The Last One

1

Women's day. That day when you gift bracelets and some other stupid things to the girls in the class. And just so it can be more shitty, we had a paper test on english with my not-so-loved teacher, Beth. Essays, essays, essays everywhere.
I was never into writing stuff, mostly because I didn't have the inspiration to do it. Maths and informathics were my passion, my path to success and I already had my whole life and the way it was supposed to go in my head, which didn't require any english paper work. I was seen as the optimistic guy, who hasn't that good grades and struggles just to pass the class, but dreams of a big future.
Success is not an easy thing to achieve, but with great ideas and motivation, it's just like riding a bicycle. I had the bicycle which was a video game, most likely a survival one, loneliness included. I had to do it, I wanted to do it and nothing could stop me. Well, maybe just a plague that kills the entire humanity, but hey, what are the odds? Looking around right now I think I actually did it. I am in the game. I am the game. Alone, tore apart from everything I loved and put against things that kill me from the inside. Isn't this how I wanted it to be?

Most of the boys were happy that day, including me, that was our chance to get something going with girls or more specifically, Emily, but hearing "Thank you" so many times was driving me insane. Happy, but insane; *cough-cough* Beth. She was smiling giving us the paper test, enjoying our suffering.
After the test, everybody lost it, just like their soul just died, until the plague hit. Some guy in the back of the class started coughing and feeling bad. Not long after, it started to spread and all the students began worrying. What kind of virus did that boy bring to us?

Panic. It blew after more than half of the class felt the same thing. Everybody started calling their parents and it just destroyed the phone lines with that many requests. We left the high school to go home, the only place that makes anybody feel safe.
I knew something bad was coming up when I saw my parents coughing too. I just could not think of anything else than the end. The end of the world, not really like I imagined it. Some asteroid that will hit us and kill everybody the same way as it did with the dinosaurs or the global warming getting worse and destroying everything including the ozone layer, killing us slowly or actually anything else but this. I never thought of this. It must be the air. The thing that keeps us alive having the power to also end it.
Everything looked like a game, it just couldn't be real. Time seemed to froze, it was so slow that the seconds were minutes and nobody in my family was saying anything.

The first day went by slowly, without any news. Sleep wasn't for any of us and we used the night for fixing rules and plans of survival in case anything happens, one of which was staying in the house as much as possible and not leaving it. This only made everything more painful as our reserves of food and water were low and we had to ration them. The worse happened when the plague started attacking the hosts.
Pain is one thing that can end any mental resistance and after it, the life of the weakest human bodies. Discussions were hard to have with my parents seeing them suffer that much. I was still ok and sure that I am immune. Disappointment, hope; their eyes were full of them and I could see it. I could see where this is going and I didn't want to accept it. They gave me the last speech, telling me everything I need to know and hold on to if I will survive, from tips to memories, because they are the basic of life, the only things you can hold on to when you are down.

I heard a dog barking outside of the house and I knew who it was. Max, a brown medium height dog, without water and actually very fine as the plague attacked only human bodies. I had to go out and give him from the little we have, because he might survive longer than we would. And how can anybody let a poor dog die of dehydration or starvation? Everytime I saw a dog on the street, not bringing him home was destroying me from the inside. I feel like my life would be complete just if i could save all the abandoned dogs, just the pure happiness. For that moment, seeing a dog so happy just for the presence of his owner, the only one thing that he is loyal to, but also for the water he received, looking at me grateful was enough to fill the empty space the virus created. "Take care of yourself!", I said. I set him loose, watching him run through the garden and probably seeing him for the last time.

When the third day came, it started. My dad entered my room with tears coming down from his eyes which gave me a blank white vision and leaving me completely soundless. I ran outside and stopped on the street, where I fell on my knees. It was happening and there was nothing I could do to stop it. At that moment I realised that this is real, for the first time in 3 days. I could hear people screaming in the distance, full of agony and pain. No, no, no, no, no! God, why?
I went back inside and accepted it, waiting for worse to happen. I remember those times when I looked towards the future, towards a happy family and a life that works the way I want it to. You live to dream it or dream to live it. Dreams and hope are the most powerful things that humanity has, around which we orbit, that our life is based on, things that vanished at the same time as everybody else. What can I dream of right now if everything is just gone? Why does life hit us hard when we are not ready? Too little time to react, to hit back and too little energy to keep up.
"You got to be strong! Take care of yourself and don't disappoint me", my father said. I had to keep fighting, the only thing I could hang on to was the promise. The promise that I will stay alive, that I will be strong.

Putting myself together, I started building a survival pack, getting everything I will need and also some random things, because I will have to move soon enough to get supplies. My phone was a must-have, even though I had no signal and no internet. 2 knives were enough to keep me safe and who knows, maybe they will become useful some day. Pencils and a notebook were also a necessity, along with a bunch of photos with my family, in case I can't return home. Thankfully, I watched some videos a long time ago about lock picking with paper clips, skill that became very useful. There was still some space left in the backpack after I put cans of beans and soup, so I got a flashlight, batteries, some bandages and of course, a pair of headphones.Music is one of the only things that can boost my mood.

At sunset, my dad died. It wasn't a big shock for me anymore as I accepted the fact that it will happen soon. I decided to stay at home for one or two more days, to make a modest funeral for my parents.
Digging took one day and on the second day i ended it, scratching the names on a big rock.

The time to leave came. A red cap, blue and yellow stripes on the t-shirt and a nice wool blouse because it was cold outside, even though it was spring. The bottom part was completed by an usual pair of pants with some fancy and expensive pair of shoes.
The plan was to get to the middle of the city as it would be the most logical spot to meet survivors. I knew the roads pretty well and I had a ton of markets on the way, good places to fill up my supplies. After, most probably, the last night in my house, early in the morning, I got everything I prepared, closed the doors in case some survivors will come by to get stuff and left. 50 meters away from me, I saw a pair of eyes. He is alive.

To be continued.
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