Chapter 10
Ellie's POV
Joel and I walked back into the house and in the kitchen just to see Jake already at the top of the stairs and shortly after we heard his bedroom door close.
"He doesn't seem to be getting any better," I said.
"I don't know if he ever will," Joel replied mournfully "Back in the day there were things to help people with amnesia, but now we don't have access to those things."
"What are we going to do?"
"There's very little we can do besides hope for the best," Joel answered. Hope for the best. At times in this world that's the only thing you can do and it's a sad reality. "Keep finding something to fight for" is so much is easier said than done. You find something, then lose it, struggle to get it back, see that it's useless, and then try to move, then you find something again and it seems to start all over again. God I fucking hate it. "Ellie," Joel said and broke me out of my thoughts.
"Hmm?"
"You want anything to eat?"
"No I'm fine for now," I replied "I'll be in my room," I said as I began walking upstair. "Come on Ellie, you'll have to be strong and wait for him when he gets better," I thought to myself.
Jake's POV
I sat there on my bed with mum's sketch pad in my lap and a pencil in my right hand. On a blank page I began drawing the faces of mum, dad, my sister and a younger version of myself together. As the details began forming in their faces I started to remember the day it happened, the day everything changed. When mum and dad said they were infected, all the emotions I felt then, the shock, the fear and the despair, all came rushing back to me because I drew this stupid picture.
Then when I looked at my sister's face my mind flashed to the bloater that ripped her to shreds. How we were cornered by, and how I was thinking it was the end and that I was going to die. Then she pushed me out of the way and shouted run only for her to be killed. It should've been me, I should've pushed her out of the way, I should've died. God fucking damnit why? Why did she do it? I didn't deserve it why?
Then I looked at the sketch of myself and saw what I turned into. The innocent child was no longer there anymore, dead with his family but the pain and guilt still lingers. The faces of all I've killed flashed before my eyes and that psychotic grin of mine, it scared the living shit out of me. I began scribbling over my face but I still saw those images and eventually the pencil broke so I ripped out the page, crumpled it into a ball and threw it away. Tears began slowly sliding down my cheeks and I put my face in my palms as I helplessly tried to compose myself. Seeing that there was no improvement I reached into my shirt and pulled out mum's knife, and stared at it for what felt like an eternity. Slowly I removed the cover on it and removed it from my neck. I rolled up my right sleeve and added another cut to the arm that was already littered with them, each a reminder of a battle I've lost with myself. Warm blood slowly began to trickle across my arm but after doing so many times the pain was barely there though it was enough of a distraction from the more deadly thoughts I was having.
My mind began drifting elsewhere to something I didn't recognise, it was an old derelict building Tess was there, Joel was there and so was Ellie. I saw everyone moving around in the scene but I heard no words from anyone, it looked like Joel and Tess were arguing which happened so very sparingly. Ellie broke the silence between the Joel and Tess but I still couldn't hear what anyone was saying. The vision then skipped to Tess in tears which came as a major shock to me, Tess was a strong person who didn't take any bullshit from anyone, so see her in tears means something bad must've happened. The scene then stopped and I was brought back to reality, a wave of sadness came over after those images played in my head, followed by confusion as to what happened and why I was more sad than before. I got up and walked towards the window ignoring the blood that spilled onto my bed and the floor, I opened the window and stared up at the sky as some birds fly by.
Why I am here?
What purpose do I serve?
What is the point in my life?
I questioned as I continued to stare into the clouds.
"To honour those that passed in my place. To fulfil my obligation of living to them. To live for them," I whispered to myself "I guess that's why I'm still here. What role do I play in the script of life? Guess there's only one way to find out."