Kiss Off

Chapter 11

"Okay. Okay," I mutter as I stand, hands flailing around me in some kind of attempt to settle the atmosphere or collect some level of control. I'm not sure exactly, but I can no longer sit here waiting for our last seconds to claim us.

Tilting my head back, I examine the space above our heads. Jagged pieces of wood jut out along the edges of the hole, and defeat threatens to consume me. Even if I could reach the floor above us, I have no clue how I'd manage to maneuver my body over the splintered boards without impaling myself.

Turning my attention to the room around me, I pull out my cell phone and shine the flashlight around the wreckage in search of something... anything. Maybe I can stack all the debris into a pile that's tall enough I'd be able to easily climb out. It seems like the only option for now but I'm clueless as to where I'd even get started.

Shining my light toward the gaping hole above me once more, I find the safest place to exit from and then began sorting through the rubble in search of large cinder blocks and chunks of wood that can offer any kind of assistance. I begin stacking, ignoring Bryson's weak protests from behind me. Clouds of dust thicken the air as I disturb the fallen pieces, but I do my best to ignore the dryness in my throat as I continue to work.

The hours are ticking by and Bryson has long since stopped trying to convince me that my plan is stupid. Glancing in his direction, I find him leaning against a large heap of boards, his eyes closed as he rubs roughly at his temples. I can almost feel the pain radiating from him, which does nothing but spur me on even more.

My arms are burning as I drag a large beam across the ground and secure it against the pile I've built. I test out the stability of the structure by rocking it back and forth with my hands. It sways dangerously and I groan into the stillness. Searching the room, I spot another decent sized piece of wood and hurry to drag it over. I wedge it opposite of the other beam and secure it tightly between the wall and my escape pillar. Giving it another shake, I nearly cry in victory when it barely moves.

Dropping to the ground, I heave a deep breath and rest my head in my hands. I'm so tired. My muscles feel like cooked noodles and my eyes sting from the filth floating around me. Everything aches and I'd like nothing more than to clamber over to Bryson and drop down beside him, my head cushioned in his lap.

But I can't. Bryson needs me more than I need the comfort of him. So instead, I groan into standing and continue stacking planks upon planks until I've finally reached a height that seems possible. Not sparing a second, I begin climbing, one hand against the wall as I edge my way up the large rubble-made tower.

But my foot slips half way up and I come down hard on a lumpy piece of concrete. My elbow erupts in pain as I hiss through my teeth, wetness seeping through my fingers where I hold the wound.

"Ev!" Bryson tries to yell.

He sounds so weak but I don't bother to acknowledge him. If I turn and see the defeat in his eyes, I might just curl up beside him and nestle into that defeat with him. I refuse to do that. Because somewhere deep inside me, I don't believe this could be it. Maybe it's naive of me to think that there's more for us. Maybe it's simply my strong-headedness and determination. Or maybe God is pushing me to keep trying. I'm not sure what the feeling is, but I'm not letting it go. I'm holding tight to it whether I die trying or not.

"Please stop," Bryson begs. "It's not worth it, Everly."

"Yes, it is!" I grunt back, pushing myself to my feet and trying again. "You're worth it." I scream, forcing my feet to push me further up the pile of debris. "I'm worth it. Our lives are worth it!"

He doesn't respond, so I glance over my shoulder to find him watching me. He doesn't even have enough fight in him to argue back. He just watches... waiting for me to either fail or succeed.