After the government shuts down, businesses close, grocery stores looted, the laws erased, nobody is safe.
Now everyone shares the common goal. To survive.
Run, or be outran.
↳ highest ;
#1 in thepurge
Then again, how could anyone sleep in this situation?
I didn't know what the time was, but I knew it was close to nighttime. I could hear the cicadas' loud chirping, like I hadn't ever left home. This could be my home now.
They always made me want to cut my ears off. Luckily, it's almost winter — they should be hibernating soon.
So, I sat here, thinking about anything in the world. With the time I have now, I could think of anything and everything.
I think about Josh. I wondered if he was really gone, if he really died. Hell, maybe I wish he did so he wouldn't have to experience the horror America had become.
He seemed like one of the most innocent people, he didn't even know how to use the crowbar to hit anyone — just guessed.
Maybe if I didn't come over to his place, they would've found me first at my own — then they wouldn't have had to go to Josh's'.
Then I think about my parents. God, my parents are the best. Were?
I don't know how they're doing, and I wished I had something to grasp onto, any information at all. I wish I had called them more often, but now that all of this is happening, I don't know if I could ever do that again.
The first thing I do when I get a hold of a cellphone, I will dial them— I promised myself.
The thoughts that race into my head are both things that I want to cry about, but also things that motivate me to get out of here.
It gives me hope that the world is sane. Boy, am I wrong.
My eyes snap up at the sound of a doorknob twisting. I looked up, finding the silhouette of a person walking inside.
I internally prayed, hoping that it wasn't Hernan. I couldn't go through another night with him and the hands he can't keep to himself.
"Sleep well?" The familiar voice asked.
I scoffed at his question. "As if". The figure walked closer towards me as I realized it was the same guy that got pummeled by Hernan before.
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"I'm Van," he said plainly.
"No shit," I replied in the same tone. "Now, can you leave?"
"No can do, babygirl," he chuckled at the nickname. "I like it, the name, babygirl."
"Well I don't." He walked over to me, crouching down to get eye-level since my bottom was planted on the ground. His left eye looked bruised and beaten, probably from the punch Hernan gave him, or from the Noah guy.
