It’s now been 2 months since life changed for the worst. My body constantly aches, each daily travel I make becoming a harder and harder task. The stock of crappy airplane food I had before is running low, and I can only continue rationing my food for so long. My skin is pale, my body disheveled, my clothes worn from the harsh, cold nuclear winter and constant falls I have taken. Constant headaches, dizzy spells, and nausea are becoming inescapable, my body growing weaker from the looming radiation, a miracle that it even continues to function
The weather is now bitter cold, an ash-like snow covering the earth, killing off any other remaining plant and animal life. Dark and gloomy clouds now cover the once blue and hopeful sky, its orange and pink-ish hue during sunrise and sunset a rare sight. I still remember the day you brought me to your favorite sky-viewing spot, a hill near a grove of trees in the woods. We made flower crowns and I listened to you express your love towards nature, and as the sun began to set, we held hands, and in that moment, I believed everything would be okay.
At least you don’t have to see what the world has become now, devoid of life and depressing, a wasteland unfit for any life, no space for your favorite pansies, nowhere to follow a fluttering moth in the moonlight, and no you.
The more I walk, the more hope I lose and the more I miss the things I once had. The only thing that keeps me going is the desire to stay alive, the sliver of hope left in my heart, the energetic spirit you once had that has passed onto me. You would never give up, so why should I? Even if death becomes more and more inviting day by day, would it all be worth it? I truly do wonder what the afterlife is like, if there even is one. Religions and beliefs have intrigued me before, but never proved more questionable than now, as death increasingly becomes more likely for me.
I find a tall, seemingly stable concrete building to stay in for the night as I collect my thoughts. I huddle up next to a wall and push away large particles of rubble as I sit down and rummage through my worn-down bag. I take out a protein bar and the last bag of pretzels I could scavenge from the fallen airplane. I feel guilty eating these, knowing these were meant for the passengers, but there’s nothing else I can do.
I eat half, and save the rest for the morning as I close my eyes, preparing for another long day of walking and losing hope.