Apocalypse

A cloud of ash floated down the slope as Holly slid down, legs braced for impact.

She huffed, trying to stifle her coughing instinctively. She realized a moment later.

“Why? What's the point? There's no one left to hear it anyway.” She muttered out loud. “There's not many animals left either. Even if there were plants, they would never have been able to hear me anyway.”

She kicked at a loose rock, cursing as pain shot through her foot. She tilted her head back to look at what was left of the sky.

“Is this all there is left?” She asked the shattered remnants of the moon. “Is this all I will see til I die of insanity?”

She fell backwards against the loose dirt behind her, still staring through the strange glow dancing across the skies.

“Is this something worth living through? If I'm going to die alone anyway, what does it matter if it's today, tomorrow, or next year?”

The stars above gave no answer. She lay there, fading in and out of consciousness, just waiting.

Waiting for something worth fighting for.