One More Minute

One more minute.

I just need to stay awake one more minute.

It sounds so simple. It's only sixty seconds. Just one more minute.

But after that minute, I'll need to make it through another minute. And another.

The crackling sounds of the radio is too soothing. I just want to drift off so badly. Lie down on my tempting bed and let sleep envelop me.

I want to fall asleep one more time. I want to dream one more time.

I want to wake up one more time.

The radio static somehow sounds louder and I jolt awake. I look at my hands. A few days ago they were perfectly manicured—now the nails are chewed and my skin is covered in little cuts. 

All in the fruitless attempt to stay awake after the caffeine was gone. All the stimulants are gone.

Why won't the government just announce they have found a cure? I lurch up and stagger over to the radio—as if that will somehow make it say the good news.

"Say something! For God's sake say something!" I shout—or at least try to shout.

It's no more than a weak whisper.

I move across the room and look into the mirror. For a second I think that I fell asleep and already died. My skin is so pale, the dark circles are so prominent and my lips are so dry. Dried blood coats my mouth—I bit my lips too hard trying to stay awake.

A daze takes over me and I stagger into the bedroom. I know I should run—but it calls me like a siren.

There, on my bed, is my husband. His mouth twisted in horror, bloody eyes and a hole in his chest.

"Did you feel it?" I whisper.

I can't do it anymore. I want to lie down with Adam one more time. My quivering body almost falls to the floor as I try to lower myself on the bed. But I make it.

One more time.

The pillow feels like heaven as I rest my head—even as my husband smells like hell.

"I love you," I tell him.

I want to look around one last time, but my eyes are already shut. I'm drifting, but I can still feel everything that is happening to me.

Fire rages through my eyes. Sharp pains erupt in my chest. It feels like acid is forcing itself through my throat.

Then I hear the noise on the radio.

"One more time in case you missed the alert! We have the cure! Stay awake! One more..."

I feel unbearable pain shattering my body—it feels like my soul is being shattered. The pain won't end. Whenever I think I'm dead and free, the pain starts one more time.

And I still hear the radio.

"One more time..."