Flame ➸ John Murphy

30

Weeks passed. Each day seemed longer then the next. West was finding it hard to tell when it was night and day. Her days consisted of reading, sleeping and barely eating. She wouldn't tell him, but she would give John pieces of her rations each day.

The girl sat in the kitchen at the counter. A few small crackers sat in front of her as she slowly ate them. Her eyes stared at the painting in front of her. The same one she stared at everyday. She could remember every detail of the piece. Every stroke. Every color. All of it.

West hadn't spoken to John in days. She hadn't done practically anything in days. Once in a while she watched John play pool, but she never talked. John never spoke to her. There was nothing to say.

The girl lay on the couch staring at the black television screen. She had been on the couch the whole day. In the background she could hear the faint sound of the pool balls clanking together.

Her eyes were dull and her hair a mess. She felt as though she were trapped inside her body and not just the bunker. West wanted to leave. Needed to.

"Are you okay?"

The girl hadn't noticed that John had stopped playing his game and was now staring at her. West felt a cold wet feeling on her face, but she made no attempt to wipe her tears.

"West?" John spoke again when the girl didn't answer.

"Do I look okay John?" She spat like the words were venom. "Does any of this seem okay to you?"

John stepped back at the girls words. She sat up as her glare continued to burn into him.

"I was just trying to help." He stated as he put his hands in the air.

"If you want to help then get us out of here." West spat, her voice raising.

"We've both tried everything." John frowned.

"Obviously we haven't tried hard enough."

Jumping from her seat on the couch, West ran towards the pool table. Grabbing one of the cue sticks, she hurried up the stairs. Shocked, John stared as she left him standing in the room. At the top of the steps West shoved the stick in the crack in the doors. Her anger grew as nothing happen. Pulling it out, she began hitting the door with his. As it broke in half she screamed in anger.

Throwing the second half of the stick to the ground, she ran back down the stairs. John stood at the bottom blocking her way. Pushing his shoulder, she tried to get him to move.

"Calm down West." He spoke, he voice sounding mildly irritated.

"Don't tell me to calm down!" She screamed at him.

Her hands shot out with a force strong enough to send him to the ground. West hurried towards a large metal vase. The same one John had tried to open the door with the first night. As she hurried back up the stairs John was just then standing back up. Running behind her, he found West with the vase above her head. Swinging it down on the door, West let out a scream of anger.

The vase dented, but the door stood strong. Tears poured from the girls eyes as she continued to hit on the door. Each hit seemed to break her even more.

"West you're going to hurt yourself." John said as he tried to grab the vase from her.

"I don't care!" She yelled as she pulled the vase away. "I can't be trapped again!"

The manic girl sobbed as she threw the vase down the stairs. Pushing her body against the door she pounded her fists on the cold metal.

"I need out!" She cried.