The River At The End of The World | ✔

3. The Road Goes On

The terrible thing about settling down somewhere is that eventually you'll have to leave. Most of the time there'll be nothing you can do about it. That's just the way life is.

Big Sis seems to be getting worse. She has to use a walking stick or she can't move at all. That's why we stayed here an extra day. I looked at the dark red stains on her trousers. Mother told me not to worry but how can I not. I know it's not a symptom of the disease but it came out of nowhere and won't leave. I don't know what to think about it.

      We need to go now.

      How far now, Mother?

      Not far now. We're halfway there.

Within a few minutes we're already back on the trail. I thought the pain from my blisters would stop after a day of not walking but it only got worse.

Mother walks side-by-side Big Sis. The rest day looks like it benefited her the most. She hasn't complained about any searing headaches for a while. I don't know what we would've done if she had. That would be both of them that needed medication we didn't have and couldn't find. The only thing the shelter had was expired penicillin. We took it anyway because Father said no one else would be coming to that shelter again.

      Father, I don't understand. 

      What?

      The shelters were supposed to be packed with lots of people and clothes and medicine.

      They were.

      What does that mean?

      It means they aren't anymore.

I don't know what's happening to Father. He barely says a word anymore unless someone talks to him first. Hours go by and still silence.

We finally stop at a clearing for lunch. Three packets of crisps, two fizzy drinks and a chocolate bar. Father refuses to eat and instead spends the time fixed on a map and fidgeting with Mother's walkie-talkie. She's playing I spy with Nathan. He's happy and I don't know why. Can't he see what we all see? It's a grey world that somehow continues to get greyer as much as I hate to say it.

Lunch doesn't last long for us. No sooner do we eat do we leave. It happens all the time. Father says we have to spend every second we have on the path to the river but I'm tired. We're all tired now. Big Sis and Mother are falling further behind with each step. I've heard mom mumbling to herself. She does that all the time now and it gets louder with every word but I don't think father hears it nor will he want to.

Many hours go by once more. For now time keeps ticking along just as the world somehow does. Rain had been falling heavily since lunch had concluded and it made every step unbearable. One of the wheels of the pull-cart had been broken and so Father had been lugging with a scowl all day. I wanted to help but I knew he wouldn't let me because I'd probably slow us down even more.

Night descends as quickly as life becomes death. Dinner is the same as lunch and we eat in silence. This is not what a family should be and we should be able to talk to each other but it becomes increasingly hard.

      Mother, how are you?

      Fine.

      Sister?

      I have a bit of a headache but I'll be alright, okay? Don't worry about me. Get some sleep. 

      Goodnight Sister, I love you.

      I know.