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.・゜-: ✧☾ ☽✧ :-゜・.
The concept of death was something that you might think was a regular concept in a world as cruel as the one that they were living in. That surviving meant going numb to the bodies.
After a while, Stella lost count of the people that she lost around her. Funerals and mourning became a daily occurrence. But she had leaned to adjust and get back up after the deaths of her friends and the members of the group. It didnt mean that she didnt care. Surviling simply limited her time to mourn and forced her to rise and fight, the daily struggle of trying to live to see another day.
But over time, surviving wasn't a victory anymore. It became a sentence and a cure having to watch the losses around her. Having to watch the people she loved the most be torn apart, shot, bitten. Having to hold hands that went cold and rigged in her own. Having to watch chests rising for one last time. Having to pull the tigger that would bring the life out of someone.
Then there was the after math. The after math when the sun rises and the wind howls away the night. The after math where you wake up, still breathing and that was the real punishment. Waking up and sentenced to go on and simply survive.
When Stella woke up the next morning after just mere scattered hours of sleep that night, she opened her eyes to the real nightmare. She was alive, but not really. Her chest felt hollow, her hands felt useless and her eyes sore and painful. But she was still alive. And nothing had ever stung to hard in Stellas chest.
It wasn't the heroism that carried the girl through the inferno that the downfall fo the earth had left behind. It wasn't the hope of a cure or the noble courage. It was the sacrifices that had led her to where she was that made her open her eyes every morning and close them every night. It was the fading images of the people she once loved's faces in her mind that gave her the strength to draw each breath. It was the distant ringing sound of their voices that pushed her to endure the daily fight of survival.
She lived for them. She lived and breathed when they couldnt and she swore to herself that she was going to keep do it when they lay buried.
She buried Ellie beside Beth - her grave a little smaller than her older sisters. The sight was excruciating. Stella folded over, her knees crashing against the ground as she was shoving the dirt onto the white sheet that covered Ellies frame. She clutched to the pile of dirt, her fingers curling as if it was the only thing keeping her together. Her vision blurred, the tears burning at her eyes.
Ellie was careless. She always drove the group to madness with her stupid jokes and silly pranks. She would always risk her life for the dumbest items, a bag of skittles, a comic book, a pair of ugly glasses or a ugly shirt with inappropriate images on them. While everyone was surviving, she was living. Even in an post apocalyptic world did she live every day to the fullest, and she filled everyones lives with even the slightest bit of hope. She never failed to see the best in people or put smiles on everyones faces with her stupid jokes and dumb activities.
