Conquer the Wasteland

Broken Yet Holding On

There are many theories about what happens to you after you die. One, being you would go up to heaven and be with your family again. The Egyptians, however, regarded death as a temporary interruption. They had this disturbing process of mummifying the body so the soul could later return to it. This belief always fascinated me but I refused to believe it. I did not want to think that we suffered this entire existence only to die and return to the same place of misery. That was just my view on that subject.

Another theory was that there was no life after death, that you would just die and retreat into the dark void of eternal nothingness, never to love or be loved again. That idea downright frightened me. I never wanted to believe that. I knew that there were many other theories, but many of them were so depressing I found it impossible to look any further into that subject.

Most of my nights before the apocalypse, I spent my time thinking about many things. Life after death was often the thought that captivated my mind. I had lost so many people in my life, family, friends, trust, and I truly lost myself in that time. I was in what felt an eternal state of denial. I never wanted to acknowledge the fact that my belief in life after death was wrong, and I would never see my loved ones again. I never wanted to make the horrifying discovery that I would die, only to go into the void, never to be seen or heard from again. The mere thought that this was the only chance at life that I had, was nerve wracking.

The more nerve wracking thought that had entered my mind wasn't another theory on life after death, nor did it dwell on other matters. The only thing that I could think of... was that I had one chance at life, only one, and it was seconds from being ripped away from me, just like everything else. The cold steel the pressed against my throat reminded me of how fragile life truly was. Someone stood behind me, someone who felt they had the right to take my life away, someone who felt they had the right to dictate whether someone lived or died. Maybe I was being overdramatic. It WAS the apocalypse, after all.

Maybe this was just a choice of survival. I had made many of those choices recently, so I could understand that aspect. What I didn't understand, however, was why? I didn't do anything to my attacker. I never hurt anyone living unless circumstances deemed it the only option, and even at that moment, I hesitated, I stalled in hopes that another path would magically appear, but most times that path refused to show its face. That path was as vacant now, in this moment, just the same as all the other times. Only, this very second, I was the one under the blade. I was the one under the hand that completely and utterly controlled whether or not these would become my last moments, and that split second realisation scared me beyond comprehension.

The only thing that I could think, the only things that inhabited my otherwise stricken brain, were concerns for my friends on the other side of that cold, shiny door. That thought increased ten-fold once that nightmarish door creaked open, and I saw the deep, bluish- grey eyes of the man I had come to care for more than any other man in my life.

"Liam..." I croaked

The knife pressed into my neck with cold fury. I gasped quietly, trying to retreat from the deadly steel.

"Mateo?" Liam's voice sounded slightly concerned, but still entirely unaware of the scene on the wall, or the one several feet in front of him. The scene that currently hid in the inky blackness.

"Mat?" Liam stepped forward. He was so close, so near. I wanted nothing more than to run into his arms, for him to hold me, to feel safe. Though, that dream shattered the second he stepped away from me, and was halfway through the doorway.

I couldn't let him leave! I wanted to scream, I wanted to shout to him. So that's exactly what I did.

"Liam!"

The knife pressed so deep into my neck that I had to hold in a whimper of pain. I felt the figure lean closer to me, and a gruff, gravelly voice whispered angrily into my ear. "Shut up."

Liam stepped back into the room, he seemed completely tense, and for the first time since I met him, I saw fear in his eyes.

"Mateo?" He took another step into the darkness, I could see his hand searching for the light switch. I ached to tell him the search was pointless.

"Mateo? Mateo, baby you're scaring me."

Baby. Oh, how that word sent my heart hammering and my thoughts singing. And yet how it stung, because I'd never hear it again. And because it reminded me how selfish I was being.

"Nevermind," I said, pushing my voice into a more cheerful tone. The cold steel of the knife slacked a little and I imagined it wasn't there. When I spoke again, my voice almost sounded gleeful. "Made you look, Flop-Tard. Now get outta here! This is my secret domain and I do not wish to be disturbed."

Liam raised an eyebrow. Go, you idiot, I'm trying to save your life! Please! "So you're the queen... of this dark and-" Liam inhaled. His eyes widened and his eyebrows narrowed. "Mateo, we have to get out of here now. I smell decay!"

The dull knife pressed hard enough against my throat to draw blood. I bit hard on the inside of my cheek to keep from sobbing. "That's just your body odor!"

"Mat, I really don't think I smell THAT bad." He stepped back into the doorway.

"Liam! You can't come in!" My voice wavered slightly, allowing some fear to leak through.

"Why?" He took another step, and I could almost smell his scent, which really was amazing.

I had to think of some excuse fast!

"Hey Liam? Remember that time when I told you about shark wee-" I began.

"HEYO OKAY I AM LEAVING." He retreated out the door, as did my hope for survival. At least Liam and Aislynn would live.

"Bye" I whispered.

The door shut with an echoing slam, the glint of the metal disappearing with the light.