(AIASP) Alone

Alone


A dry, harsh breeze pushed relentlessly across a lifeless, dead landscape. The sun was blotted out by dark, fast moving clouds. Two shapes stood out against an endless flat, broken desert of cracked ground and lonely footsteps. John Peregrinus sat, collapsed before a gravestone, the wind stinging his tear stained face.
“So…. That’s what happened then. No… hope… no hope at all…” He wept. Sobs so powerful and deep, pain flooded his stomach with each staccato breath he took. His tears flowed freely, and stained the dusty ground, the only bit of moisture that had ever reached it.
Suddenly filled with rage, John pounded on the ground with his fists, desperately yelling out to anything, anyone.
“WHY?!?”
John searched through what he could remember of what was Before. Darkness met his search. He fell over onto his back and desperately tried to remember the taste of root beer, or the smell of a rainy summer morning. He tried to remember the feel of his wife’s skin against his, or the sound of rain tapping against the roof of his house. Tried to remember the ache in his limbs after a hard days work, or the sound of his children’s laughter bouncing in from the play room two doors down from his study.

The only sound that came to his ears as the whistle of the wind, and the only sensation that came to his skin was the sting of the dust as it scratched violently against his skin. He tried to picture the smile on his wife’s face, but no image came to his minds eye.

His eyes filled with tears again. Memory of that was beyond him now. He knew he had once had all of those things he tried to remember. He had a wife, 3 kids, and a nice home. But those things only appeared as text in his mind, and he couldn’t understand why the memories wouldn’t come.

His memory took him back only as far as yesterday. Or was it a day before? A year? 20 years? 200 years? He couldn’t remember that either. There wasn’t a way to tell time in this hellish desert. It was always just light enough to see his way, always a scoring wind in his face, and always an endless desert spreading out before him. An endless monotony, repeating environment and thoughts was all he had ever known. His stomach was always hungry, his throat was always thirsty, and he was always tired.

And yet, he never ate, never drank, and couldn’t sleep. He couldn’t even go insane. He thought about talking to himself from time to time, but he never had anything to say.

Pulling himself back up off the ground he reread the stone before him, accepting the only new material his mind had been given to work with in as long as he could remember.

In Loving Memory of John Peregrinus

Father of Three and Loving Husband

May he rest in Peace


John stared at the letters and tried to remember how long it had been since he had come across the gravestone.

He couldn’t remember.

He reached out towards the gravestone, his hands brushing against the coarse, grey rock. His fingers felt the smooth indentations of the words, the only soft thing he could remember feeling.
“No, it can’t be true. I won’t believe it. I WON’T!” John pulled a fist back and slammed it into the gravestone. Blood dripping from his knuckles, he let himself fall over sideways, his tears staining the thirsty ground.
Slowly, his eyes drifted shut as he lay on his back, the whistle of the wind rocking him to sleep. His tears stopped flowing, his chest stopped heaving, and his heart stopped beating. The wind stopped, and the tired sun set in the distance.


* * * *

John Peregrinus passed away on Monday, February 25, 2008. He had been in a coma for 3 weeks after his car collided with a semi. His wife, Sarah Peregrinus and their three children, Robert Peregrinus, Jonathan Peregrinus, and Opal Peregrinus all perished instantly in the crash. He would have been the lone survivor.

Some say they are alone in this world.

Few truly know what that means.

Rest in peace, John. We can only hope you’re with your family now.