As The World Is Now Dead And Gone

The world was already a destructive place,and we made it this way. We killed and cheated and lied, we destructive, malicious humans paid no thought to the seven deadly sins when we committed our horrid acts of passion and jealousy and greed. No, we paid no thought until all our sins and parishes and ruins had came back to take a huge bite out of our asses.

The world was already a destructive place but now it had already been destroyed, all that lies are adjacent buildings that line next to each other staring down at us and the rest of the world, as if they knew that we had engendered this entire mess, we had cursed this world. Pollution coated and covered the streets like viscous, un-dried cement. Ashes and embers follow our paths, lining our residual footprints.

The dead roamed our highways, and corner streets, our malls and our factories.

This purgatory, it was my stage between life and death. I was on the edge of hell, about to dive in head first into the pits of fire that was created by me and continued flaming for me.
A place that seemed to follow me, hell seemed closer to home than this heinous and vile place that I had fought my way through and through with only my pistol and my cactus that I had called Jamie. (I liked Jamie.)

Should I Stay or Should I Go played on a rehash through my brain, echoing from my left and right temple, as if it was a bullet ricocheting from two corners of a room. I held my dear pistol that had been given to me from my dad who had loved me so unconditionally even through all the disasters that I caused. He had given his life to the dead to save mine, my sad menial life.

I held the pistol point blank against my temple, I was shaky and trembling but I had yet to shed a single tear. I hadn’t cried in 654 days. I counted. Why was I scared? This day was bound to come, after years combing my way through this Earth searching for anyone or anything to give me hope, all I had left was my reflection and my own thoughts keep me company. I’ve prepared myself for months, every night before I laid myself to sleep upon dirty and crooked floorboards, I told myself to continue, that I would make it through this because I had made it through everything. And it was true, I lived through the death of my entire family including my dad, I had made it through fatigue and starvation and all the dead that I came upon in this scorching Earth. But the only thing that had brought me to this dire roadblock in my life was my own loneliness. It was heart aching, miserable, ghastly and harrowing. My loneliness is the only thing that's stopping me from slamming this damned gun down and striding on in my father’s memory.

I am bitter and I am broken and the more I thought about all these things, the harder I pulled onto the pistol and the closer I was to pulling the trigger.

Sun was soon rising, as it peaked itself into the grey sky. Dusk was my favorite time of day, but now as I was cloaked in dirt and sweat with a gun to my throat, I felt no love for dusk. I despised it.

This empty room felt even more empty with me in it, but where else do I have to go.

Home. The word rang through my aching head and my hand no longer shook nor trembled, for I knew what I had to do. For I know that my family would forgive me if I finally got to see them and leave this purgatory.

A small chuckle left my lips before I finally pulled the trigger.

“STOP!”

But you were too late.

Author's Note

ignore grammar, is the story and thoughts going through her head understandable through my writing? what do you think of my descriptive writing?

Reviews

[Giulia King]

"Should I Stay or Should I Go played on a rehash through my brain, echoing from my left and right temple"
Reminds me of "Stranger Things" show.
Overall I like this story, it got me hooked