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  • ramblingreader3

In the beginning


The beginning was empty, everything was empty. The grocery store was full of empty people and empty shelves. The flu crossed boarders, races and mountains and left nothing behind. It has been months since I've seen someone other than my sisters. We seem to be immune and we seem to be the only ones. We won't die of starvation or dehydration. We have access to free health care since a hospital full of medicine sits full of empties. Everyones houses were stocked during the warning of the shut downs. Many of the grocery stores shelves are scarce but the houses are full. Costco still has things on it's tall shelves.

We even still have power. The hardest part has been removing the empties. We don't know what to do with them. We were pulling them from places and burning the bodies but it takes a lot of time. My sister says we should wait till the bodies dry up, I can't disagree. Moving them would be easier if they weighed less. But I can hear them. I know it sounds strange, maybe I'm going crazy. The voices are low like the whispers of butterfly wings, but I can feel and hear them speaking till the bodies are ash. They never scream or yell. They tell me the flu was bad, they couldn't move a muscle as they died and yet it didn't hurt. They ask me about their loved ones because they can't find them. My hope is when they're turned to ash they pass on and find their loved ones. I can't hear them after the ash is there, the smouldering left overs remain silent.

My sisters have been understanding, they found a house in the woods that seems far enough away that I can't hear them. In the city it sounds like wind passing over my ears constantly. I can't decipher between the whispers, they blend together to sound like wind.

I've been reading zombie apocalypse books. My sister came back with a bunch a couple weeks ago. I must admit I wish that's what happened. This emptiness is all consuming. My youngest sister is losing hope. She seems lost in her books lately, the only thing to give us any sense of peace is being lost in a world that isn't our own. I make her a hot chocolate every day to give her some sort of normalcy. Our mom use to do that on cold days, we would get home from school and she would make us hot chocolate and chat with us about our day. My sister and I talk about the books we're reading, sometimes we trade. My other sister leaves every morning and doesn't come home until sun down. I think she wonders through the forest, something her and mom use to do together. We were all close to her, we were all terrified to not have her and now we don't know if she's even alive. We looked for the first couple months. We knew she was going to the grocery store. She didn't want us to go, she was trying to protect us from the virus. She didn't come home. We haven't even found our car.

Dad came home sick. He locked himself in the bedroom and that was the last time we saw him. We left our home a week later with a note on the fridge telling mom we went to the woods to find a place to be. I think my sister goes home a lot to check and make sure she hasn't come, I can see the sadness in her eyes every once in awhile, I think those are the days she has gone into town to check.

What I think about most is how much my mom would have loved this. Us reading. Spending days on the couch lost in our books. She would have cuddled up next to us and been so happy. It was her favourite thing to do, read. She loved apocalypse books, probably why my sister brought some to me. I was thankful to have another connection but sad that I can't share it with her. I regret all the time I spent away from them. Always on my video games and watching my phone. We had a great relationship but I wish I talked to her more, I think my sisters feel the same. All that time lost and we will never get it back and we're still so young. I just turned seventeen. My sisters are fifteen and fourteen.

I never thought I would be grateful our mother made us do so many chores. They've all come in handy. She even showed us some basic cooking and baking. It didn't take much for us to be able to follow some recipes. I still don't like much but I force myself to eat it. I have to stay healthy for my sisters now. The internet went down awhile ago and there isn't anything on the television since everything was connected to the internet. We found a DVD player a month ago and figured it out so we could watch movies but it's not the same as before. It's a reminder that things are so different and that people we love are gone.

I don't know why I picked up this journal, I guess I remembered something my mother said years ago when I asked her why she kept a journal. She said it helped her work out emotions in her mind. She would write about her failures, disappointments, when she was angry and it helped her to highlight problems with herself and develop more empathy for those around her. I'm hoping it does the same for me because I am so sad. I miss her so much it feels like a rip in my heart. Is it selfish to hope she's alive somewhere? My sister says if she's alive is isn't anywhere good cause she would have killed to be with us. I can't help but hope she's still alive and fighting to be here...

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