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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2183862
Rated: 13+ · Fiction · Dark · #2183862
Sometimes the greatest wars are waged within.
SURVIVOR

The ceiling hadn't moved in the many hours she'd lain motionless, just staring up at it. Lines of light from the rising and setting sun had marched across the ceiling, marking time as it spilled in through the blinds. Time was slowly running out as night began to fall, spreading a velvet blanket of darkness over a world gone mad. Soon the shadows would get in.

What could she do? She had never been strong, and what a cruel joke from the universe that on the same day she comes home from the hospital the whole fucking world goes up in flames. The gunfire outside had quieted, but she knew that could only mean worse things for those caught in the aftermath. It had only been three days since the first bomb fell - there had to be someone left out there.

But she was no survivor.

Softly, with trembling fingers, she brushed the still-fresh scars on the insides of her wrists, gritting her teeth. Had she really survived herself only to be lost to the chaos of war? Would she lay there in the dark until the shadows crept in over her and swallowed her? If she was going to live she was going to have to get up. She refused to just stay in bed waiting to die, surrounded by the same four walls she'd made her personal prison.

Her legs shook as she got to her feet, a fresh wave of panic threatening to send her scrambling back under the blankets. Another step and sweat broke out across her forehead, doubt making every cell in her body recoil from her intended path. But if she was going to survive this war there was another battle that had to be fought first.

She stumbled to the mirror in the dying light of dusk, finding the face of a stranger reflected in the dim glass. Her eyes were dark, the line of her mouth tight with determination as she exhaled, "I'm not afraid of you." A long moment of buzzing silence passed, broken by another blast of explosive sound somewhere in the distance outside her window.

Slowly she turned away from her reflection and moved to pack her bag.


(Written for the 2/25/19 Daily Flash Fiction Challenge but not submitted in time!)

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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2183862