First time I’ve written in a long while... completed poetry collection of January 7th 2020.
Rated PG for mental health mentions
If only they knew how loud my thoughts were; how I can barely fall asleep at night because my mind is racing at a mile a minute.
See, that's the thing about not being able to talk and not being able to relieve some of the communicative pressure building inside of your head. It piles up after a while, and all of those unspoken thoughts fester until they explode in a different way.
Headaches render me to my bed all day and my hand cramps from trying to write down what I'm thinking so people don't get bored and leave before I can form a sentence.
But for all of the difficulties, I may face in my silent days, it doesn't affect my story or me.
It has been days since I've seen someone. Someone alive that I could talk to.
No one knew anything about the plague or where it came from, only that it killed everything it came into contact with.
Everything.. except me.
It was like I was immune, but.. how is that possible?
I reported this to the government, and so they ran tests on me.
Before they could find anything though, the plague had arrived.
One day, I woke up in a surgery room. My doctor was laying face down on my stomach, dead.
She must have been dead for a long time, I could only see her skeleton and her surgeon clothes.
How long was I asleep?
She seemed to have a pistol in her hand.. Perhaps she tried to stop itfrom getting to us.
I got up, though I had a big pain in my arm. No wound to be seen.
I walked to the door while holding my arm.
Just as I got close, the door opened on it's own.
Must've been the wind.
After making my way through the hospital, I found an archive room.
A doctor was laying face down, dead, on a desk.
I could see a monitor, the screen still turned on.
I could see the world map..though something was strange.
The whole map was in a red color, it seemed odd to me. I looked at the right bottom corner of the monitor.
It was a small red box with the text 'Infected Land' on it.
Then, it struck me.
The plague spread far beyond Europe, to every corner of the world. Entire countries collapsed within the first days of reported cases.
The world as it was, ended. There was nothing to be done about that.
I couldn't resist to read more, so I turned of the monitor.
I remained inside the hospital 'till I ran out of supplies.
Since then, I have been searching for anyone alive.
But all I could find where bones and destroyed buildings.
There mustbe someone like me, there HASto!
The streets are a lot more quiet now.. way too quiet.
Sometimes, I just scream my lungs out just so I can hear something. Anything.
The silence is deafening.
I couldn't be the only one immune, I can't be.
I haven't been alone this in my life.
I'm..afraid. Afraid that I may indeed be the only one.
I don't know why I am even writing this.
If I am the only one left.. then no one can read it.
The silence hasn't left me for a bit. I no longer have a voice to break it..
I have the doctor's gun in my bag, just in case it's needed.
I've never needed anything more than just food and.. people to talk to.
Maybe I can join them.
Maybe... I won't be so alone anymore.