𝗧𝗼𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗿𝗼𝘄'𝘀 𝗟𝗮𝘀𝘁 𝗕𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗵 | an apocalyptic novel ©

Epilogue

They're all dead.

Everyone.

I have watched and witnessed everyone I knew leave.

My family, my friends, my love. Anything I cherished was taken from me until I was left alone with nothing but memories to cling to.

Now I'm here, by myself.

It has been four years and thirty days.

Thirty days since she passed - thirty days since my finger pulled the trigger. In my ears, I still hear the empty shells of the bullets fall to the concrete floor, still see her eyes widen with shock for the slightest second, and still feel my heart racing.

I still see my father's face, still hear the pull of his trigger, and I still see my mother bleeding out.

I still see Jason's body bag being zipped up, I still remember the two people's hands interlocked.

It isn't my fault, it never was. That is what she said to me.

My mind is not at ease. In my dreams, I still see her, still see her green eyes with the brown speckles in them. In my dreams, I still hold her hand, the feeling as vivid as it was, I still feel her lips on mine, the feeling as lightweight as a cloud. And when I close my eyes, her image is still lingering there, reaching out to me. I could almost hear her laugh, I could almost smell her.

But when I open my eyes again and take a breath, all these sensations are just a fleeting memory of what we had, it slowly disintegrates in the wind until all I have left of her is a vast thought. Until what I see is replaced by the haunting truth, the haunting world I am now stuck in - alone, like it was all those years before she made an appearance in my life. Until all I have is myself, sitting on a transmission tower in the middle of nowhere.

My feet sway in the empty air below. A few hundred feet - that is all that separates me from the ground. Faint thunder sounds in the background, dark clouds are crowding my vision.

I could sit here forever. My ears catch the faint aching of the metal bars in the wind, the noise almost sounds like her voice humming to me.

Everything reminds me of her. Too much reminds me of her - too much is separating me from her. The drop below me is daunting. I have been lonely for a long time. I am not ready to be, again. My eyes lock on the bandage of my hand, the gauze she had wrapped around my hand while holding it so dearly.

I scrunch my hand up and release it again. Nine fingers - one I have lost. The one I pinkie-promised to her with.

I can't promise her anything anymore. I can't promise anything to her anymore, except one thing. I'm done with waiting, done with waiting for better days.

Done with being alone. Alone without her. I can promise her one more thing. One thing that only a few hundred feet of empty air separates me from.

I put down my hands on the metal bar I'm sitting on, holding on to it tightly. Little raindrops fall on my skin. And for the first time, I don't care how much it burns on my skin. Tears bubble up behind my eyes and I let them fall while the rain keeps pouring. I don't know how much I've cried or if it was the rain when my cheeks were wet and burning.

I could sit here forever. And for once, I don't care. For once, I have nowhere to go. I look down to the drop. It almost calls to me, wants me to promise it.

My eyes sting. I won't be alone after this.

I won't be alone after this.

My voice cracks when the words form in the back of my throat and I force them out, one finger releasing after the other from the metal bar.

I won't be alone after this, I promise I walked out of that room, but I can't walk this earth all by myself.

"I promise."

And with one deep breath...

I let go of the railing, finally feeling at ease.