Goodbye - 5/25

Coma girl snaps from her trance as I try unsuccessfully to stand up, echoing Rachel’s command to run. Grabbing Rachel’s wrist, she scoops the child up in such an athletic way that I could have believed I was watching Marcos. There is no acknowledgement of me as she runs past, bolting for the entrance as the early rain of debris begins to magnify into a cascading wave of destruction.

This was it, finally, I had fallen behind enough that my death was inevitable.

I close my eyes as the dust thickens, protecting them as I accept my fate.

Goodbye Marcos. See you soon, Julie.

“Run!” I hear in the distance—a distance not within grasp of the waking world. It was Rachel yelling. Julie and her dad are yelling. Marcos, yelling. I could hear the voices of those I had never met, screaming at me to move, to run. Alarms morphed into the sounds of my family, which I had long left behind, and the friends I had failed to catch up with. Voices from my old and new dreams alike, all screaming at once, grabbing my very soul from within the darkness behind my eyelids, forcing them open and into the abrasive dust.

They will not let me succumb to my fate alone, escorting me to the very end, piling the regrets on higher than the piles of shattered lives that rule the city around me.

I lingered in the nexus between life and death. All I can comprehend is the bone-rending truth hidden in the void. Apparently, even in death, I will not be allowed to escape myself. I will not be able to escape my regrets.

The death I had longed for my entire life was suddenly no longer a comforting end.

I want to live.

No, I have to live.

My eyes shoot open and I catch the last trail of the woman's hair as she makes her way through the entrance, mere feet away from where I had abandoned her before closing my eyes what felt like lifetimes ago. Time accelerates back to life as the small moments I had lost to infinity are torn back to a chaotic reality.

I have to get out no matter the cost. I urge my legs to move. Beg them.

My pleas fall silently into the dust.

Then I’ll have to crawl.

I slammed my good arm forward, fingers searching for anything to grip onto.

A centimeter to start.

Then an inch.

A foot.

I drag myself, scraping against the newly discarded wreckage of the building as it falls in upon itself. No matter the pain I feel as discarded glass and metal dig into my body, I have to keep moving.

“Run.”

My body is filled with an urgency I have never felt before. An unquenchable fire, one that the care from the others had bestowed upon me. The culmination of not only their blood, sweat, and tears, but their cries from beyond, the very essence of them that I could only understand through their deaths. A burning desire to survive.

I flop, roll, and pull myself along in any way I can to cover the few feet that separate me and the entrance. What seemed like an insurmountable distance mere moments ago was now obtainable, laughable even. What pain I had felt was replaced by the fire inside, bursting within the arteries of my body and sending me into overdrive. Each pump of my heart tears through me harder than any earthquake could ever dare.

Those haunting voices are replaced with my heartbeat. Loud, clear, consuming, alive.

I want to live.

My fingers grip the fragmented door frame, catapulting me forward as they find their first good grip of this exodus. Wrenching myself awkwardly through the gap, the shattered concrete that we thought of as protective now looms between me and salvation. Evening light shone through the dust like a neon exit sign pointing me onward.

With no time left to think, I grip the serrated concrete with enough force to tear into it as it tears through me, fresh blood welling in my palm. Unlike the floor, I could not flop or roll up the inclined slab. Pure strength was my only escape.

I have to live.

I set my feet as best I could for balance as I pull myself into a standing position, dragging my hand forward as best I can to find a higher purchase. Further toward the light I climb, sliding occasionally back, barely making any progress.

My hand reaches the top, and I try with all of my might to pull myself up and over, only to fail at getting my chest above the apex. One arm won’t be enough. Uselessly, my legs swing, unable to find purchase with my wet plastic shoes.

There isn’t time to catch my breath before I attempt to pull myself up once more, a feral scream escaping my throat as I do. It was a noise I never believed myself capable of producing. Animalistically, I claw the slab, fighting for every inch I can, shredding the stark remains of my fingertips as I do.

I manage to make it just far enough this time, placing my contorted left arm above the top as an anchor. It’s the last piece of the puzzle I need. I strain the crooked mess of an arm, wrenching my shoulder as I pull with my other, dragging my ragdoll body up just a little higher than before. My hips are just high enough for my weight to shift. Collapsing over the edge, I tumble down the other side and into the street.

Concrete particulates still surround me, but to a much lesser extent. I breathe the comparatively clean air, lungs still burning. Another scream escapes. I did not know if I was far enough from danger to give up just yet, but my body was starting to protest loudly, urging me to break before it did. I refuse it the same way it had me.

Inching like a caterpillar once more, I rally the parts of me I could still control, desperate to put as much ground between me and the danger.

I dare not raise my head, only focusing on the inches I see in front of me. Making my way further down the street, I do not stop until the sounds of the building moving begin to settle. I don’t lift my head for a couple of minutes, fearing that even looking at the world around me would once again throw it into chaos.

Eventually, voices ring out, echoing through the vacant street.

I look up, taking in my current location as a group of familiar faces race toward me.

Yesterday's rain had cleaned the landscape temporarily, only for the new dust to fall and cake it once more. Pools of water formed near the blocked drains, and as new debris settles, it mixes in such a way that the road looks to be a shimmering grey river, sparkling in the dying sunlight emanating from the west.

Alex and Marcos lead the pack as they rush toward me, vibrant splashing following their steps as they do. In that moment, all I can think to do is laugh, which quickly morphs into a fit of coughing. I roll onto my back and continue to cough, relieving my throat of as much pollution as I can. Blood from my coughs mixes with dust in a macabre painting on my face.

I lie coughing, but smiling, listening as the footsteps draw closer.