The last time I wrote, I was in the depths of despair. The wound remains raw. Reading my previous entry brings back all of those emotions. I was convinced that I had lost everything, and I couldn't face life alone again.
When I woke up the next morning, I made up my mind that I was going to take the pills. I made the decision so easily, like choosing which socks to wear. It was a black sock day. When Ma cut her wrists, Mrs. Patel described it as ‘taking the easy way out.' She was right, it was easy. Easier than trying to survive alone, of worrying every day if you would be ripped apart by the dogs, or succumb to an illness and die a horrible lonely death.
I laid out the tablets in two rows. There were two packets of twenty-eight light blue capsules. I poured some water into a glass and began to empty the contents of the capsules into it. It created a scummy mess, but it was better than trying to take fifty-six capsules whole, one after another.
I stirred the mixture with a bright plastic drinking straw I had found in the kitchen drawer. It looked so innocuous, like a Christmas Snow Globe. One small glass of milky liquid, yet it had the power to wipe away so much pain and disillusionment. If my heart stops beating, it won't be able to hurt me anymore.
One swallow would be all it would take to delete me from this broken world. It would be as if I never even existed. There would be no one to weep for me. No one would even know.
I sat looking at that glass for what seemed like hours, but in all honesty, I have no idea how long I sat there for. Would I have had the courage to drink down that elixir of eternal sleep? Who knows?
I lifted the glass off the table and slipped the end of that ridiculously cheerful straw between my lips, moments before I heard Sal’s unmistakable bark.
She barged into the cabin, throwing herself at me and knocking the glass from my hands. Crying excitedly, she licked my face, climbing onto my lap as Dad and the others followed her into the room.
Immediately, I was filled with shame as I saw the look of horror on Dad’s face when he saw the scattered pile of blue capsules on the table and the empty glass on the floor.
“I didn’t take any,” I told him.
“Thank God,” Gathering me in his arms, he let out a long sigh, “Nikki didn’t die from the pox. It was bubonic plague - from the rats. If we had known earlier, we could have saved her. The disease can be treated with antibiotics. James has pumped Peter full of them and thinks he should make a full recovery. You know what this means Harper? We can go back - all of us.”
We did go back. We went back and were welcomed like lost sheep - Prodigal Daughter Two.
There was a lot of guilt about, an epidemic. There always seems to be a lot of guilt about when we humans get together. The guilt-laden community rallied around us, justifying their actions with fear - like the 'good Germans' of Hitler's Germany. No one likes to think that they could do evil things to other people, but given the right circumstances, I suspect that most of us can. 'Survival of the fittest...' Though what constitutes 'the fittest' most people get wrong. With dogs and humans, a more accurate quote might be, 'Survival of the murderous.' Darwin said that it is not the strongest that survive, nor the most intelligent, but those of us who are most responsive to change.
Damaged people know how to survive - we have been doing it for most of our lives.
These last few months, I have learned how to harvest and preserve food, how to chop wood, hunt, fish, knit and sew, and how to play the guitar.
It snowed last night. A few flakes fell as we made our way back from our evening meal in the community building. This morning the lake was frozen and everywhere was painted white. The fields looked like the landscape of Monet's 'Magpie' - vibrant in three beautiful, living, breathing dimensions.
In this last year, I have experienced some of the worst and very best days of my life. As I sit here, beside the crackling fire, watching Dad and Jess playing chess (Dad taught him last week) and with Sal dozing at my feet, I am content.
Life is good. To think I almost gave it all up...
Jess asks me what I am writing. I tell him I am saying goodbye to a friend.
Soon, I shall grab my coat and take Sal for a walk in the snow, but first I shall take you - my dear diary, and hide you away in a box in my room. You will not be alone. I will wrap you in my old jeans and lay you beside my Girl Guide Handbook. There you will remain, undisturbed, until the day I have a need to tell our story. The story of how the world had to end, before I found my family.
Goodbye, my friend - I would not have made it without you.
Thank you for reading this book.
If you enjoyed this story, please tell a friend or leave a review so that this book can find the right readers.
More Books By This Author
About the Author
Karen Wrighton was born in a small town in the English county of Staffordshire. Karen’s first book,ASCENSION OF THE WHYTE,was the first ofThe AfterlandChronicles. RYTE OF PASSAGEis the second book in the series.
Karen has two daughters and lives in Norfolk, England with her husband, John.
“The power of words is constantly underestimated, with words you can heal, create, injure and even kill.
Words justify our existence and define our humanity.”
KAREN WRIGHTON
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Table of Contents
12th July ~ A Time to Live
12th July ~ A Time to Live
13th July ~ The End of Days
13th July ~ The End of Days
14th July ~ Man's Best Friend
14th July ~ Man's Best Friend
15th July ~ Hungry Like The Wolf
15th July ~ Hungry Like The Wolf
16th ~ July Hope Flies
16th ~ July Hope Flies
17th July ~ Little By Little One Travels Far
17th July ~ Little By Little One Travels Far
18th July ~ We, The Hunted
18th July ~ We, The Hunted
19th July ~ The Orphan's Mother
19th July ~ The Orphan's Mother
20th July ~ Savages and Strangers
20th July ~ Savages and Strangers
21st July ~ Wet Nosed Hero
21st July ~ Wet Nosed Hero
22nd July ~ An Awful Waste of Space
22nd July ~ An Awful Waste of Space
23rd July ~ Needs Must When the Devil Drives
23rd July ~ Needs Must When the Devil Drives
24th July ~ The Only Game in Town
24th July ~ The Only Game in Town
25th July ~ Eye of the Storm
25th July ~ Eye of the Storm
26th July ~ Legacy of Scars
26th July ~ Legacy of Scars
27th July ~ Leaving Home
27th July ~ Leaving Home
28th July ~ Safe Haven
28th July ~ Safe Haven
29th July ~ Friends in Need
29th July ~ Friends in Need
30th July ~ Written in the DNA
30th July ~ Written in the DNA
7th August ~ Prodigal Daughter
7th August ~ Prodigal Daughter
8th August ~ P.S. ~ I Miss You
8th August ~ P.S. ~ I Miss You
9th August ~ A Mischief of Rats
9th August ~ A Mischief of Rats
14th August ~ Shangri~La
14th August ~ Shangri~La
15th August ~ A Plague on Both Your Houses
15th August ~ A Plague on Both Your Houses
16th August ~ The Things we do for Love
16th August ~ The Things we do for Love
17th August ~ Suicide is Pai
nless
17th August ~ Suicide is Painless
31st December ~ Resolutions
31st December ~ Resolutions
The Last Girl Guide: Diary of a Survivor Page 13