Lost in Time

Epilogue

Blake

11 years ago

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Being in a bunker alone with nothing but your thoughts and only one other person was mentally draining. Thankfully that one person played music a lot as if to block emotions, but that one person was also a boy she started to have feelings for.

By now he would be considered a man. Wheaty was pale, forever keeping braids in her hair. He grew some facial hair over the years, and he used to keep it shaved frequently, but now he has let it grow out. Maybe he wanted to take after Eli. He wore some of Eli's clothes but only when he seemed emotional. He had burn scars and circles under his eyes. He always looked the same to her, even if he had changed a great bit.

She was much older now about 6 years older, they both were. Her hair was so long she couldn't believe it actually touched her lower back. She wore the same three outfits most of the time. If she felt interesting, she would mix her outfits up. She used some of Tammy's clothes, glad she has grown a bit, even if she was still skinny. She had burn scars and dark circles as well, a bullet scar on her side and the word 'Pride' still etched on her chest.

The difficulties of living in a bunker with Wheaty ranged from him playing a certain song too loud to him not picking up after himself. No matter where she went, she could still hear the music. After a certain point, it gave her a headache. She liked silence but apparently, he did not.

"Wheaty! Wheaty! Turn it down please!"

"What?!"

"Turn it down!"

"What's the matter?"

"I want to read in peace. I know you are doing..." She motions her hands to something mechanical that was in front of him. "...whatever the hell you are doing, but can I have some quiet please?"

"Why? It's just Clutch." He names the song as if it was no big deal.

Then the argument would cease until she could fall asleep with earmuffs over her ears, but then the next morning she would find him still working. He had tried to make something for himself to do because she was asleep and seemed to leave some sort of mess.

"Wheaty!"

"Yeah?" He turns down his music just a slight bit.

"Can you pick up your mess in the kitchen?"

"Yeah sure," he'd say and then go clean it.

But then he would leave a mess in the bathroom trying to fix the sink. Because things apparently need to break after about 6 years.

"Could you at least clean up all the water?"

"Just wait for it to dry." He waves it off.

She would lock herself in the bathroom, her feet all wet and her gut aching like a bitch.

"B! Please tell me you're okay!"

"I'm fine! Just leave me alone!"

"Bullshit! You keep making painful sounds! Like hell, I'd leave you alone!"

But then there would be nights where they have had enough of each other that they would down a whole bottle of liquor, in a competition on who can down the most before throwing up. They would argue until their lips landed on each other, and they both made a mess on the pallet in the supply room until they fell asleep.

It was hard to avoid each other but easy for them to be awkward until they just had to talk to each other again. That happened a long time ago, and they don't talk about it no matter how much time they have to talk. They only touch when they are drinking anyway, which seems to go down in numbers as the weeks go by. Only because they were starting to run out of alcohol, and they had to limit themselves.

One night, he said that they needed to talk about food. Within a month, they would be out completely.

"Out...? Of food?" She questions as she looked up from some planning papers that Eli had. She ran out of things to read, so she was looking over documents until she would stare at the pictures of any nature in the bunker. She missed the smell of it all, the feeling of wind as it tingled her skin. When she was drunk and Wheaty wasn't, she would mumble about nature and how important it was. He would tell her about it, and she would remember it, wondering if anyone could be as smart as she was when she was wasted.

"Yeah..." He runs his hand through his hair and puts his cap back on. "If we ration ourselves for a week, we will have enough food for a whole other week... but the only other option... is to open the door and see if anything has grown."

She wasn't sure what to think of those options. What were the risks? Breathing in radiation? Dying instantly? Not finding anyone alive? They had some supplies down here that will help them grow a new life but if there weren't any opportunities to do so when they stepped out of the Den. There was no point in going up there anyways.

They both read some books that told them a few useful things to manage their life underground and what to do when they go back up to the surface. She hasn't even thought about going to the surface, she has only thought about how to survive down here.

"Do you have a plan then?"

He nods, looking through his stuff, "Sort of."

"Alright." She says and he goes over to the couch, sitting down with some papers in his hands. She sat down with him, and she listened.

"We'll need to gather up everything we can carry and cover our faces, just in case the air isn't clean. We will both go up there and stand there for a few seconds. If there isn't life, then..."

"Then what?"

"I don't know..." He mumbles and she sighs, leaning her head back and closing her eyes. "That's all I have...There has to be life though... It has been 6 fucking years." He bolts up and crumbles up the paper, throwing it across the room. She eyed him as he took his cap off, running his hands through his dark hair as he kept his back to her.

"Wheaty..." She mumbles and stands up. She goes over to him and wraps her arms around his waist.

"We can't be fucking alone B." His voice breaks and she took a deep breath, trying not to cry.

Then there were nights like these, where a wave of realization hit them, and they drowned in sadness and loss. The reality was harsh, and they thought they left it as soon as the bunker door slammed shut. But it was always with them, no matter what music they listen to or no matter how many drinks they downed. It kept them caged in their memories.

As they stood in the hallway, their eyes stared at the steps up to the closed bunker door. They had bags on their back, and clothes covering their face, only revealing their eyes. They prepared to face reality outside the bunker door.

-lynnii
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