𝗧𝗼𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗿𝗼𝘄'𝘀 𝗟𝗮𝘀𝘁 𝗕𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗵 | an apocalyptic novel ©

Chapter 61

Wish for Something

2035

Aidan

It would be a lie to say today is my birthday, but it would also be a lie saying it isn't.

I have lost track of time, but I know it's summer, and that means at some point my birthday must take place, right?

Today feels right. Let it be May or July already, two days after or three days before. I don't know, I don't care. Time isn't of relevance anymore, survival is.

Sina.

I try to recall her face for me. It has been ages, I pushed her memory back far into a chamber and put a lock on it.

Jason was found, under horrific circumstances, but I don't even want to imagine what could have happened to Sina or Suraya then.

"Come on, wish for something."

Her voice is the only thing that stuck with me.

I can't remember her face, or her hair, I don't know if it had a touch of blonde or brown in it, I don't remember if her eyes leaned more into hazel or brown.

"Ever had a birthday candle?"

Yes, once, and it was the first.

My eyes involuntarily scan the floor next to my mattress for a lighter.

I find a box of matches, good enough.

When I pick one out and light it, the flame illuminates my hand, perhaps in the same way I still remember her eyes glistening.

I need to let go.

"Come on. Make a wish."

I don't know what to wish for. The match starts to burn down.

Prosperity, Luck, Happiness – all things that do rarely anything of purpose to me in the state the world is in now.

When the match has reached the last bit of wood left to burn, I still haven't come up with something reasonable.

My eyes remain glued to the match and the flame dancing on it, slowly dying.

Like a trance, I am suddenly pulled back to the memories.

Her voice. Her jokingly terrible insults. The way I can hear her laughter.

I didn't love her. Perhaps I didn't even like her. She was an equal to me, just as much as Jason, or Suraya.

But we looked at each other too long to be just friends.

Until it was too la-

"Ouch-" I pull back my hand abruptly and drop the match, rubbing my fingers at the parts the flame burned.

It has burned down and singed my hand.

Yes, Aidan, fire burns.

"Such Bullshit," I mumble, slightly annoyed.

When I lean my head back and close my eyes, I force the memories away. It is stupid to be stuck up on something that has happened two years ago. I didn't think about my birthday last year. Why would I now?

My eyes scan the empty space next to me, no one leans their head on my shoulder this time.

"How old will you be, Grandpa?"

I look up to the ceiling. "Nineteen."

I'll be 19.