Rapture in Reverse, Day 7
A Short Story in Serial
October 3, 2029
They haunt me. I see their faces everywhere I go. Their eves focused on us.
Focused on me.
I can’t close my eyes without seeing them.
Tearing. Screeching.
I feel them inside me. Rattling around in my brain. In my skin.
I cleaned the wound and wrapped it well. I’ve started taking antibiotics, although I still haven’t told anyone.
What will antibiotics do anyway? I see shades of green peeking out from under the bandage.
I don’t feel well.
My skin hurts.
My ears are beginning to buzz.
We are still sitting on the ship. Why haven’t we left? The others are debating what to do next.
They ask me why I’m limping. I told them I twisted my ankle trying to get away.
No one else can tell the story.
No one but me. The others are dead.
They don’t press me. They are scared and fighting.
There are some who want to return to the beach.
Why? Why would they even consider going back. There is only death on that beach.
I’ve told them we must leave. We can’t wait.
Anyone who arrived before us is probably dead now. That is why they never returned. Where are the boats? There were other boats before ours.
Where are the boats?
I’m so tired.
Please, God,
help me.
Read Day 8, coming soon. Read it in your email by subscribing for free, or come back and visit! Will link it here once it’s live.
Just finding this story, discover how it starter here:
I guess it was too much to hope that as a species we would be rescued twice. I sense the narrator is going through some kind of metamorphosis. Who and what will she be when this is all over?
Pretty scary.