the risks I’d foolishly take to defend them. Most of all, I wouldn’t again
have to face the stifling grief that would replace their company when they
were eventually lost.
Although I was alone, I wouldn’t let myself become lonely. It terrified me, to be honest, so I didn’t think about it. I was the only company
I really needed and on a journey where death confronted me nearly every
day, it was nice to know I could trust who I traveled with. We’d chat,
myself and I, about the same old things, occasionally reminiscing on the
past when we’d come across a scrap of humanity that was almost completely absorbed by the dense ash.
Sometimes though I’d go too far, and she’d be there, waiting for
me as she had always done. I longed to embrace her again, to feel her
presence in my arms and by my side. I’d give anything to trace her lines
again and to see my entire world in her shining, emerald eyes. I struggled
to ignore the ghosts of my past, her ghost specifically, knowing temptation would lead to my death as insanity grasped at me, entangling itself
with my old haunts. So I was alone, but not lonely. Never lonely.
Wandering aimlessly, more like drifting really, I stumbled through the
tangled net of low hanging branches and tripped myself in the thick ash.
I didn’t know how much longer I could keep this all up. I had
nothing without her. I had no reason to struggle through this life anymore. My mind clouded, I grew disoriented. I stumbled over something,
whether it was a stump, an old tire, or a body, I didn’t know but I fell to
the ground nonetheless.
I pounded the ash-blanketed earth with my fist in desperate
anger. It was my fault, really. She was my responsibility, she was my entire
existence, and I lost her. I hated myself for that and because I knew she
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still never stopped loving me despite my failure. Kneeling in the ash,
the weight of everything I felt was beginning to bear down on me. I was
completely alone and I missed her immensely. Yet, what could I do now?
I didn’t have an answer for myself but I knew that I couldn’t just sit there.
I had to do something.
Against the smothering haze of the past, I forced myself to stand
and continue walking. I was not focusing on my destination, but on the
fact that walking north, if that was even the direction I was still going,
was all I had left to do. Nothing but walking north, alone.
I stomped through the trees as they swayed in my wake, the wind
playing puppet master. I was tired. I hadn’t eaten in days and my supply
of fresh water was down to a few sips. Although I knew I couldn’t outrun
my past, I had to try. So I pushed on, trudging fiercely through the ash as
it grabbed at my boots, weighing me down and trying to shackle me to
the very thing I was fighting to escape.
Upon bursting through a small stand of tightly grown aspen, I
found myself in a field. The ash blew around wildly out in the open, but
as I scanned the clearing I noticed a small s