Imprisoned Till My Last Breath

The silence was palpable, the heat was sweltering and the desert sands were scorching, burning the soles of my feet.  Somewhere in my mind I knew this was a recurring nightmare but that did not stop the flood of memories, fear and sadness come rushing back.  The dream pulled me back in. "Alex." The silence had been broken. "Don't worry I'm right here," I replied, "we'll find dad and then get out of here." 

"Alex, I'm scared ." The innocent face looks up at me. her face wobbles, struggling to stop the flow of tears and that's what haunts me.  A face so young, so blameless with a whole life to live ahead, terrified of what will happen next.

I know every detail.

The look of horror on that face as the mountain crumbles. The look of pain as the rocks and boulders cascade down and finally nothing at all as the face I once loved and would have done anything for is buried under a pile of rubble and dust.  

My scream is lost in the night and I wake up in a cold sweat. Tears pour down my face and my body shakes with sobs.  The memories imprison me and haunt me every night. That day changed me and formed the mess off emotions I now am. The death of the one thing I loved so dearly has torn me apart and nothing can heal my broken spirit that shattered like glass.

The next morning the sun rises, but I do not. I lie in bed, my face devoid of emotion and my body bereft of energy bit my heart full of pain.  I hear my father get up and go through his usual morning routine.  He wasn't affected by my sister's death. Not like I was.  They didn't get along  that great anyway.  Now, we barely talk. He lets me stay in bed all day because he doesn't want to bother with me and I don't want him to.  This arrangement is fine by me.  

I am forced to get up at midday and wander around the silent house. The bare walls, dusty rooms and musty smell drives me crazy. But I can't be bothered to do anything about it. Would things have been different if she were here?  My mind explores different realities but is eventually dragged back to this melancholy one.

My eyes suddenly dart to a photo on the mantelpiece.  A photo that I am certain was not there before.  It shows my mother(she walked out on us when I was 8)and my father smiling.  My hand is in my father's and my mother holds onto the bundle that is my sister. The photo rekindles my sadness and my heart aches.  I wish I could find my way out of this prison.  The prison of my past that constricts me from a life worth living.

But every time I try to focus on something my mind floats back to the desert.  The rocks that fall. The heat that swelters and the anguish that follows. Nothing will expel it from my mind.  It holds me in it's clutches and sucks the life out of me. I am a slave to the misery and a puppet to the grief. It suffocates me like water and covers me like another skin.  I have no freedom and these memories will be the death of me. Imprisoned till my last breath. What a life to live.

Author's Note

Okay it's done. My first story successfully completed. I hope you enjoyed it and don't forget to comment and vote if you did. If you have any constructive criticism then please let me know that too. Thanks for taking the time to read my story. Byeeee!!!!