Coffee Break

Survival

tw; mentions of death in some graphic detail

It's been a few weeks since everything collapsed in front of me, the monstrosity of the wrecks the buildings falling left the rest of us bleeding out on the cracked concrete: Most of the others who were the victims of the collapse died instantly, but the screams of them plummeting down to the floor haunt me, then came the almost slap like noises that deafened us as they died on the cement. Their bodies torn into a million pieces from when the walls broke apart and were kicked into them via gravity.

Their faces seemed surreal, nothing could compare to what they looked like on their death bed. My blood soaked jeans making it clear to me that I do in fact need medical attention, from when I fell into a brick wall with the wave of pressure that knocked me off of my feet almost instantly. There is only a few others here- alive- there's no signal anywhere, the lines have been cut and tangled everywhere. It's basically just us now, alone in a kingdom of nothing. No power, no friends, no family. It's survival of the fittest now, and I don't want to go down with anyone.

I can't die now. I have things to do. My red headphones barely cling to life, but managed to pull through to link to my cracked phone. The only use of my phone now is for music, anything else doesn't work. There's no working apps, no people to even talk to, there's just me and an inanimate object that I've been attached to since I was an early teen. Snapchat hasn't worked for a few days, it's like it new the world wasn't going to endure the violence, it shut down with no warning.

It's gotten quite lonely believe it or not, the only people here now are older people, the boomers,  that think they know better than the younger ones that got through the first bit of danger. But they will surely die after a few days, their wounds deep, affecting their definite way of life, they won't want to carry on, I bet £20 to myself on if they die. Because it probably will happen.

The people and I don't get along, they don't know me, i don't know them. They call me dickward sometimes, but I also get bastard too, but I go by ki -pronounced key- but they would rather call me something I'm not than my name. They know me as the kid from 3 blocks away that stays quiet and listens to music, but little do they know. I've been planning this attack for quite a while. It was to lure these people out- so I can finally put these assholes down- trust me they deserve it.

But for now, I walk away from them, pitying them for their way of life.