Not Alone

2

Because of the lack of music, I tend to think of songs I remember from before their arrival. I try to replay them in my head, but the memories of those songs have become fuzzy, out of focus. I only remember small fragments of different songs. Certain lyrics that seemed to stick.

I use the rythym of my boots walking on the gravel as a beat, in an attempt to make up a song. Most of them are about walking, or, I don't know, eating grass or something. If I wasn't the last person on earth, I would have been an amazing singer and songwriter, as you can tell.

"So how are you today, Gwen?"

"I'm doing great! It's beautiful outside, and there is plenty of grass to eat."

Oh yeah, I also like to have conversations with myself. It keeps me busy, and it's not like anyone else is here to judge me. It is times like these when I am glad that I am the only person on earth. No one has to watch me slowly go insane with each passing day.

I stop at a stream, my muscles begging for rest. I fill up my canteen with the water, swallowing it all, so I can fill it up again. It used to bother me that I did not have a water purifier handy, but that wore away as I realized how much I needed water.

I take out my dagger, and put another notch in my boot, marking another day of being alive on this earth. Alone.

Every once in a while, I count the notches to see how far I've come. There is now thirty-two little slashes on the rubber sole of my boot. A month has passed. What day of the week is it? I don't even know what month it is. Maybe August? Each day is the same, making it difficult to keep track of the date.

Birds fly overhead, just going about their day. As if they aren't aware that there is only one human left on the earth. Or maybe they just don't care.

I sit in the grass, enjoying the silence. Today is one of the rare days when I don't go insane from the lack of human life. On those days I get so restless I can't fall asleep. So I stay up through the night, pacing back and forth, wanting so desperately to have something to do.

But today I am surprisingly calm.

That is, untill a twig snaps behind me.