I returned to my house today. After the evacuation, after crazed rioters were reduced to shambling shadows of their former selves, after 98% of the towns population was either dead or worse, undead, after the refugee camp was compromised, after the doctors & nurses,policemen and soldiers had all gone and after all the screaming was replaced by the moans of the infected, the busy little town that had been my home since birth and where 8 generations of my family had lived was now nothing more than a ghost town. Main Street was reminiscent of news broadcasts i'd seen of Baghdad after the first gulf war, upturned burnt out cars, broken windows, blood stains on the sidewalk, on the walls, on the road, streaking across door ways, rotting bodies of those who were lucky enough to perish during the riots and whose bodies had succumb to the Indian summer, the stench hung in the air and even the scarf wrapped around my face could not prevent it invading my senses.
I returned to my house today. You'd like my house, it sits on the top of a hill with three others. It has 2 floors, whitewashed walls, french windows and a garden. In the garden there is a tree. My Great Grandfather planted it nearly 100 years ago. At least thats what my father told me. It's an oak tree. My father said that in Celtic Mythology it is considered the tree of doors, believed to be a gateway between worlds, or a place where portals could be erected. Because of this, in the shade of the oak tree my great grandparents, grandparents and mother were all laid to rest.
My father was my best friend, the bringer of treats and the greatest of story tellers, he taught me things about life that no school teacher could ever begin to explain, he held my hand when i needed it and he let it go when i was ready to go it alone. He gave me a passion for music, for adventure for life. He taught me the importance of forgiveness, the necessity of love and that i had nothing to fear except fear itself. He loved my mother with every ounce of his being from the day they met to the day he died and i'd wager that wherever his soul is now, he's still loving her, but one thing is missing.
I returned to my house today, Might seem like a really stupid thing to do at a time like this, but i have something very important to do and if i lose my life before sunset i will do so knowing i completed my mission. When my father and I were evacuated, it seemed like the world was ending, there was such chaos, such panic. My father, ever the pillar of strength kept telling me, "Don't worry, everything will be fine, you'll see"... We stayed at the refugee camp, pretty safe and secure until, well, until it wasn't safe and secure no more. 4 others we met there from another town, they had big rangerover style car, i don't know much about cars, all i can tell you is it was big and sturdy looking.
When the perimeter was compromised all hell broke loose and we clambered into their big car and managed to get away but not before 2 of them and my father were attacked and bitten. Shirley, 1 of the 4, drove like the wind and didn't stop for over an hour. We found shelter and decided to rest up and of course deal with the situation we now found ourselves in. My father asked me to sit with him a while after i'd seen to the wound on his back. He told me he was ready to go to sleep, he told me what a wonderful life he had lived and how proud he was of me. He told me that he missed my mother very much and that he wanted to be reunited with her. He told me that he knew I didn't have it in me to end his life and for that reason he wanted me to walk away. He asked me not to cry and not to worry and he promised me 2 things. 1st that he would watch over me every day until my time on earth was through. Then, he promised me that when death came for me, he and my mother would be waiting to greet me. He hugged me sooo tight and i held on to him wishing i could stay in that moment for ever. He whispered in my ear, "I love you" and i replied in kind. He let me go and i walked away. Jim, Shirley's husband took care of all three of them that night while Shirley held my hand and prayed.
I returned to my house today, Jim and Shirley drove me there in their big car. They came to the foot of the oak tree with me, where my great grandparents, grandparents, my mother and now my father lay sleeping.