Forsaken Dreams

The next day my eyes burn from lack of sleep. I trace the sun as it creeps across the dirt, paying attention to nothing else but the light slipping slowly away from me. I search in my backpack for food and a jug of water but I don't bother with either. A small part of me craves to rebel, to break free and kill every zombie. To run and grieve. But I am too exhausted, my body unwilling to move.

Here I'm cold, hungry,and alone. Now, I can spend the between time remembering. I lie on the dirt with my eyes closed and body limp, trying to feel my mother's hands in my hair as I repeat the stories she used to tell me over and over again in my mind. My father's booming voice but soft when he tells me he loves me. JJ's eyes, and how they would meld within the iris, splashes of colour so beautiful. His hands gently holding me as if I were fragile and would break any moment. The way he would think and analyze what he would say before he said it. I refuse to forget any details and I am terrified that I already have. I go over each story again—seemingly impossible stories about within the sky and upon space that soared into the heavens and men who touched the moon. I want them to be ingrained in my head, to become a part of me that I cannot lose as I have lost my parents. As I have lost JJ.

Tears slip out from my eyes, my fingers slipping through my hair; dirty. I get up, close the latch on my bag, pull it on and leave feeling weak and lonely. As I walk I wonder if I will ever feel whole again. I feel as if everything that I ever was is draining out of my body and leaving me. Is this who I want to be now? Empty, hollow, and alone? Whoever I am, I have to accept it now. There's no going back. Ever.

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It is late afternoon by the time I find my destination. A place; my home for the time being. There's still so many Undead in this part of town but not as much. I made sure I kept safe running atop each building and house. Doing so only makes me feel like a monkey, or even a cat. If only I were an animal. I wonder about my mother and father. Is their life any easier now? Is there fear in the Returned? Is there loss and love and pain and longing? Wouldn't a life without so much agony be easier?
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Three days pass and I am desperate. I made a goal and yet I stay hidden, only going out for firewood. Why haven't I gone searching for the ones I love? Is love not enough? Was it ever? Is it because I am afraid? Afraid of those who used to be actual living beings; human beings. Afraid to become one of them. Afraid of pain. Is that it? I can't live in a world of with only fear as a emotion.

Will I ever see space? Is that the reason I always feel trapped here. But instead I feel tears on my cheeks and I hear the moaning of the Returned. The moaning that never stops. I scamper and hide in my little enclosed fenced home. My body shakes and I cannot control my jerking muscles. The Undead claw desperately at the fence all around me. They can smell me here. I on the other hand, is miserable.

There is no moon that night and I watch as stars fill the dark emptiness. Clouds creep in heavy and low so that there is nothing more to see outside. I want to sleep, I want dreams to pull me from this world and make me forget. To stop the memories from swirling around me. To put an end to this ache that consumes me. A cricket chirrups somewhere. I wrap a thin blanket from my pack around my shoulders and over my head and pull my knees up to my chest and silently heave for...everyone I ever missed.

The sun beamed down on my face, waking me. It seemed poignant that the sun was out in all its glory on the day I tend to search for my loved ones. Humming to myself, I try to gather my belongings together. As well as my confidence, the only thing I lacked. Thinking about everything unsettled me. I swaalowed a lump in my throat and moved, climbing the fence to get on top of the once coffee shop. Leaves and branches scratching me in the process. I reace the top. The top is where I am most free. Most distant from everything. Where I can run from and to each building with wind in my hair, tears streaking my face, running with purpose. As a child, I dreamed of love, sunlight, and life beyond the town I grew up in. I guess dreams still stay the same.

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By night, I reach the edge of town. It's time to leave this place, leave and not care to look back here ever again. This place that had caused me such sorrow, such pain is now out of my life. Gone like it never existed. I hesitate in front of the ruined sign that welcomed people and newcomers. There is still time for me to turn back. To clean up the broken town, to put out the forgotten fire and return to my hideout, pretending that this day has been nothing more than a dream. Instead, I take a deep breath and force myself to step forward.