Scorched
In and out. In and out. I repeated in my head like a mantra as if it would be enough to save me. Focusing on my breathing was the only way to keep me from going insane. It had been 129 days since the world ended. I sat crouched in an abandoned building my heart locket clutched in one hand the other steading myself against the wall. My clothes were filthy and ragged, my backpack comprised of more duct tape than fabric at this point. Most of the building around me had collapsed and I was crouched behind what was left of one wall, a corner of shade protected me from the scorching sun. My legs were starting to cramp from my crouched position, and I could feel the sweat dripping down my back. I needed to decide, run for supplies, or wait till night when it was safe. I decided to wait, rocking back onto my bum I slumped against the wall behind me and propped my legs up on rubble in front of me. Turning the locket over again and again in my hand I relaxed a little. My locket was the only personal possession I had, everything else had a distinct purpose and was necessary for survival from the layers of clothing to keep the scorching sun off my skin to my ragged backpack containing two water canteens, some crackers I’d found at an abandoned store, an umbrella, and a sunburn kit with bandages and plant salve. The locket contained photos of my parents and my best friend, but it served as a reminder of a previous life, before the world had been scorched, before I was alone struggling to survive, and before I’d lost every single person I had ever known. Today was my nineteenth birthday, I felt sad remembering how my dad used to make me pancakes every year on my birthday. I smiled remembering his goofy grin waking me up and usually spilling the syrup on me as he insisted, I had the royal treatment of breakfast in bed. I let myself slip into a daydream, thinking of life before the world ended.