Surviving the Darkness

Chapter 11 The Drawing

I have a piece of advice for everyone, never take sleep for granted. I always had up until now. But now want it more than ever. Aisling had another one of her nightmares last night. What she said still rings in my head.

"The bad guys were chasing us, Sky, it was in the gray land, they wanted us for our powers."

I tried to get more out of her but I couldn't. She just leaned into me with a blank, disturbed look in her eyes. Every night I hear the screams. Every night I sleep with her. Every night I wonder what's wrong. What was wrong with her? What was the gray land? What powers?
And now here I sit thinking, coffee mug in hand and bags under my eyes. Dad would have known what to do. He always did. Whether it be to pick what color unicorn was best or business with his law firm. I wish he could have seen Aisling, just once. I want her to have the bond I had with him. To feel that fatherly love.
No school today since its Saturday but I still felt as if its Monday morning. Aisling sole focus is on a sheet of paper laid on the kitchen table. I watch her frenzied movement of the crayon as it rips across the page. She was a pretty good artist but mostly drew cats, so many cats. I sure that a cat is her spirit animal. Sometimes a soulless jerk and sometimes a cuddle fluff ball.

"Aisling what are you drawing,"

'The gray land"

'Can I see it?' I questioned.

"Sure" she answered dully, the dreams seemed to sucking more life out of her than me.

Her movements were less steady and everything about her seemed to slow down. Her demeanor and physical self was that of a sick person. So moody and not caring. Her eyes that used to bounce with light and smarts seemed to dull. Quite literally actually, her eyes physically seemed to have changed color, from bright emerald green to dark dull green. Just like a leaf would before changing color.

I shook my head slowly and squinted my eyes closed in thinking. It was probably just lack of sleep. I opened my eyes to the drawing in front of me. Children should never have to draw something this disturbing. Everything was gray and desolate but that wasn't the most disturbing part. Bodies were lay on the ground with cold, unfeeling eyes, like rag dolls. Ugly red sores covered the white-gray skin. Even in the childlike scrawl in was one of the most horrific things I have ever seen. Dead trees and wilted grass all the same color, gray. Like a dust that covered the land. The gray land.

My sister must have been watching my face.

"The bomb made it that way" her voice had taken on a flat tone.

"What bomb what are you talking about?"

"Keeuh did it to kill us all."

"Who's Keeuh, what are talking about Ashy?"

But she didn't say a word. Instead she studied the floral print of the tablecloth on the kitchen table. I didn't want to push her. That might just make her not want to talk even more. But way or another I needed to get her to talk.

Thank you for reading! I would have updated earlier but I was having serious writing block. Please leave a comment on what you think or any ideas you have for the story!:)