The Fall

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I didn't ask for this.
I wondered the streets for weeks on end looking for anything. A person, a hope, an explanation. My hope fell supine and cadaverous. Only the malodorous off florid death and chaos replaced the last silver lining I had to any hope of the world.
My world.
Our world.
I suppose I’m a bit ahead of myself, aren’t I? Mother used to say that when I was little I would talk until I fell asleep talking. My name is Nevaeh, I’m 17. I've been out here three years... three God damn years. I guess you get used to it, though. I still haven't quite adjusted.
After a few weeks of utter discomfiture, and inexplicable predicaments I would have given up. To be completely honest, I don’t know where I am, or why I didn't give up when I wanted too.
That was almost a year ago today, and since then I haven’t gone much of anywhere. Still in the same sinking ship that I was in before, drowning slowly, with no life boats no anything.
I was in a town I used to live in when I was younger the other day, It almost sickening to me how much can change after a year.
The old bakery I used to visit almost every day, just a half a block from my street was in shambles. The wall in the front that used to sport the jolly painting of a brawny man with a revered smile and rosy cheeks was now twisted into a morbid emblem of what was to once again revive the feeling of aguish I constantly dealt with.
I am surprised I even recognized it. It used to be a blooming city, a small one at that, but it was better than most. I knew everyone and everyone knew me.
I remember one fall morning, the air was crisp and there was a slight sent of cherry blossoms flowing through the cool breeze.
My curly brown hair was flowing out my face, which was a relief to me, considering it usually fell into my eyes.
My mother had always tried to make me cut it, but I refused, my hair would stay to my lower back for as long as I had any say in it. I guess now it’s more of a hassle then a beauty.
I walked in and I was greeted by the manager, a good friend of ours whilst the cold still stung my already rosy cheeks. I don’t remember what he said to me; probably something insignificant, little that I never would have dreamed to matter to me.
I would give anything to remember that.
I have little left now, a note book, a locket, and a compass.
A few medical items, maybe a few cans of food, and half a bottle of water. I still have my mother bible that gives me hope. A little bit of it. Things just keep going downhill.
I glanced up; a sudden fear striking my cerulean-sapphire eyes, the rain was coming. The cool rain drops that used to patter my glasses that I used to run around in, sitting, just enjoys the sound, I had developed an unfathomable hatred for.
Rain meant water, water meant flood and floods meant the one thing I despised the most; supplies being pushed farther away. Not only that. Every time it rained the world would move and form to something that was completely alien to me. Any traces, any signs of land marks, markers, any sort of hope were gone within a day. Maps have been long since forgotten, better wall paper than anything, the world has changed so much. And I am absolutely terrified.
Company is a fading dream of mine, weariness constantly in my mind, eating away at my sanity. I’m surprise I haven’t gone insane already. The stillness, the silence I used to cherish was now… one of my worst enemies. I was broken from my train of thought by a rock, tumbling me to the ground. Damn.
I need to be more careful. Medical supplies are not common, but then again what really is? I glance around; scanning the area thoroughly. I need shelter, fast.
I remember once, when I was much younger maybe seven, I was mischievous one I was, probably more then I should have been but regardless I was .
I would hide out in little nooks and crannies all around the home that had become a distant thought to me. I remember my room well. It had pink walls with probably the worst flowers you would have ever seen; I was the one who painted them.
My mum said no more painting for a while, till I was at least sixteen, but I never did reach sixteen in time.
An exhausted twin sized bed with one post broken, long since a suppressed memory of any of ours, lay stagnant in our basement.
I think I had a set of drawers; they kept my clothes and little trinkets I collected as a ‘secret’. I remember I used to sneak into my parents room, and over to my mum’s drawers. I would always have to stand on my toes, or snag a stool from their bathroom, but I somehow reached the top.
I would always take her favorite perfume and run fleetly back to my room. I would spray and spray to my heart’s content and collapse on my bed in a fit of reticent giggles.
I missed that sent more then anything, considering it always reminded me of her.
I sniffed softly and pulled my fatigued, meager coat closer to the delicate frame of my body. I needed to get these ideas out of my head and think in the now. I was by myself, and I had to realize that was how it would stay.
I just couldn’t seem to do it.
I glanced up quickly, frantically surveying. The intention of locating shelter had lapsed from my brain for a moment too long. A building. I ran quickly, probably faster than I would have liked to, my body just wasn't used to not having energy any more, though I don’t know how.
I ran my hand down it rough graffitited walls, peaking behind each wall before darting to the next. It was worn down, old and smelled somewhat of mildew and mold.
Probably an old factory of some sorts. I determined it was clear, but I kept on my toes, you never would know with