Remember

A bright orange hue bathed the ruins of Cincinnati, the plants that now dominate the city perking up as the warmth moved over them. Marrex felt the warmth of the sun tickling his cold skin and began to shift in his sleeping bag. He slowly opened his eyes to see the sun cresting the horizon, the city covered in greenery and sunlight. It was all so beautiful but tragic at the same time. He started to sit up and scratched at his long, black beard. He rubbed his eyes and got up and out of his sleeping bag. He stretched and yawned, then went to his backpack. He grabbed the solar-powered camping heater and turned it on, then grabbing a metal mug from his bag and pouring some water from his cantine into it. He waited a moment while rubbing the grogginess from his eyes, as the water heated up. He grabbed a small pack of instant coffee from a hotel he had looted and poured it into the warm water and stirred it with a little camping spoon. He never cared for black coffee before, but now, he usually didn't have the luxury of creamers or sugars. and if he did, he had better uses for them. Besides he had grown accustomed to the bitter black coffee now, almost as if it added to the coffee's ability to help him wake up. He looked down at his neck where a golden locket dangled just below the nape of his neck. He pulled it open with his thumb and for finger, his wife, who had given him the locket, in the left frame, and a single word, wrote on his skin when he woke up in the right frame, "remember". He wished that he knew what she meant, but he wished for so many things these days. He hadn't seen her in over a year now, or anyone for that matter, only the mounds of clothes scattered everywhere. He had tried cracking the code many times before but could never figure out what she could have meant by "remember", he wasn't even sure she was the one that wrote it, but who else would have, he had only had her left in his life for so long before. His anger started to emerge, boiling in his brain, making his veins pop out as if his anger was a physical being trying to leave his body. If only he hadn't got hurt in the first place, maybe he could have done something. He couldn't even remember what had happened, he knew he left the house that morning, got in his car and that was the last bit of his memory he could summon before his mental imagery would fade into a cloudy nothingness. He sat there, somber, resentful, and lonely. He looked back up at the sun as he closed the locket back. He had done this so many times now, getting angry would not solve anything. He began gathering his belongings and packing them up. He had been traveling for a while looking for anyone or anything alive. He decided that today he would go to the local library and look for code-breaking books, perhaps the word was a code. He climbed down the ladder with his belongings on his back, brushing past the moving plants. He had gotten used to the plant's abnormal movements, the swaying, the strange erratic behaviors. He had seen a few newspapers already explaining that around the same time the plants started to move, something started to happen to any carbon-based lifeform that was around them. The newspaper called its extreme dehydrations, but the process was far more horrific than the description alone would lead you to believe. All of your cells would begin to be stripped of moisture until you simply turned to dust and blew away, and it wasn't just humans, animals did not escape the horrific ending. He assumed it started with a few and then affected the world over time, He had yet to see another living thing that wasn't a plant so he was sure they had all perished. He continued walking down the street, heading to the library, walking past old restaurants he had once eaten at, seeing signs with specials still written on them as if frozen in time, and the plants growing in and around everything. He made his way up the library steps and went inside. He went through the door and disappointment overtook him. As he scanned from left to right with his eyes he saw nothing but green and black everywhere. The books had been mostly burned for some reason and the plants had started to overrun everything inside. More clothes were scattered in the area. He turned around and went back out the door. He decided that maybe it was time to go back home again to look for clues. He had gone back, in the beginning, to look for her but had found nothing useful there, only pain, the pain brought on through memories. It was almost ironic how wonderful memories could hurt so much. He began his journey to Covington, just south of downtown Cincinnati. He could probably make it there in a few hours, but he was unsure that he was ready, unsure if he could handle that pain again, he already felt so alone. He slowly walked closer to the Brent Spence bridge but stopped as he got to it. The bridge had not been well taken care of before all of this had happened, and now it was covered in random vines, even more pieces missing, concrete cracking, pieces of metal rusted to the point of breaking. He considered other paths but perhaps it would still be safe to walk across. A few cars littered the street as he walked across the bridge wearily. looking into the broken window of one car to see a small set of clothes in the back seat, he tried not to think about it and continued moving. The plants still writhing around as he walked. He had always wondered why he had been spared when he could find no one else that had been given the same curse. He neared the other side of the bridge and his nerves started to fade. Step by step he neared the other side and would be safe. Right foot, left foot, right foot, left...... it sank, as the street collapsed under his left foot he instantly fell into this new sinkhole. His right foot soon went in as well as more of the ground gave way, he grasped at the street reaching for solid ground. He franticly grabbed at the road as it gave way and he began his descent to the road below. his eyes open wide, his adrenaline rushing, his pulse pounding in his ears as he fell. But as he fell he soon his a steel beam close to the underneath of the top of the bridge, and as he bounced his arm reach out as if of its own will and grabbed the beam next to him. he dangled there for a moment, stunned. He tightened his grasp and began to lift himself onto the beam. the street had decayed in this spot but the beam remained intact. He then reached up for the street and pulled onto each spot until he found some that did not give out under his weight. He pulled himself back onto the street, he wanted to lie there and catch his breath but he knew this bridge was no longer safe and he needed to move. He got up took his back off, he began to toss it in front of him, if it held he walked forward, and if it didn't well he would need some new stuff. He made his way across without losing his bag, something to be grateful for. He moved to the end of the bridge and made his way down the exit ramp. His movements slowed down a bit as he remembered singing alongside her in the car as they made their way to their home. He remembered so much still, but every memory felt like it had started to fade. He moved up the hill and neared their home, his mind fighting itself as he approached. He wanted to run from the pain but felt drawn to the home like a moth to a light in the night. As he walked through the front door his mind flooded with memories of seeing her smile, memories and enjoying a quiet life here with her. He tried to push past the thoughts and start looking around. for any clues. He remembered the journal she used to keep, she was always telling him to never read it. He was always so nosey, but respected her wishes and avoided the thought of even reading it, until today. He climbed the stairs wearily and walked through the doorway of their bedroom. He looked around the room at the remnants of his once-happy life with her. Tears began to accumulate in his eyes. He allowed himself this moment, he allowed himself to feel, to hurt, and to mourne at this moment. He allowed himself to be human at this moment. He slowly regained his composure, he stuffed his feelings back into their bottle and closed the lid tight. He moved to the drawer she kept her prized possessions in. He pulled open the drawer and looked down at the dusty journal. He pulled it out and gently brushed the cover off. It just had random stickers on the front, with no words written on it. He made his way to the bed and slowly sat down with the book, the bed making disturbing creaking as he put his full weight on it. He peered at the cover for a moment, his mind racing, and opened it. The first page simply said, " I told you not to look at my journal" with a grumpy face drawn next to it. He chuckled softly as he began to read. She had written vague descriptions of various dates and adventures they had been on with little notes written in about how much fun she had. He read each passage lovingly until he got to one that started with the word "Remember". He was shocked, if only he had been stronger and looked the first time he came here, he wouldn't have missed this, a year wasted. The passage read " Remember this always, this memory with him will be the one you tell people when I want to talk about how amazing he is, the lakes were so beautiful, his smile so kind, I will always remember this day, always" He felt goosebumps reading this passage, he emotions overwhelming him once again, but he felt a newfound hope. He knew now what the word meant. She was referring to this passage, she thought I had already read the journal, which is why she had the note in the beginning, he knew, he had to go to the Great Lakes where they went on their most romantic date ever. He had a new purpose and new meaning. It was time to move on, time to begin a new journey, and he hoped, in the end, he would find her. He left the house, never to return, and began his new journey with his new purpose. The End.