Every night i wonder whether i could have done anything different, could i have bought her some more time, saved just one more person, saved my wife. I don't cry, not any more its pathetic and my sobs are too noisey, attract too much attention.

I can't remember her face, the day the safe house...thats a joke, safe house, a few nailed on planks, bits of piled furniture and prayers holding out the decaying mass.
I can't remember her face, her screams and pleading are ingrained in my memory but not her face, funny that. The house was surrounded for 4 days by the sound of moaning, four days of a wall of death, four fucking days of the constant bang, bang, bang on the walls and doors. I thought we could stay in the house for ever, this was a sick illussion to satisfie my fear but the truth was we had no more food or water and we were going to die one way or another.
When they got in it happened so quickly, the crack of a window or door frame echoed through the house I froze. like a rabbit in the headlights of a car.
I were upstairs at the time which bought me a few seconds grace before the sound of my heart pounding was met by by the dragging footsteps on the stairs.
I rember climbing into the loft, the ladder seeming longer than before then clambering through the little window onto the roof. thets when it dawned on me, my wife.
I hadn't spared her a thought as i made my escape, she was upstairs, im sure. i wanted to turn back, go in and fight my way through and bring her out but i couldn't move. my legs were like lead and however much i wanted to move my body wouldn't. vomit filled my mouth and the ache of guilt washed over me, dampening my trousers in the process.
The moans had become a constant vibration felt as much as heard. The scream cut this, my name carried through the air followed by crys of "help" and "stop", useless against something that has no compassion, no understanding of anything but to destroy.
The Garden was clear of trouble so i shimmyed down the drain pipe shaking all the way and started running as my feet hit the ground. Her screaming chased me down and i paused, turning back to see my wife and mass of arms, legs and bodies spilling from the upstairs window to the ground below. I continued running and kept going untill my lungs burned and my legs were jelly, dangerous i know now but i didn't care I just had to get as far from the house as possible. Leave my guilt behind...

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Tags: fear, guilt, wife

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Comment by Kelli on January 29, 2010 at 11:06pm
Beautiful.
Comment by ♪♫ Dawn ♫♪ on September 21, 2009 at 6:59pm
Most definitely a great read! I hope to read more soon!
Comment by Oberoth on July 29, 2009 at 7:44am
Guilty.
A Good read ^^/
Comment by Liam on July 29, 2009 at 7:32am
This is my first attempt, be gentle.

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