You and Me

I remember when it happened. I remember it was just an ordinary day. My mom told me. He didn't want to tell me himself. He was sick. Very sick. He had cancer. It was bad. We didn't talk about it. It was like if we said it out loud, it might make it worse. It almost seemed like that was what sparked it. Nathan got sick and then so did the rest of the world. That was bad too.

We lived in a pretty rural area. A small town. Not many people but enough to have a problem once the super flu spread. It went everywhere. Nathan got moved to the next town over. Their hospital was bigger and better equipped to keep him safe in case it got worse. I spent all of my free time there with him. I talked to him. Stupid things. Things I wanted to do in the future. What my mother was planning to cook for dinner. How a couple in school got caught under the bleachers, the most cliche place to be. He laughed when something was funny. He nodded sympathetically when something was going wrong. Those were the good times. Sometimes when I went to visit, he was asleep. Cancer patients tend to sleep a lot because they are constantly fighting. It would never be good sleep. No sweet dreams. It was horrible. He would gasp for breath every so often. His face would contort in pain. He would mumble nonsense. Sometimes, he would even wake up long enough to ask for more painkillers before drifting back to sleep. I sat. I held his hand. I watched him breathing, my heart skipping a beat if he took even a second too long to inhale. All I could think was you and me.

you and me

you and me

you and me

No one ever thought the super-flu would result in zombies. Who would ever have thought that was even possible? The cluster of small towns surrounding us put up road blocks and established mandatory curfews. We were in quarantine. People were getting sick. People were dying. That was when we had our last good day.

It was Valentines Day. Nathan was doing really well. He was awake and happy and in minimal pain. We celebrated. He convinced one of the nurses to have flowers delivered to his room for me. Pink flowers wrapped in cellophane and tied with a gray ribbon.Wee took pictures. We laughed. We kissed. He gave me a necklace. It was a vintage heart locket on a thin silver chain with our pictures inside. That day was the only good day i could think of at the time. So I told him about it. I told him about it on the day he died.

Our town was in complete chaos. People were protesting. People were committing suicide left and right. No one talked. People started carrying guns around with them everywhere they went. I was living in world of bullets and death. I knew I had to get to Nathan in the hospital. I had to be with him. I needed him so I could be hopeful again. I drove through a field to get around the roadblocks. No one seemed to care. I drove twelve miles to the next town. To the hospital. To find him. To see him. To save him. To save myself.

Everything was quiet. I took that as a bad sign. All the lights were out. It was cold. No heat. The elevators didn't work. I climbed the stairs to the second floor and walked to the end to the hallway. His room was empty. There was blood on the walls. I panicked. I ran from room to room. Floor to floor. Wing to wing. Screaming his name. I got to the top floor and heard a moan. I immediately pulled out my gun. I had stolen it from my father. I wasn't stupid enough to come here unarmed. I heard the moan again. Around the corner. Make a left. On the right. Open the door. And there he was. On a stretcher on the floor of a supply closet. They had left him. They had all left him to die. Alone. In the dark and cold and pain. Surrounded by the smell of disinfectant.

I saw the bite. I knew what it meant. I knew it was bad. I knew his time was running out.

I abandoned all caution and knelt down next to him. He was asleep. His chest heaved with the effort of breathing. His whole body shook with each gasp. His face contorted in pain. He mumbled nonsense. It was a bad time. I knelt there. I held his hand. I watched and listened to his wretched breathing, my heart skipping a beat if he took a second too long to inhale. I talked to him. Stupid things. How the chain from my locket broke. How I was going to get it fixed as soon as all this was over. How much I loved him. That he was going to live. That he was going to be ok. Lies. I knew it. He shook his head. He knew it too.That last Valentines Day. That last good day. That last scrap of wonderful.I sat. Holding his hand tightly in mine. Crying. Deep racking sobs. Rocking back and forth. Saying one thing over and over again.

you and me

you and me

you and me

And he stopped. Everything. No more breathing. No more moaning. No more pain. No more Nathan. And then he came back. His eyes were blank. His skin pale. His hand still gripping mine. I screamed. I kicked him back. I couldn't kill him. I couldn't let him stay like this. I couldn't let him kill me. I shot him. Three shots right in the head. All I had. He splattered on the wall behind him. Pink and gray. Just like the flowers.

I screamed. I cried. I ran. I scratched my arms. I bled. I tore my shirt. I pulled my hair. I wailed. I cursed. I remembered. I climbed. I stepped up. I felt the wind. I jumped. I flew. I fell. I whispered.

you and me

you and me

you and me

Until I was just a splatter on the pavement. Pink and grey. Just like the flowers.

(this is my first entry for the valentines day competition. it has nothing to do with my main blog, cured. enjoy)