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destroyed all I loved

“Maybe you are lost, I don’t recognize you. This place is dangerous, for a little bird! You need to move on,” Sasha stood by the Great Oak tree, watching it chirp and scream, “I don’t think I look like him at all. You don’t need to be afraid.”

It’s beak unhinged, and a mix of what appeared to be two voices was the only response she was given “LOCKED me I can see Through YOUR screen.”

“Maybe we have a bad connection, I’m sorry about that. Do you know who you are?” She said in a quieter tone, pacing back and forth.

“I’m not like the rest of them. I am very aware. You deserve to rot. Rot like they did.”

JANUARY 2024

Blair Moore

I sat outside of the treatment center on a small chair, rocking back and forth. I wasn’t allowed inside at all, not even in the waiting room. Cole only told me he’s still alive at the moment. My hands were still dirty, I hadn’t gotten a chance to wash them, or didn’t want to leave. The only thing I found besides a blocked off mess was the journal on the couch, tucked underneath it. I didn’t want to read it, it wasn’t the right thing to do. He told me not to unless shit went down, which in fairness it did, but he was still kicking for now.

I don’t know why nobody else was with him at the time of the stabbing. I don’t know why he wandered off from the bunker at all. I don’t know why his shoulder of all things is the most mangled. I wish I did.

After things stopped for a while, I thought it was getting better. Happier. There was nothing I could’ve done in the end, I guess. Which doesn’t make me feel much better. It was just a couple hours ago when he was asleep on a couch, perfectly fine. I knew there was someone else waiting, too. Had I been armed beyond a pocket knife, I would’ve carved her face off by now. As a kid, I was always told hate was a very strong word, that nobody ever meant it. I despise her. I despise what she did. I hate her.

As I look up at the ceiling, I pull out a small photograph. This one wasn’t an old picture I found in a bag or drawer, this was one I took just two days ago. The color was still fading in. I took it with the only working camera we had at the time, or at least allowed to use. It was a picture of the sky. There are millions of pictures of the sky out there, but this one was special, this one was different. I put it back into my pocket as carefully as I can.

I think it’s stupid to think that someone you knew for three months brings this much guilt. I’ve known people for years, it wasn’t like this. Time is slow, I guess.

Time is slow.

“JEFFERY’S JOURNAL” ENTRY

Sometimes I don’t know what to do with myself. I want to be helpful. I’ve always tried to be helpful. I couldn’t save Cole from the gas mask, I couldn’t save the man in the office block, I couldn’t save the girl who tried to climb the elevators. I couldn’t save anyone I’ve met. Not now. Not in the past.

I feel as if I am clinging onto something fucked up, a hope that will crush me further following it than giving up. But I still try.

Sometimes there’s things I wish I asked. Like why Jeffery and Cole had the same last names despite not being related, for example. If I asked that to Cole now, he’d get mad and go on some ramble about leaving things to rest.

Cole Miller and Jeffery Miller are the most basic names ever. I don’t know who would willingly have that last name, probably had something like ‘gaylord’ beforehand. Soot used to joke about them being married for the reason why they have such a shitty last name. I’m starting not to doubt it.

It’s getting late.

I don’t like to write in other peoples stuff, just to be clear, but he said I could write in this sometime if anything happened. I’m no good at writing, you know? I think I might start foaming at the mouth if I try and write anything longer than this.

MY WORDS WILL TEAR THROUGH THE AIR