Month of 5 Day 6&7: Life Before the World Ended & Rescue
The kitchen floor. It's hard and cold. You were shivering, but someone must've turned on the heat because you've stopped.
Why... were you on the floor again? Why were you here, in the kitchen?
The light is low, but there's a comforting gold hue to it. You hear the sound of something sizzling in a pan. Onions, you think, for the stew.
A familiar voice rings through the home. A friendly, familiar voice that makes you smile. You love that voice. You love that person. You're here together to celebrate.
So why are filled with so much grief? Why are tears stinging your face? Why is there a sob racking your body?
The voice calls to you again. It says a name you almost don't recongize.
No, no, now it's saying something different, except, something's changed. It's distant now and...wait... it's not the same voice.
You can't make out what it's saying.
Warm hands wrap around your own and, oh! Oh... you weren’t so warm after all. You're , oh, you're freezing.
You suck in a shaky beath. You're not sure if it's shaking from the cold or the sobs.
You blink and for a moment, the golden light wavers. You're body aches and all you want to do is slip back into the comforting golden glow of your celebration with loved ones.
That voice again. A sense of urgency rises in you.
This is wrong. You shouldn't be here. This person on the kitchen floor. It's not you. Not anymore.
There's that voice again. Your mind is moving slow, like you're running through a dream.
That's you. You. You are Five and OW! You've been slapped?! What the hell?
Your face stings from the force of it. You blink and the golden light snaps into blue, winter twilight. You're in the forest. You were on a run. You were... attacked? There's blood on your brow. Someone struck you. Left you there for dead. You would be too, if you weren't Runner 5. If you weren't a survivor.
"It's getting better, I think."
Jody. It's Jody. She's put a towel beneath you, to keep the ground from sapping your warmth, and she's put a blanket over you. She's put your head in her lap, and she's holding your hands to warm them. You give them a squeeze and she smiles, looking down to see you're eyes are lucid again.
"Five, oh god Five! You really scared us. Janine nearly came out here herself. That's how bad it was," her voice trails off because she's noticed the way your lips are pressed together to dam up the grief.
"What? Oh sorry, Sam yeah. yeah Five's, erm, Five's awake, but somethings wrong."
That memory had felt so real. It was like you were there, back where home used to be. The golden light is still there when you close your eyes and every blink is a knife tearing open a wound you had forcefully cauterized long ago. It's digging and tearing and you think the grief might just be too much. You've lost so much and this damned apocalypse just keeps taking more. It takes and it takes and you can't- "Five,"
Jody's taken your face in her hands. You look up at her, with your head still resting in her lap, "It's going to be okay, Five, help's coming."
And the damn breaks. Tears are streaming down your face and you mourn. It feels like the first time you've truly let yourself do that. You've always had too many people relying on you before. Honor the dead by surviving. That's what you told yourself. It was the next best thing, because you couldn't afford to mourn.
But now? In Jody's arms, clawing your way back from the brink? Now seems like a good a time as any. Even better, it seems like the perfect time. No one's relying on you for anything more than to survive, and it's the only way think you can- by letting yourself feel the price of it. You live, you survive, and damn it, that means you lose, and you mourn.
You must've drifted off sometime after Jody pulled you into an embrace. It was much warmer that way, and her arms around you gave a safe barrier for the grief to churn.
You're in a car. It's late into the night and there's music playing softly from the radio. Moonlight casts shadows on the people around you.
What were you doing again?
Oh right, a movie. You'd just gone to see a movie with your friends. You wince. There's a raw, open wound there. It fills your senses. You miss this. You miss your friends.
You're... still in Jody's arms. You're in a jeep. It really is late into the night. She seems relieved that you've stirred, and you hear Radio Abel banter fill the silence. It's warmer now. Almost cozy.
You're in bed. It's early morning and there's birds chipping. You hear someone going about their morning routine. They'll be having breakfast soon. You should join them. The gapping wound yawns wide, filling your senses with a pain and grief you can't bear. It's so intense, it may as well be physical.
A hand squeezes your shoulder. You open your eyes and see Jody. She's drowned in the orange morning light. Birds really are chipping outside.
You feel guilty. You have friends and family here now. It doesn't make it hurt any less. Jody's sat next to you with her hand laying over your shoulder as it shakes to your sobs.
"It's alright, 5. Take your time. We all took ours. Now it's your turn."
