AM13 Outbreak Shorts

One Year On - Twenty Five (Emma)

Emma

The mush in my hands is killing me.

Knowing what it is makes it worse. A squirrel. At least, it was, once upon a time, before starvation got the better of me and I ate it. I put it in my mouth and chewed it, swallowing it as if it were a normal thing to do.

Who the hell have I become?

I used to want to campaign for animal rights, I was almost a vegan for goodness sake, and now because I'm out here in the world with no food, nothing to drink, and not a friend in the world, I've lost it. Everything about myself and who I used to be.

Now, I'm just a monster who eats roadkill.

I could think it's better because I didn't actually kill it, but it doesn't help. I still cannot believe what I've done, what it's doing to me.

I'm disgusting. The absolute worst.

I haven't ever been a big fan of myself, but now it's turned to hate. Even starvation shouldn't make me who I've become. I don't even recognize myself. Not that I've seen a mirror in a very long time, but that's barely relevant. I don't want to. God knows what I look like. Not me, that's for sure.

It isn't right. I wish I was back at home with my parents. However crazy they are, it's better than this. Or Rachael. I wish I was with her. I should've left when she did. I could be with her now, with other people, living a better life than this. This isn't an existence for anyone.

Some people must be existing in some way, surely? Everyone can't be lost and alone like me. I must be the exception to the rule rather than the norm.

To be honest, I'm shocked that I've lasted this long. I should be dead by now. I don't have any survival skills or anything. Why aren't I dead? What is it about me that's allowed me to remain alive for this long? Am I special somehow? Or unlucky? It could be both.

"I want to die," I try to mutter, but I'm too parched, my mouth is too dry and filled with squirrel blood and guts to get the words out. It's more of a groan.

I look to all the beasts around me, not close enough to smell me, but near enough for me to be acutely aware of them all the time, wishing I could plead with them to just kill me already, but they don't. They never do.

I'm invisible, but then again, I have spent my entire life being invisible. I suppose there's no reason for that to change now. Just because the world has ended, why would a lifetime of being ignored?

Just for once, I would like someone to just see me. But that's a dream that'll never be realized now. All I can do is keep going until it all ends.

One way or another, this has to end.