𝗧𝗼𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗿𝗼𝘄'𝘀 𝗟𝗮𝘀𝘁 𝗕𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗵 | an apocalyptic novel ©

Chapter 52

Shared last Breaths

idontknowhowlong

Sina Hathway and Suraya Richards

They say when you lose hope, you start talking about your life, your family, your dreams and your hopes.

You start talking because it gives you a sense of empathy. You begin to empathize with the life you had or dream to have.

It makes letting go much easier. You start to accept the fact that you won't last forever, even a leaf falls from a tree when it has blossomed, replaced by a new one.

Even the sun and moon take turns to shine.

You begin to list your life in a matter of seconds because it makes you human. It gives you a personality, it makes you someone. It humanizes you.

They say when you die, it's either slow or quick.

Starvation is the most painful of all, not because it is aggravatingly slow, but because you know what you need to prevent it.

When you don't get what you deserve or need – the urge – you become feral for anything thrown in your way.

Your mind turns into a whirlwind and you begin to hallucinate.

It's a hell you can't escape.

They say death is the most frustrating part of life, but for me, it is to watch another person suffer the same fate as you.

My mouth has run dry. I can't come up with anything new to whisper through my cracked lips.

I can count my ribs through the fabric of my shirt, they protrude even more than they used to.

Every time I run my hands through my hair, they pull out more than I thought I had to braid.

I don't know if I ever slept, my eyes sometimes fall shut and my hands go limp.

The door is unrecognizable. My pocket knife has scratched and prodded into it, now it looks like a wild bear has gone feral at it.

I tried to break open the lock, too.

At some point, the blade of my knife gave in and burst from the grip.

I'm left staring at the hopeless attempts to escape through my blurred vision.

Suraya has been quiet by my side for an oddly long time now.

I'm too weak to check for her pulse, but my arm still is wrapped around her and my hand is now seemingly sealed to hers.

I can't let her go, I can't.

And I hope the last breath I'll take will be hers too.