slipped out of her mouth before she could stop it.

But the figure that appeared in the doorway wasn’t Marcus.

It was a man—thin, gaunt, his clothes tattered and torn, his face pale and drawn. He looked as though he hadn’t seen water or food in days. His eyes were wide and panicked, darting around the room as if he expected someone to jump out at him at any moment.

Lily’s pulse raced, but she didn’t move. She couldn’t.

The man’s eyes locked on hers. “I’m… I’m sorry. I thought this place was empty.”

Lily swallowed hard, her throat dry. She didn’t know whether to feel relief or despair. For a moment, the man’s face almost looked like Marcus. His eyes were dark, desperate in a way that reminded her of the way Marcus had looked the last time she saw him. But it wasn’t him. It couldn’t be.

And just like that, the realization hit her like a punch in the gut.

She had been waiting for a shadow of him. For something she couldn’t get back. He wasn’t coming back.

The man in the doorway blinked, noticing the tears now falling freely down her face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude.”

Lily wiped her eyes, shaking her head. “No… it’s fine. It’s just…” Her voice broke.

The man nodded and backed away slowly, not quite knowing what to say or do. Lily watched him retreat into the haze of the ruined world outside, the door swinging shut behind him with a soft creak. As the silence settled in once more, Lily sank down to the floor, her back against the wall. She couldn’t escape the thought that had been gnawing at her for days, a thought that had taken root in the deep, hidden parts of her heart.

You never know a good thing until it’s gone.

Slowly, she rose once more to her feet and headed to the door. It groaned as she pulled it open with hesitation, but not as much as her heart when she called out to the weak old man to come back inside.