It's dark.
Pitch black.
No light.
No sound.
Nothing.
I can feel the ants knawing at my fresh wounds, sinking their fangs into the raw flesh. I taste my own salty blood as it trickles out of my mouth and down my chin and neck. I have no idea where I am. No idea how I got here. I can't remember anything. It's all a white blur.
The pain is getting worse and worse, intensifying with every shaky breath. I slowly pull myself up, buckling my legs in an attempt to stand. But the pain prevents me from going far. I'm only able to lift my knees before I collapse back into the same position. I can feel tears accumalating in the corners of my bloodshot eyes, stinging as they pour over my lower lids.
Why. Why me! Why the hell is this happening to me?
I try to stand up again, having regained a bit more strength. But it's not enough to get me on my feet. I struggle before letting my muscles give out, and falling flat on my back.
"God." I choke out. My tongue feels like a dry knife stabbing the inside of my mouth. The insides of my cheeks are like sandpaper. I can hardly get my voice to leave my lips.
"Why are you doing this to me...? I thought... you had a plan for everyone. That's what...Father Marston told me. Everyone has a destiny...that they can't escape. That's just the way it is. A-And this...this is your plan for me? Is this supposed to be punishment for my sins?"
My heart turns over in my chest. "I know...I didn't stop Eric from beating up the kid...I know! And that other time...where I had a chance to stop that man from robbing the store. I could've done something, but I didn't. Because I'm weak. Because I'm a damn coward! He killed that woman and her baby..."
Their screams were still fresh in my ears, their frightened faces branded into my memories.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry...
"But please, I'll do anything you ask. Just please give me something. Give me a sign that this won't last forever. Give me a sign that it's not impossible to get out of this dark Hell. Give me a sign that there's hope!"
After a few moments of empty silence, my eyes scan the streams of blood running down my leg and across the ground like tangled rivers. I followed the trails and find that it led to something jutting out of the melted shadows. I squinted my eyes. It looked like a long, thick tree branch. I lifted an eyebrow.
Is that supposed to be my sign? A tree branch?
Not very reassuring...
I then shrugged my shoulders.
Oh well. It'll have to do.
I can use that branch as a crutch and get the hell out of here.
I grabbed the branch and brought it closer to me, striking the blunt end against the concrete and using it as support to lift myself up. Finally, I managed to make it on both of my feet. Crumbles of dirt fell off my clothes, and gravity worked the pouring blood to now run downwards, instead of to the sides of me. Even though the branch was useful, the pain in my wounds kept getting worse, until it felt like a white-hot stabbing pain all over. My legs violently trembled against the force of my own weight. I placed one foot in front of the other, then repeated the method with the other foot. I started heading west. Hopefully that would lead me to the nearest road.
As I started walking slowly, all those memories, those painful memories start overflowing in my head. Emily. Travis. My whole family. Their laughter and smiles start flashing through my mind. I try to remember the good times. Yes, I had good times. I, Derrick Ender, used to not be the sad, miserable person that I am now. I did have good times. But that's what war does to you.
I was a whole different person before the war. Before the hopelessness. Before the screams, the horror, the cries, and the pain.
Before the apocalypse.