Embrace The Madness: Cataclysm

9. Requiem

[day 35]
Patrick stood on the grass outside the building, under a small tree. He was holding a shovel he had found in a gardener's van, which had its door open. He leant on the shovel as if it were a cane, standing over a small patch of disturbed earth.
The sky was now pitch black, Patrick was fully engulfed in the darkness. He knew it was dangerous to be out at night, unknowing of what lurks after dark, but he didn't care, he had to be fully alone for a while, even if it meant risking his life.
He stood there with his eyes closed, trying his hardest to pull himself from the world. Then he heard a twig breaking in the distance and knew he had to return inside.

He laid the shovel on the ground, next to the grave and stepped inside the building.
As he climbed the stairs, he became aware of the parallel of what his life was like before the apocalypse. And as he reached the door, he realised how boring it was and how he longed for change. However, he knew it wouldn't change without facing his problems first and so he stepped inside his flat.

He recognised the tight yet wide corridor, the white walls slowly gathering dust.
On his right was the living room, in which Oliver slept on the sofa. Rose was also there, arms crossed, sitting on another, shorter sofa.
Patrick hesitated, but went through with sitting down on the other side of the sofa.

He sat there, leant forward, twiddling his thumbs, unsure about how angry Rose was. He knew he was rude and almost threatening towards her and hated himself for it.
He had rarely argued with Sam so he was unsure of how to handle the situation. He had come to the conclusion, through a long while of thinking, that he should just be upfront and apologise.

"I, uh..." he buffered for a second before finishing, "I'm sorry for what I did back then."

Rose gave no response, but she did loosen the grip on her arms.

"Back then... that wasn't me, I promise" Patrick spoke quietly as to not wake Oliver, "I'd hate to have that be your image of me."

"I get it..." Rose replied after a short silence, "you were scared."

She stood up and shut the window that had been opened to air out the smell of decay.

"And for the record, that's not what I think of you" she said as she sat down, this time closer to Patrick.

"Well... what is your image of me?" The two were now looking at each other's eyes.

"You're... strange" she said, to Patrick's surprise.

"Is that... good?" Patrick asked, raising his eyebrows.

She was about to speak and she would have done sooner if not for her smiling.
Their interaction was interrupted by Oliver waking up with a loud noise.

"What time is it?" He asked, groaning and rubbing his eyes.

"Bed time" Patrick replied, getting up and walking towards the kitchen.

He stepped inside and the first thing he saw was an empty food bowl for the dog. This made his heart hurt, but he pushed on, opening the dusty fridge.
It was no longer cold, the electricity had been completely shutdown.
In the darkness he saw a pack of four water bottles. He grabbed the pack and ripped it open. He gave one to Oliver and another to Rose and one for himself. The fourth bottle was stuffed inside a bag in which they had planned to take with them when they left, along with some canned food from the cupboards.

It wasn't long before Oliver was asleep again and Patrick was sat on the sofa, slowly drifting asleep.
He forced himself awake, he didn't want to become anymore vulnerable.

"What's this?" Rose asked as she leant forward to pick something up from the table.

It had been so long, Patrick had forgotten that he'd left his weed on the table.
Rose looked back at him when she realised what it was. She didn't look disappointed, nor did she look judgemental.
Instead, she leant back on the sofa, looking down, no doubt flooded with memories of her past as well.
It was then that Patrick got up, picked up the stuff and flicked it out the window, closing it again.