Life Has Died, And Yet We're Still Alive

“Under the table!” he commands, standing up from the chair just as the earthquake hits and the entire house begins to shake violently around us. I try not to scream in fear as the floor beneath our feet quivers, the table sliding onto its side and bits of dust from the ceiling.

“Cmon!” he yells over the loud booming, grabbing my hand and pulling me away from the kitchen, away from the crumbling ceiling. Just as we make it out of the room, the lights give way below the roof and the ceiling behind us starts to collapse.

“The bedroom! It has the strongest reinforcements!” I shout, my voice wavering in fear as I remember the contractor telling us that the original builder started with the bedroom and put the greatest effort into its construction. The floor below us feels like jello, our running almost useless as we hurry as fast as we can towards the door of our room. I hear glass shattering and ground breaking, lights going out and everything falling apart at our heels. Bryan pulls me into the room and grabs the edge of the mattress, tearing it from the bed frame and wrapping his arms around my body. He pulls me underneath the mattress where we’ll be safe from any flying debris and holds me close as the world shakes still violently.

Finally, it stops. All of it simply stops. The shaking and booming from every direction; it all stops. And everything is deathly quiet, save for our deep and rigid breathing.

“Y-You okay?” he breathes, relaxing against my body in his nervousness. I nod slowly, reaching up with my good arm to cup the side of his face.

“I’m f-fine, are you okay?” I ask quietly, trying to catch my breath and calm my pounding heart. He nods slowly, resting his head in the crook of my neck. I close my eyes, burying my face in his hair and swallowing thickly. “Br-Bryan…I have to ask you something.”

“What is it?” he whispers, pulling back to look at me.

“Does this r-really seem like just a storm to you?” I mumble, gulping quietly. His eyes stare into mine, his mind contemplating his answer.

“N-No, Lynnie…it seems like much, much more than just a storm.”

“A storm wouldn’t stretch from the west coast of the US to eastern India, right?”

“What’re you saying…?” he asks quietly, his hand reaching up to tenderly stroke my hair as a means of comfort for us both.

“What if…” I start, then quickly shake my head. “Nevermind.”

“What if this is the end…” he murmurs, knowing all too well what I’m thinking. I nod slowly, fear pitting deeper into the bottom of my stomach. “Lynnie…”

“Do you smell that?” I ask, pushing the mattress up to give us more room to breathe and sniffing in as much of the air as possible. He sighs softly and crawls out from under the mattress, pushing it back onto the bed frame and wrapping his fingers around my wrist to slowly pull me to my feet.

“It smells like smoke,” he says, moving over to the door of our room. Large chunks of ceiling have fallen around the room, some landing on the mattress that protected us from the impact; however, looking out into what used to be our home, I see that going into the bedroom most definitely saved our lives. All beyond the hallway is in shambles, the only walls still standing being the four that form the main perimeter of the house. The wind has gone silent, the air eerily calm and nothing left but the sudden sound of crackling wood and the smell of an accompanying fire. The thick walls the original builder constructed, aside from the bedroom, were the strongest and therefore still stood. However, this also meant that the fire we both knew was burning somewhere in the building would be feeding the smoke directly to us.

“Can you see anything?” I ask him, coming up to stand behind him. The dust left floating in the air in the wake of the disaster seems to refuse to settle, making everything incredibly hard to see.

“It doesn’t matter, honey…there’s a fire in here somewhere,” he mumbles, reaching back and yanking the door forward. Though it’s misshapen, he pushes it with all his strength into the frame and slams it shut, sighing and resting his forehead against it. “We have to keep the smoke from getting into the room.”

“Here, a blanket,” I hand our comforter to him, having to tug it out from under a few ceiling chunks. He stuffs it under the door, then takes the sheet I hand to him and tucks it into the open edges along the sides of the door. He turns to me and I sigh shakily, my arm dangling uselessly at my side. I haven’t hardly been able to feel it since the earthquake began. I reach forward, slowly taking his hand and lacing our fingers together as tears of fear come to my eyes.

What if this really is the end?

He bites his lip, pulling me into his arms and letting me bury my face in his chest. Air as cold as ice slips into the room through the shattered window beside our bed, causing me to shiver and goosebumps to form all over my skin.

“It’s gonna be alright, Lynnie. I promise you that,” he assures me quietly, slowly lowering us to the floor and pulling me close into his side. I hear pieces of porcelain or glass snapping and shattering with the heat of the fire growing somewhere in the house, gulping quietly.

How can he be so sure?

“You know what always makes me laugh?”

“Wh-What’s that?” I ask, some part of my mind incredibly eager to have a distraction.

“Thinking about…on our wedding day, when KitKat and Ronnie went running through the reception hall in their dress and tux,” he says, laughing a little and leaning back against the bed frame. I grin a little at the memory.

“We have crazy best friends, don’t we, Bry? Not to mention the fact that those two didn’t even wait until high school was over to get married,” I laugh, remembering that the moment Kit’s parents said yes and signed the documents in senior year, the couple sent out invitations to their family and best friends, and just like that, they were hitched.

“I didn’t want to wait to marry you,” he says, smiling. I look up at him in confusion, not quite understanding. “From the moment I saw you, the first day of junior year, I wanted to ask you to be mine forever.”

“And you’re telling me this now?” I joke around, managing a small smirk. He laughs and presses a sweet kiss to my lips.

“I’ve always told you that and I always will. I want you to be my girl for several eternities, and then some.”

“I will be, Bryan. I’ve always been your girl, and I always, always will,” I promise him, no less than pure honesty showing in my eyes. He rests his forehead against mine, holding me close to his body.

“I love you so much, Lynn,” he murmurs, closing his eyes.

“I love you t-too, Bryan…” I whimper quietly. “More than anything.”

We sit there together, just staying close as what seems like hours, though is really only a small number of minutes, passes us by. A thin film of smoke begins to blanket the room, the sheet and blanket not enough to keep out the toxic fumes of the fire no doubt headed for us.

“Maybe we should run, maybe there’s a stronger building not too far from here,” Bryan mumbles, his thoughts consuming his eyes as they flit from side to side. I sigh shakily, holding myself closer to him and burying my face in his shoulder. Soft booms echo in the distance from places not too far off, and Bryan’s breathing gets just a little bit faster.

“I’m so scared, Bryan; I’m so, so scared,” I whimper against the dirtied fabric of his shirt. He tightens his arms around me, his lips pressing to the side of my head.

“I know, Lynnie. But everything’s going to be alright, I’ve got you,” he tells me, repeating his words to assure me of them, “I’ve got you.”

We hear a sound rumbling through the ground, my eyes widening with fear as it grows louder. Before we can say a word or realize that an aftershock is shaking the ground beneath us, the ceiling above our heads gives way to the large oak tree that’s always stood so tall outside our bedroom window. I hardly have time to scream before Bryan’s arms shove me away from him, the tree crashing to the floor in my place.

“Bryan!” I scream, terrified as I crawl helplessly to where the trunk landed, my knees scraping against the glass and debris littering the floor. I quickly drop to my stomach and call his name again to the other side of the tree, through a small space between the trunk and floor. Tears push past my eyelids and leak onto my cheeks as I choke out his name again, “Bryan, please answer me!”

“B-Baby, I’m h-here…it’s o-okay,” I hear him groan from the other side, a sob of relief echoing from my throat. “I j-just…w-went out f-for a second…”

“Are you hurt, are you okay?! Why do you sound like that?” I ask, trying to calm my crying.
“Th-The tree…it l-landed on my…l-leg,” he hisses in pain, my heart breaking at the sound.
“Okay, w-we have to get you to a hospital, wh-what can I do, maybe I c-can lift the tr-"

“Hey…! L-Lynn…Lynnie, baby, give m-me your hand…”

I look down and see him shakily pushing his hand through the space between the trunk and floor, blood painted over the side and palm of his hand. His leg is already bleeding that much?

I reach down and take his hand, closing my eyes tightly against my tears as he holds my hand tightly in his. “Th-There’s nothing…y-you can do…but st-stay here, w-with me.”

“I c-can do that, Bry…I can d-do that,” I promise him, holding tight onto his hand. My eyes travel down my arm, my stomach immediately churning at the sight. The bandage is no longer white, but now covered in a silky crimson red. I must’ve worsened the cut when we were running from the earthquake.

“W-We can’t r-run from this, L-Lynnie,” his voice whispers shakily from the other side. I bite my lip to hold back any crying, laying fully onto my side and scooting as close to the tree, and to my husband, that I can.

“I know, Bry…I know…” I whisper back, sniffling quietly as I stare down at our hands beneath the tree trunk. I slowly lace our fingers together, the realization that this is may very well be the last time we ever hold hands hitting me in one huge wave. With a fire eating away at our house, the smoke already pouring into the room and the heat becoming unbearable, and the injuries that chew away at us. “I l-love you, I love you so much…you’re my world, Bryan…”

“And y-you’re mine…” he tells me, his hand giving mine a squeeze. “Y-You know…if th-this is the end…we will st-still always be together…”

“For the same reason we…..r-recognized each other…all that t-time ago…” I mumble breathily, dizziness hitting me.

“Because… y-you, Lynn Danielle M-Monte, are my s-soulmate.”

“And you’re my soulmate, Bryan Al-lexander Monte…” I finish quietly, knowing that though our lives together here and now are quickly draining, that the force behind every breath is weakening, we will always be together. Because of the one thing I will always know for sure.

That was our same single word…soulmates.

~~~~The End…Almost.~~~~