Cass hadn't moved at all since I had put her in her bed. Was this normal for Humans? What am I meant to do if this happened?
I groaned in annoyance. Why isn't there a How To Care For A Human handbook? I thought.
Earlier on I had checked all of Cass's vitals and they seemed fine but that didn't mean that I hadn't stopped checking every five minutes or so.
I went downstairs to the kitchen to rewet the cloth on Cass's head.
Downstairs, I went into the kitchen and over to the sink.
I turned on the tap and shoved the cloth under it.
After I had finished, I turned around and was about to walk back to Cass, but when I turned, Cass was just stood there in the doorway, not saying a word.
"Cass?" I asked quietly. "Are you alright?"
Silence.
"Cass?" I said again.
And again she said nothing.
"Cass, you're scaring me," I said with barely any sound, "say something, Cass, please just say something."
Cass just stood there silently staring off into the distance.
I took her by the arm and pulled her back upstairs to her room.
I pushed her down gently so that she was lying on the bed.
"Cass, just talk to me," I begged, "please,"
I leant down, placed a kiss on her forehead and whispered, "Cass, please, I-I-I l-love you."
Fat tears ran down my cheeks and I kept on making horrible choking sounds.
I love Cass. I will always love Cass. No matter what. She is my sunshine. She is my everything.
And she doesn't know.
YOU ARE READING
Last Of It's Kind
Science FictionIt's the year 2120, and Earth has had a rough few years: oceans rising; polar ice caps melting; all year long heatwaves; at least a million meteorites hitting it, and all other kinds of weird shit. But now there are no humans left, so aliens bring t...
