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Nostalgia

I sit on the roof of the tallest building on this tiny island, looking down at the destruction. I see slowly moving groups of them traveling around, searching for something to infect. I look up at the city, wondering what if would have been like before all this death. I imagine the lights in each window, the sounds of laughter and music traveling through the streets. I imagine only what I've read in the few books in the records.

I think back on how different this could have been if I hadn't taken this job. We might have survived. I think about how she could've helped us through the paths. I regret no letting her in, instead insisting that I could have killed her with every touch. I think back to the days of my sister and I playing around the lighthouse, when I first saw her. I climbed up the slick walls of the lighthouse, and she looked out at me with curious eyes. I wanted to reach out to her, but she turned her head, shouted something inside, and left. I think of her coming around more often, how she and my sister bonded instantly. I remember the night when we kissed, away from the group while everyone screamed.

But that night was so much more than that. All our friends, infected. Me, too. I remember her visiting me, though I tried to push her away. We could've been happy, but not in this world. I remember me telling her that. I wish I could go back, change the words I used. I wish I had lived like she wanted to let me. She let me push her away.

But the next one didn't. She fought, and I couldn't let her. I remember the way were played in the snow. I was happy. But she could never be with the scars that covered the left side of her body.

Frozen hands land gently on my shoulders. I turn, seeing her smiling face. Maybe that's my fatal mistake. I wished for a smile, but I can't give one back.



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