Ashes Of Angeline

Part I

I'm sorry the place was such a mess. It wasn't my fault of course, but rather the other people that came before you. I remember in the very beginning, after the first disaster happened, everyone came in and stole the expensive things. I know, it's odd to think that for some people, their first course of action after the apocalypse begins is to collect all the laptops and fine china.

            I know you weren't like that, because you were still around after an entire six months after it began. Besides, you knew what to look for, even if most of it was stolen weeks before you came wondering into my house.

            It was the back door that let me know you had entered my house. Locked in dark basement, I usually relied on my ears to figure out what was occurring above me. There were a few of you, I could tell that from the shifting weight on the floorboards above me. Glass, smashed in one of the early break-ins cracked beneath your feet as you entered.

            You and your fellow survivors scavenged my house for things that would help you. I was used to this happening, and I let my eyes flutter shut as I waited for you to leave with your rucksacks full of canned goods and blankets. I wondered absently what was left, if anyone had found my small supply of batteries for my camera I kept in the top drawer of my desk. Was there a girl in your group my age? Would she be pulling apart my dresser for new things to wear?

            The door at the top of the stairs made a small noise as the handle turned, but would not open. You weren't the first to try it, and I knew soon enough you would give up and move on with the raid.

            A small, half clicking and half scratching noise drifted to me as someone tried to pick the lock. Was it you trying to enter that day? Or was it one of your buddies who had a curious mind? It didn't matter of course, because the same thing had been tried by many others before. Nobody could resist a locked basement during raids. Locked basements always screamed the opportunity for new, undiscovered supplies.

            Eventually, unlocking the door seemed to become a lost cause.      

            The minutes ticked by slowly, yet less sluggish than usual. Darkness and solitude can make even the simplest noises above a person interesting. As time went by, the noises grew louder. The sound of drawers being sifted through was replaced by the heavy scraping of things against the floor as your search became more thorough.

            A new sound, long forgotten pierced my ears. The temperature seemed to drop, and I sat up from my spot on the dust layered floor as a ray of light stretched across the walls by the stairs.

            It wasn't your silhouette in the doorway, for it was too short and too thin. The head turned, and a young boy’s voice spoke in tune with the movement of the figure's lips. “Told you it was the right key!” The voice hollered.

            Footsteps approached the landing, the beam of light on the wall becoming fractured by the bodies in the now open doorway. “It kind of smells.” A female's voice said, the voice more developed than the young boy's.

            “Well it is a basement.” The boy replied.

            I was crawling further back into the corner when you spoke. Of course, I didn't know it was you then, how could I have? Your voice was casual though, and it held an undertone of excitement. “Who knows what's down there, this door must've been locked for months.”

            “So...Ladies first?” The young boy spoke uneasily.

            A shadow moved forward, not the petite figure of the female but instead your broad shouldered form. I expected the steps to groan beneath you, to snap and send you sprawling. It was silly of me to expect such a thing, for it had only been shut for around six months. Still, I held my breath as you moved down the first few steps slowly. “I don't suppose there's a flashlight one of you would like to lend me up there, is there?” You asked.