Volume 1 Issue 34: Dawn

May the Night Take Me
Kelli J Gavin

I can’t do this anymore.  I live my life waiting. Waiting for my next meal or for it to rain. Waiting to find something to catch the rain in.  Hoping it will be today. I wait for the hunger to subside, and for that pain deep in my gut to lessen. I wait for all of this to end. But will it? Will it ever be any better? The only way out is death. I pray some night I will die in my sleep. Yet I continue to rise at dawn each new day.

I used to wait for Carrie to return. She must have been overcome by the road gangs.  I wished that would happen to me. Not that I could have taken her place, more so that I would have been with her and benefitted from the same fate.  A fate that meant I wouldn’t be here anymore. Waking up each morning and taking my first conscious breath, I wish for death. It is the only thing I wish for anymore.

Carrie and I had been together for 10 years before the invasion.  10 years is never enough time when you are with the love of your life. She made me feel like a better man, one that could and would succeed because Carrie was by my side. My wife, my cheerleader, the lover of my soul.

I ripped my leg open on a fence I was attempting to jump over. Carrie said she would go in search of medication, antibiotics, anything that could help me. She wouldn’t look at me, but kissed me hard and told me she loved me.  Loved me so much it hurt. As I laid in that bed wincing from the pain my leg, I didn’t ask her to promise she would return to me.

The first six months, I believed she was coming back.  The next two years, I let my thoughts get the best of me.  She left me, lied about getting medication and never had any plans of returning. This can’t be true. If she even felt a ounce of what I felt for her, she would never be able to live seperate from me. I was knitted to her and she to me. At least that is what I have convinced myself.

My leg never fully healed yet I was able to rid myself of infection.  The scaring is still painful to the touch and my pronounced shuffle of my weakened leg announces my arrival at our community meetings.  The community meetings I now run. I am in charge. A small group of 37 which was once a large group of 94. Sickness raged and many have given up. Given up in the night.  Given up on the hope a new dawn sometimes brings. For now I will stay. I will lead this hodge podge group. I will direct and mediate. Until we decide what to do next. But then, I will pray the night will take me too.  

Kelli J Gavin lives in Carver, Minnesota with Josh, her husband of an obscene amount of years and they have two crazy kids. She is a Writer, Professional Organizer and owns Home & Life Organization and a small Jewelry Company.  Look for Kelli’s first book of short stories and poems in 2019. You can find her work with The Ugly Writers, Sweatpants & Coffee, Writing In a Woman’s Voice, The Writers Newsletter, Writers Unite!, Academy of the Heart and Mind, The Rye Whiskey Review, Spillwords, Mercurial Stories, 121 Words, Hickory Stump, HerStry, Ariel Chart, The Basil O’Flaherty, PPP Ezine, Southwest Media, Otherwise Engaged, Pleather Skin, Paper.Li, The New Ink Review, among others.                                                                                                                                         

Find Kelli on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram @KelliJGavin

Blog found at kellijgavin.blogspot.com

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6 thoughts on “Volume 1 Issue 34: Dawn

Add yours

  1. Extremely delightful short!
    The grim n grave night scene of the hospital is described as beautifully as is the multi-hued dawn!


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