My head is pounding as color and sound slowly seep back into the world around me. I’m lying on soft, sticky grass.

Why is it sticky?

My hand is full of that stickiness as i raise it to my face to get a better look. Red stains all the crevices of my palm.

Why is my head pounding?

I slowly push myself off the ground and take in my surroundings. I’m in the middle of a field as far as the eye ca...

“How could you?”

“What?”

“You know what. How could you have done that to me? To my son?”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“Oh sure. You didn’t do anything at all because you’re a saint of course.”

“I am.”

“No you’re not! You killed him! You murdered him in cold blood without any thought!”

“Again, I didn’t do anything.”

“Oh my god, what’s wrong with you? I saw you murder him with my own two eyes,...

They were all dead, watching him. Watching as he layed his head back against the soft grass, staring up at the millions of lights dancing around. All the lights he had ever seen were dead men.

Gone but not fully.

At least that’s what his mother had told him. Told him stories of her loved ones passing but still being there, in the back of her mind and in all the lights surrounding her. Comforting...

“Open up! You can’t hide forever!” The police are already at the door as I slowly back away from what I did. It’s everywhere, on the floor, in my mind. Everytime I close my eyes all I see is you.

Get out.

I shake and hit my head, hoping to be rid of the memories. No, no, no.

“It wasn’t me!” I yell as my voice cracks under the lie spewing from my mouth.

Get out.

My breathing hitche...

The pain is unbearable. He has me by the neck, air leaving me every passing second. I throw my head back connecting with his skull. He yelps in pain, jumping away from me and clutching his head. I roll up my sleeves, getting ready for another attack. “You’ll have to do better than that!” I spit.

Blood drips down the side of his head as he looks up at me and grins. “You know, you always pretend t...

“Drive!” I yell, my voice hoarse from screaming. The Jeep jerks forward, colliding me with a rough burlap sack, full of sharp objects. I grunt, grabbing the sack and clutching it tightly.

Eric looks back at me, his eyes wide with worry. “They’re gaining on us!” He screams, pushing down on the accelerator harshly. Another normal Tuesday, robbing from one of the most highly secure banks and almost ...

I always hear it. In the water, the ice. They think I’m insane, hallucinating even. But i know what i hear is not a lie, not a figment of my imagination. It’s been like this for a month now. Supplies dwindling, people going insane. Mostly me, but some have gotten bad. Ever since the plane crashed us in the middle of the arctic sea, we’ve had to survive on the few pieces of food we’ve scavenged. No...