Status: Complete 12/2/13. Thank you for reading. Feedback anyone?
When the World Was Ours
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It was Lennon who saved our lives.
After three days, all of the electricity went out and still no one had returned.
It was like they never even existed.
At night it would get so dark. A dark that only the dead should be allowed to see. I would hold onto Jonah’s hands as we made camp in my room, still too afraid to explore outside of our house.
“I’m here” I would whisper every few minutes just to assure him that I hadn’t disappeared as well.
“I’m here.” He’d repeat.
We waited for someone to come and find us. We waited to be saved, just like the television used to remind us to do. We didn’t leave. We found God while we waited. We lost God again after no one came.
We were supposed to die in that house. I remember waking up thinking ‘any day now.’ Any day we would disappear and we’d see our parents and all of our neighbors and friends again. It didn’t make sense. People aren’t supposed to just vanish into midair.
Over thirty days had passed when he broke our window. It could have been longer but I stopped counting after thirty. It was what woke me up. I thought I was dreaming when I heard the sound of his boots creeping through my house. It wasn’t unusual to have vivid dreams of my dad walking through the door and spreading his arms wide open for me to come jump in. Then he’d say “Didn't I tell you, Bug? Didn’t I?” I always woke up crying after those dreams.
I left Jonah asleep next to me and got up and walked toward the sound of the crash. I saw him before he saw me and I swear I could’ve cried. For so long I waited for proof that we weren't alone on this earth and there he was standing with his back toward me in dirty clothes with a .22 rifle hanging off of his shoulder.
He was rummaging through our pantry and stuffing all of our canned foods into his bag. I still couldn't believe he was real and when I went to touch him he spun around and pointed the muzzle of his gun to the center of my forehead.
I actually did cry then. His eyes were wide and he lowered his gun and let me walk closer and touch his face. I couldn’t control my tears. I didn’t want to. I touched him and he was solid and he was real. I ran my finger across his face and his hair and his ears waiting for him to disappear. Waiting to wake up.
“Are you real?”
At first I thought it had come from my mouth but it was from him.
I nodded and he nodded back before wrapping his arms around me squeezing.
I never thought in my life I would be so happy to have a complete stranger in my house wrapping his arms around me but I was. I was so happy, I couldn't contain myself. I had never cried so hard ever in my life.
After three days, all of the electricity went out and still no one had returned.
It was like they never even existed.
At night it would get so dark. A dark that only the dead should be allowed to see. I would hold onto Jonah’s hands as we made camp in my room, still too afraid to explore outside of our house.
“I’m here” I would whisper every few minutes just to assure him that I hadn’t disappeared as well.
“I’m here.” He’d repeat.
We waited for someone to come and find us. We waited to be saved, just like the television used to remind us to do. We didn’t leave. We found God while we waited. We lost God again after no one came.
We were supposed to die in that house. I remember waking up thinking ‘any day now.’ Any day we would disappear and we’d see our parents and all of our neighbors and friends again. It didn’t make sense. People aren’t supposed to just vanish into midair.
Over thirty days had passed when he broke our window. It could have been longer but I stopped counting after thirty. It was what woke me up. I thought I was dreaming when I heard the sound of his boots creeping through my house. It wasn’t unusual to have vivid dreams of my dad walking through the door and spreading his arms wide open for me to come jump in. Then he’d say “Didn't I tell you, Bug? Didn’t I?” I always woke up crying after those dreams.
I left Jonah asleep next to me and got up and walked toward the sound of the crash. I saw him before he saw me and I swear I could’ve cried. For so long I waited for proof that we weren't alone on this earth and there he was standing with his back toward me in dirty clothes with a .22 rifle hanging off of his shoulder.
He was rummaging through our pantry and stuffing all of our canned foods into his bag. I still couldn't believe he was real and when I went to touch him he spun around and pointed the muzzle of his gun to the center of my forehead.
I actually did cry then. His eyes were wide and he lowered his gun and let me walk closer and touch his face. I couldn’t control my tears. I didn’t want to. I touched him and he was solid and he was real. I ran my finger across his face and his hair and his ears waiting for him to disappear. Waiting to wake up.
“Are you real?”
At first I thought it had come from my mouth but it was from him.
I nodded and he nodded back before wrapping his arms around me squeezing.
I never thought in my life I would be so happy to have a complete stranger in my house wrapping his arms around me but I was. I was so happy, I couldn't contain myself. I had never cried so hard ever in my life.