Chapter 8 - Rocks

Losing that food supply has been the greatest hit I’ve taken so far. It’s been a week without food now, and I don’t think I can go any longer without eating something... anything. I stare at a pile of rocks and other assorted pieces of rubble next to me. I pick up a jagged and sharp, piece of concrete, just small enough to swallow without chewing. …Just this once. And then I’ll try to search for something more appetizing. I hesitate before shoving it into my mouth, and forcing myself to swallow it. I stop myself from gagging and feel it hit my stomach.

My mouth now has cuts in it from the sharp rock, the taste of dirt and ash lingering on my tongue. It’s disgusting, but… god, what the hell am I doing? Eating rocks? Hah… How low can you go? Calista would be laughing at me by now. I think I might actually be going insane. Why am I laughing at my own misery? The fact that I’m going to die out here? That all of my efforts will be wasted and.. I’m going to die.

I spend the next 10 hours in terrible pain, my stomach churning as it attempts to digest the rock and I vomit stomach acid all across the ground, my body frail and weak. I don’t know what else to do now other than endure this. In my dizzy state, I grab a sharp piece of metal and slice all across my arms and legs, creating more scars and fresh blood slowly flows out from the open wounds.

It doesn’t even hurt anymore. The constant pain I’ve been in has become the norm, and the cuts and scrapes covering my body are simply nothing. Maybe death won’t be so bad. Maybe I should cut my life shorter than expected. I don’t know how much longer I can keep going. I don’t think there is anyone else left out there. I don’t know, I don’t know, I just… God, I can’t- I can’t do this…

Someone help, please…

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