A world. Not just lifeless—hollow. A graveyard of forgotten laughter and burnt dreams. Everything reeks of despair… and, well, me.

I don’t even know what I’m supposed to feel anymore. Anger? Grief? Gas? Hell, I think I passed the emotional expiration date weeks ago.

I’m tired. So, so tired. If only the apocalypse hadn’t gone and ruined everyone’s plans—including mine. I mean, I was supposed to graduate, not outlive my entire family and end up in a crusty old trailer like some tragic raccoon.

And yet, here I am. Alive. Breathing. Smelling like roadkill sautéed in garbage juice. Ha. Lucky me.

I found a can of beans the other day. I nearly cried. Actually—I did cry. Then I laughed. Then I cried again. I think I’m emotionally constipated.

But today? Today was different.

I peeled myself off the squeaky excuse of a bed, wincing at the smell of my own underarms. Water. I needed water. Desperation clung to me like the dirt on my skin. So I left. My home. My trailer. My trash palace.

Hours passed. Or minutes? Time doesn’t exist anymore. Not when every day is the same dull grey.

Then… something in the distance. Something moving. Something not me.

I blinked. Rubbed my eyes. Stared again. Holy crap— Was that a person?! A real human?! Not a hallucination brought on by bean fumes?!

I stumbled forward, trying to stay calm—well, calm ish. My heart was doing backflips in my chest.

I reached him. Or it. No sudden movements. I stretched out my hand and tapped him on the shoulder, my voice dry and cautious.

"...Hey?"