going to school, to playing in the park, to seeing her friends, to eating Pop Tarts for breakfast. But she’s not. She’s running for her life through the night, being chased by monsters and slowly turning into one of them herself.
We’re doomed. No matter which way that I look at it, no matter which way I try to decipher the problem. We. Are. Doomed. Yet I still try, my heart refuses to give up—to give her up—even though there really is nothing to give up on anyway. The end is inevitable. It is death, and one way or another, it will come for us.
The night is humid and quiet, leaving me to the darkness of my bleak thoughts. My worries swim around in it, never-ending, restless, warring for something that I cannot give to them or myself: peace.
We have nothing now.
Nothing at all.
We are worse off than we were previously. Tears sting my eyes, the world blurring as I fight to hold them back. What will we do now?
We have nothing.
My body shivers, trembling up and down as it begins to give in—give up. We have nothing, there is no escape from this. Only time…such little time left with each other. It will never be enough. Lilly’s soft snores interrupt my downward spiral into the blackness of my internal misery. I stop pedaling, my mind more exhausted than my weak body. I place one foot on the ground to balance us and the bike, and then I watch her. Her little pink mouth is slightly agape as her soft breath leaves her lips. Her eyes move behind her closed lids, and I wonder what she is dreaming of. She seems so peaceful, and yet so thoroughly exhausted. The tears from earlier are still evident on her cheeks, and I grip my chest—the place where my heart lies just beneath my ribs—as pain burns deep within it.
Is this what it feels like when your heart breaks? I wonder.
A screech in the night echoes out loudly and I jump, the tiny hairs on my arms tingling with recognition of the danger. I look behind us, seeing nothing but darkened blacktop and empty fields. Up ahead there is a large square shape in the distance—a barn, I think it is. I look at the bike and contemplate climbing back on it, pedaling to get us there quicker, but my legs and butt are sore and aching. So I stay standing, choosing to push the bike forward while still awkwardly holding onto Lilly and stopping her from falling out of the small wicker basket.
Despite the adrenalin and the fear, I yawn as I push us onward through the night. My eyelids feel heavy, my body weary. I walk and push and I ignore the dark thoughts that wander my mind until we finally, mercifully, reach the barn. The shadows surrounding it scare me, the shadows that I know will be inside it are even scarier, but I simply can’t go on any further. We have to stop… I have to stop. We’ve been going for hours, and no matter what hunts us, my body needs sleep. I lean the bike against the wooden wall—the side that is currently bright with the glow of full moonlight shining down on it. Lilly mumbles as I pull her from the basket, and she automatically wraps her little arms and legs around me, her face burying into the space between my shoulder and my head, and she falls back to sleep.
I move slowly, cautiously toward the door, dread filling my gut, heavy and foreboding. But I’m at the point of no return. There is nowhere else to go. There is no more I can give right now. One hand is planted beneath Lilly’s butt as I hold her to me, her little body going slack in my arms as sleep takes her deeper. With my other hand I grip the handle of the barn door and pull it open fractionally. I breathe in the warm, rank air that slips out through the small crack, smelling straw and mildew. I pull the door open some more and peer inside, my eyes taking in what they can.
Nothing moves.
Nothing screams.
Nothing comes forth from the blackness within.
I carry Lilly inside and shut the door after me, standing still as my eyes adjust to the deep blackness. I am glad that she is asleep
We’re doomed. No matter which way that I look at it, no matter which way I try to decipher the problem. We. Are. Doomed. Yet I still try, my heart refuses to give up—to give her up—even though there really is nothing to give up on anyway. The end is inevitable. It is death, and one way or another, it will come for us.
The night is humid and quiet, leaving me to the darkness of my bleak thoughts. My worries swim around in it, never-ending, restless, warring for something that I cannot give to them or myself: peace.
We have nothing now.
Nothing at all.
We are worse off than we were previously. Tears sting my eyes, the world blurring as I fight to hold them back. What will we do now?
We have nothing.
My body shivers, trembling up and down as it begins to give in—give up. We have nothing, there is no escape from this. Only time…such little time left with each other. It will never be enough. Lilly’s soft snores interrupt my downward spiral into the blackness of my internal misery. I stop pedaling, my mind more exhausted than my weak body. I place one foot on the ground to balance us and the bike, and then I watch her. Her little pink mouth is slightly agape as her soft breath leaves her lips. Her eyes move behind her closed lids, and I wonder what she is dreaming of. She seems so peaceful, and yet so thoroughly exhausted. The tears from earlier are still evident on her cheeks, and I grip my chest—the place where my heart lies just beneath my ribs—as pain burns deep within it.
Is this what it feels like when your heart breaks? I wonder.
A screech in the night echoes out loudly and I jump, the tiny hairs on my arms tingling with recognition of the danger. I look behind us, seeing nothing but darkened blacktop and empty fields. Up ahead there is a large square shape in the distance—a barn, I think it is. I look at the bike and contemplate climbing back on it, pedaling to get us there quicker, but my legs and butt are sore and aching. So I stay standing, choosing to push the bike forward while still awkwardly holding onto Lilly and stopping her from falling out of the small wicker basket.
Despite the adrenalin and the fear, I yawn as I push us onward through the night. My eyelids feel heavy, my body weary. I walk and push and I ignore the dark thoughts that wander my mind until we finally, mercifully, reach the barn. The shadows surrounding it scare me, the shadows that I know will be inside it are even scarier, but I simply can’t go on any further. We have to stop… I have to stop. We’ve been going for hours, and no matter what hunts us, my body needs sleep. I lean the bike against the wooden wall—the side that is currently bright with the glow of full moonlight shining down on it. Lilly mumbles as I pull her from the basket, and she automatically wraps her little arms and legs around me, her face burying into the space between my shoulder and my head, and she falls back to sleep.
I move slowly, cautiously toward the door, dread filling my gut, heavy and foreboding. But I’m at the point of no return. There is nowhere else to go. There is no more I can give right now. One hand is planted beneath Lilly’s butt as I hold her to me, her little body going slack in my arms as sleep takes her deeper. With my other hand I grip the handle of the barn door and pull it open fractionally. I breathe in the warm, rank air that slips out through the small crack, smelling straw and mildew. I pull the door open some more and peer inside, my eyes taking in what they can.
Nothing moves.
Nothing screams.
Nothing comes forth from the blackness within.
I carry Lilly inside and shut the door after me, standing still as my eyes adjust to the deep blackness. I am glad that she is asleep
Similar Books
