Chapter 3 - Shelter

In the coming days I wander aimlessly, scavenging for resources and whatever food is left, hoping I’ll run into another living person. Each day I spend alone in this wasteland, I lose more and more hope, the wreckage spanning out miles and miles into the distance.

Today, I find myself in a crumbling but seemingly stable building to reside in for the night. Scraps of metal, ash and infrastructure burnt to a crisp surround the area, but a battered roof remains over my head. Throughout my travels so far, I’ve managed to scavenge a few items, although most of it is fallout from whatever I could find amidst the rubble. A makeshift bag of sorts has proved most useful so far, although constantly having to fix it is a major downside.

I clear out a corner in the building, pushing the rubble away and making myself an uncomfortable but sheltered spot to sleep. My stomach rumbles. I haven’t eaten in days. I try to forget about my troubles and think about my one and only love to try and comfort the newfound empty space within my heart.

Calista… are you really gone? The years we spent together… The flowers I bought for you that you never received… Has it all truly ended at someone’s careless decision to destroy it all? A part of me still wants to believe this is nothing but a terrible nightmare, and if I pinch myself hard enough, I won’t have to suffer through this pain any longer.

But no matter what I try, reality remains all the same. As I huddle down in the corner of the worn-down building, I trace the scars and fading wounds across my skin, and stare at the fresh blood on the more recent ones, slowly healing, developing scabs protecting the delicate flesh below them.

Tears began to flow through my eyes as feelings of sorrow floods my vision.

I wipe my face with my dirty jacket sleeve, trying to find comfort in the way it still ever-so-slightly smells like her flower-scented perfume. The best I can do is keep moving and hope for someone to save me– anyone, anything. Calista would want me to keep moving, to stay alive no matter what it takes, wouldn’t she..? I wipe my face with my sleeve again, this time my tears starting to fade.

If I’m going to die in this bleak wasteland, be it radiation or starvation or disease, I’m going to die trying. I wipe my face one more time and lay back down on the ground, closing my eyes and attempting to rest as days of scavenging resources lie upon me.