The wasteland is a place where the weak will not survive. I've lived on its vast sandy plains for as long as I can remember. I've adapted to life here, grown numb to the harsh environment currently splayed out miles each way in front of me.
The only living company I've had for the last few years of my pointless life has been Pontiac, my bad ass furry companion. Pontiac is a massive desert wolf who found me on the verge of death one particularly sunny day, and dragged me by the collar of my shirt into the shade of a shallow cave. He saved me that day, I owe him my life and so he's been with me from then on. The name Pontiac came from my beautiful car, the souped-up Pontiac Firebird that he found a few days later, which had been left all alone while the remains of her owners decayed on the ground beside her. Starvation got them.
While Pontiac and I have bonded over the years, I do not understand dog and therefore have not had a proper conversation with anyone living other than myself in a very, very long time. That being said, my mind is a shattered mess so I assume my conversations with anyone other than myself would make no sense anyway. The heat in this godforsaken place, along with the trauma of certain things that I try to block out, has caused me to become a little unhinged to say the least.
I know there is something wrong with me. I admit it. My mind is a confused broken chaos; I see things that I know are not there, I talk to my hallucinations as if they are real and I have nightmares that make living in the wasteland seem like paradise. That's were Pontiac comes in again, see, my little friend has caught on to my little ticks. He brings me out of them like a curtain being pulled back, he tugs on my hands with his teeth, nipping at my fingers, he yapsat me and howls and just like that- I'm back. Pontiac is truly the best thing that has happened to me in this world.
Realizing that her thoughts had gotten away from her again, Wraith threw herself back into the present, searching for a nice sheltered place to park the car and get some rest. After driving through the rocky terrain for a few minutes, she spotted a few big boulders to her left. She cautiously rolled up near them, always hesitant that others might have the same idea as her. Opening her door, Pontiac jumped out ready to scout out the area and alert her if he saw anything.
About 5 minutes later the yellowish-grey wolf made his way around the side of one of the boulders, ears still perked from being alert. Trotting back to the car, he gave her a yip confirming that the area was safe for the night. She drove the rest of the way over to the boulders, parking the Firebird next to the biggest, hiding the car from at least a few angles. She grabbed her makeshift kitchen, consisting of a lighter, a cup and some twigs, and made her way over to where Pontiac had made himself comfortable. Settling down beside him, she begun to cook them both up the nice big lizard that Pontiac had caught earlier on in the day, making sure that the small fire she had created could not be seen from a distance.
Slowly rotating the stick the lizard had been impaled on, Pontiac gave a small whine, followed by a sniffle. "Quit whining P, it'll be ready in a second" She muttered, her voice gravely due to sand inhalation and lack of use. Poking the lizard one last time to make sure it was ready, she removed it from the fire, dousing the flames immediately to avoid unwanted confrontation from any stray scouts. Ripping the lizard apart, she gave half to Pontiac, who scoffed it down in 3 seconds flat. 'He will definitely regret that later when he gets hungry again', she thought to herself, slowly eating her own half of the lizard.
Later on, after she had given Pontiac his water for the night, she sat in her car sipping sparingly at her own water with Pontiacs head lounging on her thigh from across the passenger seat. With all of her stuff packed neatly away in her car and all the windows up and doors locked, she leaned her head back against the headrest and shut her eyes, ready to face the terrors that came with sleep.
"Wraith baby don't look, don't look Wraith!" Screamed a terrified voice. "Run, RUN WRAITH, DON'T LET THEM CATCH YOU" The little girls body turned from the horrific scene, legs struggling to outrun her pursuers, chasing after her with laboredbreaths and animalistic grunts. Behind her the womans voice shouted again, though this time the sound was more distant, "Never look back Wraith, you will make it, I love you s-" Her voice was cut off by a bellowing gunshot, followed by a dull thud, then dead silence. The little girls tear streaked eyes were too frightened to turn around, too afraid to see what had happened to the woman she called mother.
The laughter that followed the eerie silence was terrifying. It increased slowly, louder and louder, faster and faster, till it was right behind the sobbing girl, throttling her with its ferocity, shaking her to her core.
Ready to meet her maker, the little girl spun sharply towards the laughter to find an image that would haunt her for the rest of her life-
Wraith started out of her dream with a jump, Pontiacs mad barking rendering her momentarily confused. After coming back to reality from the dream, Wraith realized that Pontiac was warning her about something. Whilst reaching down to grab a hold of the knife strapped underneath the dash board, the window next to her was smashed open, pieces of glass flying everywhere adding to the chaotic scene. Leather clad arms reached in through the now gaping window and ripped Wraith out through the broken frame by her shoulders, giving her multiple cuts and scrapes along her side in the process. After being thrown onto the rough sandy ground a few feet away, she heard the figure pull down the windows metal slider, creating a barrier between her and Pontiac, who was now barking and snarling at the invader through the sliders small circular holes.
Getting up before the attacker could lay their hands on her again, she realized that she had managed to grasp hold of the knife before being unceremoniously tossed out her window, and the big Bowie hunting knife was now secure in her right hand. Looking up, she finally got a good look at the person- now obviously a man, who had barged in uninvited.