AncilI froze as I stared down at my dad. “I got the key,” I said to my lifeless father. “That’s what you wanted right?” The bossy voice in my head went quiet. Anger rose up in my voice, “Are you happy now?! Now what?! Do I drive home?! Lay in my bed and cry?! What do I do now?! Tell me!! What do I do now!” I pounded the floor in anger and grief. “You took the easy way out and left me to face this all alone. You coward!” My mouth went out of control. My sadness and fear escalated to full on anger. I didn’t only lash out at my dad but everyone around me! “All of you!! You all took the easy way out! You cowards!!” I was loud. If there were any of those things around they would have surely heard me and be on their way to end me. But I didn’t care.
A few minutes later I spotted a small and independent grocery store, a few blocks ahead of me in the distance. It seemed wide open and free to access with no one to stop me. I needed food.
“I guess you’re going to tell me that my next mission is to get food, huh?” I said to my father.
My father said nothing and so did the construct of him in my head. But I knew what had to be done. He didn’t have to say anything. I turned around, and headed towards the store, not daring to look back.
I accidentally stepped over a few bodies in my trek to the store, telling them sorry as I did. I don’t think the dead care if you step on them but I could have sworn that I felt someone grab my leg. I jumped in shock as I felt a cold hand wrap around my leg and I almost shat my pants. But, after looking around, it seemed like all the bodies were all still and inanimate. It must have been in my head, I thought.
I tiptoed into the store, crunching pieces of glass below my feet from the shattered glass-door entrance. The metal shelves were still in place and orderly and fully stocked. The walls were made of rusty metal, scavenged from old shipping containers and ships. There was a lot of that for sale when the water levels fluctuated. Ships on the coast were washed up halfway through the country. And in a country depleted of its resources, scavengers took whatever they could get their hands on. And in this case, it was ship parts.
As though just a normal grocery day, I grabbed a basket and quickly filled it with food, snacks, toilet paper, and anything else I needed. I then made my way to the counter, where the cashier lay lifelessly huddled over the cash register. There was a gaping wound in her neck so wide I could have seen directly through it, like a peephole.”Good morning, ma’am!” I said, hoping to get an answer, but there was none.
“Do you have a bag?” I asked again but still no answer.
“I’ll just help myself then,” I said to the dead cashier as I picked up a few grocery bags and stuffed as many stuff from my basket into it. The ammonia and hunger were probably going to my head. I quickly ran to the van, dropped off the bags then began making my way back to the grocery store to get some more stuff. I didn’t know what the future had in store for me and how much time I had before I ended up just like the people on the market floor. The food was all open and free and the least I could do to plaster the emotional damage around my heart was to indulge in as much food as I could. I knew what I was doing was wrong, but I was scared, depressed, and hungry, so I didn’t care, and there wasn’t anyone to stop me.
On my trek back to the store I heard a sudden audible knock on a hollow metal object, and a female voice whispered, “Good morning, baby.” The voice was loving and earnest and didn’t sound threatening, but my body jerked and then froze at the sound. There was a mix of fear and confusion welling up in me.
“Ummmm, good morning,” I responded.
Someone then said, “shhhhhhhh! Somebody’s hearing us.”
The place then went quiet. There was a huge green metal dumpster beside me, and the voices seemed to come from there. I looked around to ensure that no one else was around; then I knocked on the metal dumpster and asked, “Is anybody there?”
No response. I knocked on the dumpster again, but this time more viciously. “Is anybody in there?” I asked again. If there were survivors of the massacre, I was determined to find them. Surviving could be a lot easier in packs than alone.
“Nobody’s here, sorry,” a male voice answered. “So you can stop knocking!”
I peeked into the dumpster; there were black bags covered in all types of garbage like banana peels, chicken bones, clothes, and more. I moved away a few of the bags and I saw two people, a male and a female huddled together on the floor of the dumpster in a spooning cuddle and they were completely unharmed. Their clothes and skin were covered in dirt and slime from whatever the garbage presented. They looked relatively young, probably around my age or a bit older.
