To The Grave

Chapter 48. Marty. Day 364.

I stared up at the mesh netting protecting us from the rest of the world. Stars covered the sky, like white and yellow paint splatters across the universe. I sat up, rubbing my eyes. I could feel the permanent bags under them. I looked over at my sleeping brother. I crawled over his legs carefully avoiding touching him. I grabbed a knife and a gun, unzipping the tent.

The fire was still burning, casting a flickering light across the camp. A few people sat quietly around it's warmth, none of them bothering to look away as I rushed past.

I looked around quickly, scanning the path that lead down to us. I shoved the weapons into my pocket, shaking my head. I was just paranoid. But I still wished I had a flashlight.

I walked across the sand, pulling my hoodie in place. My feet pushed me past the fire, closer to the water. I shivered in the breeze, standing on the edge of the water.

The moon shimmered above the water, reflecting down across the waves. The air was salty as the water lapped down on itself.

"What keeps you up?" A voice asked. I turned, squinting hard to find a body in the dark. Jackson stood still, looking incomplete without Holden there to fill the space beside him.

I scratched the top of my head, my free hand gripping the knife in my hoodie pocket. "I just couldn't sleep."

He took a step closer nodding. His brother's hat rested on his head, the bill facing behind him. "Who can these days?" He pushed the words out, trying to make them sound like a joke.

Silence fell between us. I moved my hand to fidget with my eyebrow ring, unsure of what to say next. The water filled the awkward silence, bubbling and crashing into the sand. A pattern perfected over the last 4.5 billion years. The waves built up, collecting themselves only to crash into the land and retreat back into the ocean.

"Look kid, you're still young. You haven't lost everything. There's still a chance this could get better for you. You could-"

I rolled my eyes cutting him off, "I'm not going to kill myself, can you just fuck off."

He let a tired, defeated sigh escape his throat, "Whatever you say." He walked away, leaving me in the quiet dark.

I squatted down, shoving my head to my knees, pulling my glasses off. I shoved my hands against my face, trying to feel something.

Everything felt so dull for the last six months, the mindless walking from city to city and back to the beach. The near starving and working to the bone. I pressed my hand into my eyebrow piercing.

I moved my fingers, unscrewing the a small ball from the barbell, slipping it out of place. I felt my empty eyebrow, noticing the small indents were it had rested against my skin for over a year now.

I threw the small metal pieces into the ocean, listening for it to hit the water. The satisfaction never came, instead leaving me waiting as the water crept up, touching my shoes.