Over Him ✔

|Chapter Thirty|

•Patricia's pov•

I still think that no one could have forseen this level of devastation. Sky scrapers had been brought to nothing but rubbles, millions of dollars had been lost in just the first quake. After the third quake, I was shocked to still see a couple of houses standing but I was pretty sure a higher percentage of houses and properties had been destroyed.

One of the few houses which were left standing was April's apartment and just a couple feet away from the house was a sinkhole. They weren't usually common here in Brooklyn but nonetheless I was growing concerned. Within the last couple of earthquakes that has passed through the city, the sinkhole seemed to have gotten bigger.

If anything were to happen to the apartment I wouldn't know where else to go to. Legally, April was still the owner of the house since I hadn't signed any paper stating that it was mine, which meant that in the case of the house going down into the ground, I couldn't contact any insurance company.

As much as I knew how dangerous it was to get into the house, I didn't have any other option. Now that the quakes had finally stopped, my next line of action would be to get as much things as I could out of the house and move to a safer place and I knew just the perfect place.

Steathily, I climb up the stairs and into the apartment. Shutting the door behind me, I take in the new and dishevelled appearance of the place.

One of the new vases April had gotten before leaving lay on the ground, shattered in pieces, broken plates and cups lay about in thebz kitchen. Aside from that everything else looked okay.

Quickly scurrying into the room, I grab a duffel bag and start shoving anything that looked important into the bag, not even having time to start folding anything.

By the time I'm done, there's everything from blankets, underwear, clothes, snacks and some shoes. The duffel bag is stuffed and pretty heavy but there's nothing to take out of it since everything inside it is pretty much important.

Finally stepping out of the house, now dressed in a cropped shirt, a red flannel shirt and a pair of black sweatpants with my running shoes, I exhale, fanning my face to disperse the smell of dust hanging around.

Some of the buildings to my right are now leveled, nothing but large bits of building structures laying about. Another building a couple houses down is titling dangerously to the left, leaning on another house that's got a large crack at the centre.

There's confusion everywhere. People are standing about, most unsure of what to do next. A few feet away from me, a pregnant woman is screaming in pain as blood streams down the side of her head, her hand clasped around that of her child's own who is staring on in confusion, his eyes wide with unshed tears.

Pushing my tired self past the number of wounded and confused people, I begin to walk in the only direction I feel is a bit safe for me to go to... For now.

The displaced people's camp site.

A couple years ago, after things had been rough for me and I'd lost everything, I'd moved to a camp site with other people who were also struggling with housing accomodation. It was a place that had been set up by the mayor but after a couple years of abandonment, a group of men rose up and begun to run the place.

Unfortunately, a couple days after I'd moved into the camp, one of their leaders, Zach had become interested and sadly I wasn't aware of the way things were not his background story. After a couple days of dating I'd deemed him a nice enough guy.