10
I grab a few books from my bookshelf in my old apartment. Moby Dick, Sherlock Holmes, Physics, Science and Medicine are all the books I grab. I shove them in my pack. Glancing at my bed, I debate whether to take my bedding. I shake my head. Fuck it. I grab it.
I was too angry to think about really deciding or figuring out what I was going to do with stuff. I even grabbed dad's old medical journals and notes; I wanted to be a doctor like him but it doesn't mean I am going to treat people.
My pack is too full to obtain my bedding so I roll it into a cylinder and use the belt straps on the backpack to secure it. Once I am done I sit and look at the room. It's been a long time since I have been here. My leg shakes from anticipation. I will have to leave soon and never recrudesce. Will there be a time when I can come back? And if there is a chance of living here, would I return? Dogmeat sits on the other side of the room, staring at me. I know he was concerned about how I was feeling; having been through so much.
I lay my head in my hands and look at the cold, metal floor. Would it be too painful? The only reason I would recoil back in this metal box was if I had children. They would be safe and isolated from the outside dangers, which is exactly what my father did.
But I never really gave much thought to having kids, especially after escaping. In real depth of the thought one outturn comes up, I am never going to have kids. There are too many dangers for the child to face. And losing a child of my own, I know my heart couldn't bare it.
It is also unfair to put a hopeful, glorious joy out in this sack of shit world we live in. Nothing but murder, pain, greed, and evil lurks in the shadows, and not only that but placed into a wasteland full of dust and heat. Nothing to really hope for in this life… but to stay alive.
I sigh and give a mental goodbye to the place I grew up in. Grabbing my bag, I leap up. When I leave the apartment I don't look back to see the door shut behind me. But I hear the hiss of the electric door close and that is enough to push a sorrowful breath of air out of my lungs. I move on leaving from the way I came, but to my regret I walk into Butch. By the look on his face, I could tell that he knows me never coming back. Dogmeat sighs but sits down. Butch looks down at the dog and gives a feeble smile. I take a deep breath.
"Thanks, Nosebleed, for uh, helping the tunnel snakes being able to leave." He says, nervously scratching the back of his neck. When I see his hair shine in the fluorescent lights, I know he put gel in his hair. I think Freddie didn't have any because Butch took all of it. I hide a chuckle by looking down.
"No problem, Butch. Just being the fucking good girl you have always known." I say. I wish I wasn't always so good. There are times when I wish I took no shit and no one ever walked all over me. I sigh and look up at him. His blue eyes are just what I remember, aquamarine with a sapphire ring around the outside. But every now and then, in the light I can see little teal diamonds around in his irises. I bet in the wasteland sunlight that I could see their radiance.
"I heard you have to leave." He says. I nod narrowing my eyes. The feeling of the utter betrayal lingers in my stomach. Butch sighs.
"It's a shame you have to go. But you'll make it out there. I'm sure of it." He says. I give a weak smile. "Maybe I will see you on the outside." he adds. I give a slight nod.
"Maybe." I agree. I walk past him, just sliding my shoulder by his chest. My shoulder tingles with goosebumps.
"And hey, Nosebleed." He starts. I stop and turn to him. Dogmeat continues down the stairs. I guess patience is not his strong point. A smile spread across his striking face and I could tell that his next comment will be a sincere. "It was good to see you."
I smile and continue down the stairs and follow Dogmeat. It was good to see you too, Butch.