Ugh I'm not gone. I can think. So this is what's after death just a never ending darkness, no, are my eyes just closed. I don't know? I can't tell. Well whatever it is at least I'm not gone.
Sigh, wow that's gotta be the biggest sigh I've ever had and this feeling I can't believe it I'm overjoyed and filled with relief.
Hah hahaha I can't believe I'm happy and after I've just seen what happened to my dad and sister. Wow, I'm just one sick individual huh.
Ah, I'm gonna fall asleep. With each word slowly losing energy I drifted away yet again.
It continued that way over and over for who knows how long. it was just me slipping in and out of a state I'm unable to describe. There was no pain or any type of feeling at all for that matter. I couldn't feel anything.
I've been drifting in and out for a while now and there's been no change, just the darkness and my thoughts. I couldn't move or well it felt like I didn't have anything to move, ahh it's happening again, well time for sleep. But this time I didn't, instead of everything slowly drifting away like the other times, for once it felt as if everything was returning and then I could feel cold, one thing I hadn't felt in a long time, eventually a warm light filled my closed eyes.
I opened my eyes to reveal the disturbing image of my hometown. Everything was gone. The once peaceful green little village in the valleys of Wales is now gone and was replaced with a wasteland of death. There was nothing left there were chunks of bodies here and there but they were beyond recognizable.
As I looked down at the village I began to wonder how I was alive. I'm not too sure what hit but there didn't seem to be a crater so I don't think it was a bomb but then again I'm no expert. Even though I live on the outskirts, surely I should have also died. After all, I turned back towards my house which I just previously walked out of, there was no need to use the door since there was a massive whole in the wall. I looked at my father and sisters body and just stared at them. I didn't even think or feel anything.
That rejogged the memories of the time my mother left us. She was a doctor and left because of me. I was five at the time and the reason she left was because I couldn't understand others emotions, or at least that's what she said.
It all started when I was 5, our dog died because of me, I tripped over and landed on it suffocating it to death. It was a Hungarian Vizsla named Jacky, after it died I simply chucked it in the bin, I didn't think too much of it and I still don't really understand what I did wrong, I mean it's just a pet you literally buy them so why not just get a new one.
After my mother found out, she was furious, and thought there was something wrong with me, so she took me to her friend who was also a doctor, but she worked in neuroscience. After the session with her and my mother ended they came to the conclusion that I had something called empathy deficit disorder, or at least that was the closest thing to my condition. But that's not what made her leave though. At first she wanted to help me get through this disorder and "fix me up into a child she could love" that's what she would always say. After a few more incidents like the last one including my grandparents death and more she couldn't take it anymore and by the time I reached 8 I overheard her telling my father that she couldn't love a monster like me but would keep in touch with my sisters who would live there during the week. Then she left without saying goodbye or anything, although I didn't really care after all She had been treating me coldly ever since I was five.
After my reminiscing was over I moved over towards the stairs, surprisingly they where still intact I walked up to my room and gathered a few things since even though I didn't have an idea about what was going home I was sure something big had happened so I collected some stuff from my room such as my phone, earbuds and some money I had stashed about £600, I also changed my outfit I was now wearing a black baggy t-shirt along with black joggers and a black lightweight hooded coat that only zipped halfway down and below the zipper was a rather big buttoned pocket that I could put things In. It seemed like a useful thing to wear. I was a pretty buff kid not as in muscle man big but for a 15 year old I had a wide back and muscular arms. I was around 6,4 and my outfit looked rather nice on me, at least that's what I thought. I was a handsome child from what other people had said and with my face came with brown hair that's short on the sides but had a fringe that came down all wavy and curled up just before my eyes, depending on where you were looking at me from some people couldn't even see my eyes. Before I left I picked up a big over armour rucksack and wore that too.
On my way out I went into the kitchen which was pretty messed up from whatever happened but I still managed to salvage what I needed. I got some water and some snacks, and then moved on out. before I left, I gave my house and my father and sisters body's another look and then set out.