Obliterated (h.s)

t h r e e

t h r e e- Distressed

I wasn't entirely sure as to how long I had been unconscious, nor when it had occurred. Being that the last thing I remember was sobbing quite pathetically, as I cradled my wounded arm. For, when my eyes fluttered agape, I was yet again hopelessly gazing at the grey sky before me. A cool, uncomfortable breeze nipping at my bare skin. 

My hands feverishly grasped my pale neck, caressing the sore area. I couldn't seem to remember the last time I had put actual fluids into my dissipating body. For, I could feel my insides itching tirelessly for water. 

Releasing a hoarse cough of desperation, I clumsily rotated myself onto my stomach. My filthy palms clashing firmly against the dense concrete beneath me, attempting to ascend upwards. I was disastrously weak, barley capable of bringing myself to my fragile knees. But, I managed to wobbly scramble upright. Feeling lightheaded, my ears rang loudly, giving off the impression that I was about to collapse to the floor in an uncontrollable fit of unconsciousness. But, fortunately, I was able to pull myself together. Partially, that is. 

As my eyes processed the scenery I had breathed in before involuntarily passing out, I presumed I wouldn't be able to lie upon the concrete forever. For, the area lurking before me seemed in no way suitable for life. Yet, I was hopeful that at least one of the abandoned homes lying upon the ruble consisted of basic necessities. And, there was only one way to find out.

My black boots leisurely shuffled about ransom objects littering the ground. Trying my best not to humorously trip and face plant, all while I proceeded towards a deteriorating building. The former habitation seemed the most stable out of the many distributed about the land. Not only that, but it was consequentially the closest. 

As I entered the unkept structure, I absorbed my musty surroundings. Obviously, it was a former home. Children presumably once laughed about the long hallways, their father and mother happily cooking a meal within the large kitchen as they did so. Delicate family photos probably decorated the interior of the home. Whereas now, they lay shattered upon the grimy floor. The memories of the people in whom once littered the disarrayed house hidden beneath obscure debris.

I lazily placed my fingertips upon the contaminated wall, guiding myself towards the kitchen. Hopeful that I may be able to find a source of water, food, or even a possible weapon. Assuming that it was better to be safe than sorry.

My eyes hastily scanned the polluted scenery. The cabinets previously attached to the enclosure lay scattered about the ground. Rusted metal cans, broken chairs, and even emptied trashcans littering the cluttered space. I released an uneven breath, shuffling over towards the moldy fridge located to my far right. My filthy fingertips lacing around the petite handle, sluggishly yanking it agape.

Almost vomiting at the putrid smell, I gagged. Onlooking several decaying slabs of meat, in which were horrifically coated with mold, and a singular rotten tomato. The items so corrupted, that everything seemed as if it had been melted. 

All and any liquid that may have been stored within the refrigerator had vanished. For, the place had obviously been ransacked. And, I presume water would have been the first thing people would have been searching for. Not to mention the majority of the food had been taken as well. 

I exhaled with frustration, clasping my palm around the handle once more and slamming it shut. My head whirling around in the opposing direction, I quickly took notice of a damaged dishwasher. A miniature smile making its way onto my face all while I scavenged over to it. Hopeful to find a dinner knife, or maybe even a mallet of some sort. 

Prying the object ajar, I groaned in defeat. For, it was completely emptied. Not even a spoon nor a fork situated inside.

Figuring the kitchen was not going to be much help, I departed that specific area of the home. Roaming over towards what seemed like a living room, I pursed my chapped lips. The once presumably white couch lay on its backside, stained with black soot. A flipped coffee table was planted within the direct center of the territory, a shattered mug lying beside it.