Nothing.

Daybreak

The woke up abruptly, the sun beginning to assault my eyes with full fury. I groaned with annoyance, not knowing what today would bring. The pain I felt in my chest was outrageous, as if I had been stabbed and were bleeding, though when I looked down, nothing had changed. There wasn't any blood, any bruisng, nothing but my pale skin greeted my sore eyes. It couldn't be because of him.. I was slapped in the face abruptly with a shocking realization.. I was still in the truck..

A deafening silence rang in my ear, the birds no longer chirped, the squirrels didn't cheep, all that I heard was my own panicked breath.. In and out, in and out, feeling my diaphram expand and contract rapidly along with a rising and falling of my chest. It shouldn't be this quiet. Why is it this quiet?! I looked over my shoulder, fully anticipating to see nothing but an empty seat, though there he was; sleeping peacefully. A soft smile crept it's way back on to my face, a subtle blush tinting my cheeks in the process. I shook my head to simply dismiss the thought that revolved around cuddles and kisses, those were for the weak. Love isn't worth the pain. Love is for the weak. Or atleast, that's what I keep telling myself.

I kept my gaze focused on the trees that danced in the humid breeze, carrying all sorts of simmering leaves with them; though my eyes always seemed to wander back over to him, the blush and smile returning. I couldn't help myself, I just felt like even the presence of him soothed my bleeding heart with all forms of warm and fuzziness people would describe to you when they were in love. A sinking fact snapped me out of my pathetic lovey dovey induced coma; it was quiet. I didn't see his chest rising and falling, I didn't hear his snores or quiet yawns, not even the occasional shifting of fabric against fabric. I sat up and rushed over to the opposite side of the truck, immediantly slipping my hands under his t-shirt to check his pulse and begin CPR, only to feel something grab my wrists tightly. I let out a panicked squeak, instictively pulling backwards, several anxious cries coming from me. I sounded like a fox trapped in a bear trap, I wasn't suppose to be there, and now that I was caught, I freaked out. 

"Woah. Shh.." He whispered, placing his finger over my lips, his thumb wiping away the salty tears that had begun to dribble down my cheeks. 

"You weren't breathing," I replied in more of a whimper than whisper, my voice cracking with embarrassment. I expected him to take my hand and place it back at his side with the utter most disgust and poignance, though he just kept it there, quietly looking into my eyes. He didn't seem to mind, and infact he seemed to enjoy my company.. But why? I am nothing more than a nuisance to him, nothing more than another mouth to feed, nothing more than a waste of space and oxygen. 

"It's okay.." He reminded me, a soft smile rising to his face before he shut his aqua eyes. His grip loosened on my hand as he dozed off into a deep and sound sleep, my heart beginning to sink into the pit of stomach as he did. People don't usually sleep like this... Ever since three years ago, no one sleeps like that, because they know it'll get them killed, yet here he is, just sleeping as if there was no tomorrow.. Which was true, but that's not the point. 

A few hours had passed before I looked over at him again, and I figured I must've fallen asleep watching the leaves dance in the humid wind. He still laid there, just as still and unmoving as before. People don't do that. They don't just stop breathing.. Unless they are dead of course, but this was something else.

The sun had already began to dip below the tree tops, bringing the humid wind down with it. I knew this time well, it was about an hour each day, where you could go outside, there was no wind, and the temperatures were bareable. I glanced back over to him silently, watching his chest rise and fall once more.. I'm not even going to try to figure out what's going on. 

I quickly unlocked the door and gropped the side of the door for the door handle. I opened the door ever so slightly, so none of the freezing wind would fill the truck. A small scream escaped from my mouth as my hand grazed up against the hot metal of the truck. Once more I felt like a fox in a trap, writhering and twisting my hand to try to peel off the skin that had fused itself to the hot metal in seconds. I could smell the blood begin to trickle onto the boiling plate of metal, simmering into a foul and disguiting odor of death and decay.  I bit the inside of my lip with my canine teeth in hope to prevent another scream, so he wouldn't wake and ask a thousand questions; which was the last thing I needed. With a satisfying, yet grostequely tear, similiar to what it sounds like when you rip paper, my hand popped off the side of the truck. I stumbled backwards in disbelief at the flap of flesh that was now my hand, but I had to keep going, I had to move on, and there was no time to waste.