The days that followed

The beginning of the end

*This story contains a few swear words and a few graphic parts; readers discretion is advised. Content suited for teens and young adults, thanks.*

An old man sits in the corner in a old beat up recliner speaking to his kids about past events, then in a low deep shaky tone voice he starts his story.

"The room was dark, the chair is cold, the air was heavy and thick, and the smell of blood hang in the air like a mold in a cave; lingering just to steal the fresh air away from the outside as a gentle breeze forces through the small window at the side of the room. The birds outside chirp their happy little tone on top of the corpses and rubble of the cities we once called home.
My friend stirs in the corner of the small room huddled up like an infant, she looks so fragile and i know that the years of killing has definitely taken their toll on her mind and body.
Slowly the door slides ever so slightly into the room and fingers wrap around the for frame. I stand, my instinct kicks in, as I prepare to attack the next thing that walks through the door. But softly a voice said 'excuse me, are you Jack?'
'I was,' I said shifting in my boots.
She stared at me puzzled then asked, 'you were, who are you now?'
'I am just a man now, that name means nothing now.' I said slowly.
'You were one of the reasons so many of us are alive, Jack your the hero.' She said pulling one of the collapsible chairs from the corner by the door.
'I'm the hero who can't ever get a bed for anyone here. If I'm the hero I don't feel like it, the least I could do is get a bed for the households.' I said curling up on the floor.
'Come now Jack, you protected her.' she said sitting down and pointing to the corner where my small fragile friend lay stirring every once in a while due the laying on the hard concrete floor.
'I couldn't even save my own daughter, i couldn't find the one part of me that mattered most to me in this screwed up world.' I felt a tear begin to form.
She rose from the chair, 'it's alright Jack, if she's as strong as your then she's probably making her way to the base now.' She picked up a blanket of the small card table and placed around my shoulders slowly starting to warm me.
'Are you the one who is going to ask me questions?' I look to her.
'Yes, I'm here to ask: who is the man Jack Raverson?'
'Ah, of course, of course. Who was Jack Raverson, well to answer that let me start from the beginning, the beginning of the end.'"