Watching The World Burn by Abby Jean Sprouse

Chapter 5: Stuck on Repeat

I feel as though we are stuck in a time loop, it's sort of how I felt before as well; well before Zachariah woke up from his weird funk he was in. Now that he's back to some kind of sense of normal though; as normal as he can get under the circumstances, every day is the same. We wake up at whatever time it is, who really knows. Then we workout in the dark, we do Zach's "pre-workout routine" the same one each day and then we run in place. I've managed to stay pace with him and not give up and it's starting to get easier to endure. 

After exercising we both go to our respective corners, Zachariah still refuses to get in the light. I won't push him though, I like his new attitude towards everything and I'd rather have a survival buddy than someone who wants to rush us to the grave. With life there is hope, as I keep reminding myself. Maybe both us of us can be saved together. Or at least that's what I pray to myself and God almost every hour I am awake. Pray without ceasing, something I skimmed over while reading the old Bible. 

Yes, I've made it past the story of Noah and the great flood. I'm sure anyone who reads this in the future will probably thank God himself for me finally furthering my readings. I know it was probably getting a little redundant, me always writing about the same story but to me it just felt right...

I don't know but now I am reading onwards and finding new and interesting teachings and commandments. Like the part where I read over praying without ceasing. It sounds crazy to anyone living any other life but to me its honestly quite easy. My brother may have changed his behavior and thinking but he's still not much for conversation. We talk, but not enough to fill the silence that covers almost the entire days and sometimes nights when sleep won't find me. So instead of talking and annoying Zach to death which I know it might, I pray constantly. Sometimes out loud in a whisper, but mainly in my head. 

God is my best-friend now, besides Zachariah. I just talk to him about everything, all the time. It's hard to imagine but I'll write an example. If I'm going to get some food rations for the day I'll think to myself and God, 'am I really "that" hungry?' 'I'm sure I can wait a little longer.' Or if I haven't already been fasting then I'll start another fast. It's kind of like talking to yourself but instead you're talking to yourself and God. My mind never shuts up anyways so it just kind of works out. 

I love knowing that I can talk to God all the time but I hate the feeling of being stuck. Especially with no change, I know I should be careful what I wish for. There was non-stop change before the fires. My parents' deaths, my crappy revolving door of attempted love interests, my pregnancy, the death of my daughter, and then the fires. Change isn't always a good thing, but a little positive change couldn't hurt. Like how am I not skinny by now, we barely eat and we workout daily. Maybe it's the stress of the situation and it's not like I'm severely unhealthy or too entirely overweight. I'm 185 pounds and 5'5 so it's not like I'm really complaining about my weight or looks, it's just hard growing up seeing size zero models and movie stars and society praising that and expecting it of everyone. I used to wish all the time that I was allowed to be attractive by society as I was in the moment. 

All of that is over now, and it's not like I really want to be skinny right now. No one is around anymore anyways to appreciate it, I just wish something new would happen. Nothing bad, just something to break us out of this endless cycle. Wake up, work-out, eat or not eat, corners and writing or reading, potty at some point, and roll around in our beds until we fall asleep. 

At least Zachariah is writing now too and reading, I don't know how he manages it in the dark though. He must be part owl or something, I'm sure he's just pretending so that I won't worry about him as much. We alternate the bible and the journal while the other isn't using either. I'll read for awhile when he writes and vise versa. 

I don't read his writings and even though he claimed before that he reads mine. I don't think he's ever actually crossed that line I just think he said it to get a rise out of me. We never told each other not to, it's just an unspoken rule, what we write is private. Well, mine is more of for the future or I guess to help aid my hope but for right now I think I'd be embarrassed if he read it and I'm sure he would feel the same if I read what he wrote. So, whenever I see his chicken scratch handwriting, I skip over to the next blank page. 

.......

"How many blankets, sheets, and pillows do we have in here?" Zachariah's voice broke through the silence suddenly, interrupting Addison from her writing. 

She looked up from the old journal and glanced his way even though she couldn't see him in his shadowy curtain. "Um, well there's one of each on each of the beds, and then there are two extra blankets and pillows in one of the supply bins, why?"

She couldn't see him but she could feel the smirk on his face as he asked, "want to build a fort?"

Addison laughed gleefully as if she were a child again, this was an activity they had partaken in often when they were young. Their parent's could never stand it whenever they'd busy themselves with something and then come back into a room to find that the house was over taken by a chaotic storm of pillows, blankets, and sheets. 

As they worked in the dark, moving the beds closer together to hang the blankets, and feeling around to prop the pillows up in perfect position they both laughed. They both knew the action was silly but there was an actual joy to doing something so ridiculous in such a time as the one they found themselves in. It was a reminder, they may have just been surviving but it didn't mean they weren't allowed to have fun while doing so. 

"Remember how obsessive mom was over the furniture placement, she hated when we used to move the couch and recliner around along with the lamp and tv stand just so that we could have a fort. Always fussing at us for messing up her 'aesthetic'."

Zachariah laughed at the memory that Addison mentioned, "yeh and Dad hated when she was mad because it meant he wasn't going to get laid that night. So he'd just fuss just to back her up and out of frustration."

"We were children, Zachariah! How did you realize it was because of that?!" Addison was astonished by his boldness but laughing all the while as she fitted a blanket end into the edge of the top part of the bunk bed. She mulled over what he had said and realized it made since now that she was older. He chuckled from where he was propping up another pillow, adding to the collection. "They were active and I used to steal mom's computer all the time. I learned a lot through sneaky observation and a lot of googling."

Addison's mouth gaped open in the darkness, "sneaky is right because I had absolutely no clue that that was the case."

They both laughed together and lay back into the pillow pile they had made in the middle of what was probably a "monstrosity" as their mother used to yell. They were side by side laughing uncontrollably. It wasn't even really that funny but they hadn't laughed in so long and they needed the feeling of happiness. Even if it was brief or overexaggerated. 

They slowly stopped laughing and then sat in silence enjoying the moment. "I'm really grateful for this, I just kind of wish grandpa would have made the space a little bigger with more furniture and maybe even a bit more entertainment, like more books or something." Addison sighed after her statement. 

She could feel Zach's head bobbing up and down slightly in agreement. "It would have been nice but at least we have this at all and have made it. That's more than what could be said for others."

"Yeh, I am glad we're still here and we're together."

"Good, because that's all that really matters in the end right? We're breathing, we have necessities, and we have each other. What more could we ask for?" Addison smiled at Zachariah's words. She didn't care how long they would be stuck, or if they would even survive but as long as she had her brother and as long as he had hope she was content and happy. 

"We could wish for a tv," Addy stated matter of fact-ly.

They both busted into laughter again at that.