Longing for Death

The ashes rise from the plume of smoke that fills the air. The ozone is filled with debris that block out most of the sun’s warmth. I can’t remember the last time I was truly warm… Dying in a nuclear explosion was the easiest pathway through the wake of humanities destruction. The world went from bad to worse before the bombs fell. We all knew it was a matter of time but shock still took me when I realized what had happened. For those who remain in the wasteland we envy those who perished within the flash of burning light. A bright light and then nothing more. No worries of finding your loved ones, no worries of finding clean water, no worries of being torn apart at your very soul from the lost you have endured.

It was as if God came to rapture his children but only the lost were left behind to suffer in this world of wintery hell. I once believed in God but how can I now after all I have seen. The death and destruction along with the primal violence amongst those that remain. If there is a God, the son of a bitch has forsaken us all. I was once a husband and a father of three beautiful children. I am alone now. My sorrow has grown with each passing day. I long for the reapers blade so that I may join my beloved family in death. My basic human instincts of survival are my curse. I just can’t bring myself to taking my own life. I’ve tried but I just can’t pull the God damn trigger. Instead, I wonder through this world of shadows trying to not freeze. I miss touching her face. Megan was my wife and best friend. She was the angel that tamed the demons within my very soul. I miss the way she would close her eyes as I held her face. She gave me the gift of fatherhood. Our two daughters Ava, Amelia, and son Wyatt. They were my whole world and I couldn’t protect them.

I was gone when it happened. We lived close to a major army base called Fort Jackson. It must have been a military target. The blast radius took out the entire city of Columbia and most of the surrounding towns. I don’t even have a home anymore. All I do now is cry at night looking at the tiny picture of my family within her heart shaped locket. Megan loved that locket for some damn reason. It was such a simple gift. I honestly was ashamed because it was all I could afford to buy her for our first wedding anniversary. The locket wouldn’t stay shut anymore so I offered to buy her a new one but she wouldn’t have it. She told me to drop it off on my way to work to have it repaired but I was in such a hurry that I forgot. I had it in my pocket for days after the world went to hell. When I finally pulled it out of my pocket, I hit my knees and sobbed for what seemed like an eternity. I don’t know how much time had passed as I sat there with tears running down my face. One thing I did know was that my heart was forever gone.

My humanity is now gone. The only thing that remains now are the demons that were once buried deep within me. It’s just I have become so numb that my conscience no longer speaks to me. The few people that remain are no better than animals. Some are predators and some are prey. I can only hope that someday it will be my turn. To be set free from this nightmare is my only hope. Hell, it’s the only hope one can have anymore. The real torture of all of this isn’t almost freezing, it’s the vivid dreams. They feel so real. When I finally do manage to fall asleep, I dream of the time before the bombs. I see my wife outside in the garden planting flowers. Her long black hair flows in the summer breeze as she looks up at me and smiles. Those honey brown eyes staring into mine melts my heart every time. She is always working so hard trying to plant. I laugh because she doesn’t have green thumb but she still enjoys it even though they won’t last long. I look over and see my kids playing outside running through the little field out by our home. Ava and Wyatt look just like my wife. My sweet Amelia is my little twin who slowly follows her siblings through the field giggling. The kids are always smiling at me almost like they know something that I don’t. I always ask what they are whispering and laughing about but they never tell me. Then I wake up and realize it was just a dream and the nightmare that I am in is in fact my reality.

How does a person cope and overcome such a tragedy? In a time before the bombs, I would have had other family to lean on during a tragedy but the loss of this magnitude wiped everyone out. I keep planning to join my family. I play it over and over in my head. Each day I wake up and think to myself will this be the day that I fully let go of the world. Removing myself from this misery makes the sore muscles in my body relax. Peace is all I want. Do I not deserve it? What the fuck did I do to deserve such a fate? I should have been home when it happened. That God damn prick of a boss called me out on a delivery route that day. It was supposed to be my day off! I was supposed to be home! I’m so glad that fucker burned. I only can hope he felt it before he finally turned to ash. He took from me the opportunity to be with my family for eternity. I gave that company so much of my time and I did it for the almighty dollar. In the end it didn’t mean shit! I lost so much precious time with my family, and now it’s too late.

Thinking about all this my mind circles around to the boy I seen parish just yesterday. He couldn’t have been no more than 15 years old. He had red hair eyes and had freckles on his cheeks. Ginger is what me and my family use to call red heads. He kind of reminded me of one of my daughter’s old boyfriends Sean. The boy was trying to keep warm. He must have been living in that old store because I found a living area in the back room. Poor kid had started a fire inside with no ventilation. I know I said I was numb but I felt this. Everything feels wrong about me now. I have so much damn guilt. I guess it must be the remnants of my conscience. I see his face when I close my eyes. I think about my kids. Maybe it is best they don’t have to live like this.

Sleep is what I need. I found a bottle of prescription sleep medication in the boy’s back room hide away. I will take some of those and hopefully with any luck I can numb myself for just a little while. I just want one night of silence. I take four of the little white pills and thirty minutes later I started feeling my eyes getting very heavy. Evidently these pills didn’t lack their potency. I felt drunk and sluggish. I turned in for the night laying by the fire place in my small one room cabin. The cot that I was laying on felt really comfortable tonight for some reason. I think I’m going to like these pills. As I was drifting off into sleep my thoughts were circled around my plans for tomorrow. Maybe I should head back into town to the pharmacy and see if I couldn’t find a larger supply of this medication. I don’t know why the thought of taking sleeping medication never dawned on me throughout this whole ordeal. The boy was clearly not as ignorant as a thought just a day earlier. I thought a heard something but I couldn’t make it out. It was the sound of crunching like someone running in the snow. The door to my small cabin I’ve called home for the last 10 months flew open and so did my eyes. In the door way stood a figure but it was as if I were a statue. I couldn’t move. I lied there staring blankly at the figure. The outside wind was bitter cold and my small fire was no match for its force. It was snuffed out as if were never there and, in this moment, I knew my fate would be the same as the fire. The figure stepped into the door way removing the furred hood from over their head. It was a girl and for a moment I thought it might have been my daughter Ava. She looked like her. She slowly pulled her hood back and bright red hair flew out. She then raised her arms elbow back clinching an arrow. She looks into my drug hazed eyes and says this for my little brother Ben. Then it all made perfect sense. Ben was the boy that I encountered yesterday and this girl standing in front me was his sister. Before I could speak, she released her arrow and the shot was true. Straight into my grief filled heart. She walks slowly towards me. My breathing is heavy now. I look up to her and say I am so sorry. With my last ragged breathe I managed to get out the words, thank you for freeing me.