Akeldama | lrh

twelve - gone

"Grief is like the ocean; it comes in waves, ebbing and flowing. Sometimes the water is calm, and sometimes it is overwhelming. All you can do is learn to swim."
- Vicki Harrison

•••

It's past midnight, and I can't sleep.

We retired in a wrecked storage building as soon as the sun started to set, and Luke and the others blocked off all entrances so no mutants could get in. They fought off enough today as it is, encountering hoards after hoards of them as we ascended to the northeastern part of the continent. One of the mutated girls slashed at me with broken fingernails, and there's still dried blood on the top of my forearm from the scratches. I couldn't care less.

I've stuffed a blanket in my mouth, my free hand clutching my phone. It's almost dead. The smiling picture of my family stares at me from the screen, and another sob wracks it's way through my throat.

I don't know why I'm torturing myself like this. But I can't stop.

Isabelle. Justin. Jared.

My siblings were so young. They didn't deserve the end they got. It's this thought that makes me finally turn off my phone, curling in on myself and shoving my face into the pillow.

We have minimal tents now, a lot of the supplies were lost in the escapades with the mutants. Instead we sleep on the cold ground, wrapped in what blankets we have left, surrounding a dulling fire. Calum and Ivy keep watch across the massive room.

I try so hard to suck it in. To stop the relentless tears from pouring down my face. To stop the horrible loss from eating me away from the inside. But I can't. So I just lay here, gripping the fabric tightly and trying to muffle the sounds of my own despair.

I'm so caught up in my own emotions that when I hear a soft voice calling my name, I flinch. My swollen eyes blink open to see Luke, of all people, crouched down next to me with furrowed eyebrows.

"Go a-away." I mutter, pushing my face back into the pillow in a sad attempt to hide my hideously puffy features. I don't need another positivity speech. I need to punch something.

"Alexandra." He whispers again, and this time I surface only to glare at him. Luke seems hesitant but determined, his graceful fingers splayed out only inches from mine. I could reach out and touch him if I wanted to. "Do you want to get out of here?"

I blink. He is seriously suggesting that I leave with him, to go God knows where. "You c-can't be serious."

"I want to help."

He holds out his hand, and I stare at it, my fingers twitching from where they're been fisted in the fabric of my pillow. A silent war goes on in my head, sending the grief and denial flurrying up like leaves on a windy day. Fuck it.

I take his hand, letting his calloused fingers wrap around mine and help me up. I stumble and almost fall when I stand, and he catches me with a swift grip on my hips. They still there for a few moments, Luke's eyes shining, before letting go. My head is cloudy.

"Come on." He whispers, before turning away and walking out of the circle of people, towards one of the back doors of the place.

Calum is passed out against the main entrance, his machine gun still armed in his lap. Ivy is awake but doesn't pay us any attention as I follow the black haired boy to the back, watching him pull away the large clumps of wreckage they used to block the door earlier. He gets it open with ease, and the cool night sends my hair blowing in wisps around my face. I walk out through the opening without looking at him to step outside.