Kenopsia - Chapter 39: Chapter 39
You are reading Kenopsia, Chapter 39: Chapter 39. Read more chapters of Kenopsia.
The wet cough haunted my days and nights.
And it all might have been my fault.
I watched how Vic cooed softly to a very sick baby as my mind was spiraling about all the mistakes that were made...
We kept a dead man in the same room as a baby, I kissed a dead man and kissed the baby, my hair had been everywhere without gloves, Vic had touched my father and then Hope, The room wasn't warm enough, she took him outside for a few minutes to help me, we touched the gate that could be covered in cow shit for all we know had been rubbed on it, the baby was in the same room as a dead man and the dead rot, the baby had maybe even been in contact with cloth, pillows, blankets my father touched, even Whiskers might have rubbed up against my father and then touched the baby.
All those thoughts swirled in my mind dangerously as this whole thing could be my mistake and might as well be mine and mine alone.
"I'm going out." I said as she was reading over the backs of kids medicine I hopped over the bridge for, the cough syrup had seemed to been helping so I took extra this time.
"Be careful." I felt guilt punch me as she still worried about me when I have a 50/50 chance of being the cause of this.
I exited the office, making sure to close the door behind me and picked up the possible tainted blankets that are in a big reusable plastic bag.
I carried them to the roof.
The garden windmills and covered batteries were still there but all the movable plants had been looong carried inside the PE room to save them as much as we could, the others just covered in a plastic bash.
I still checked the batteries and cables tape and protecting plastic boxes, not wanting them to leak, it was my father's work.... I can't let it go to waste.... He worked so hard.
After I was satisfied with the cabling I went back to my bag of blankets.
I emptied one of the metal cylindrical bins from the ice in it and the water in it off to the side and frowned heavily, it was on a plaque of ice that caused his death... Life is so unfair...
I dried it with one of the blankets and pushed them all inside the bin, even the plastic bag, it might contain germs and the disinfectant-water holder has water, as the name indicated, cold water on the skin will cause you to get even colder, helping frostbite.... I think at least, from logic...
I pulled off my gloves and threw them on the pile before pulling out a lighter and holding it to a tag on a blanket corner.
It brought an odd calm to see the warm flames dance in the metal bin in the silent world around me.
I stared into the flames tho it made me squint at its brightness.... But it almost felt like.... Home...
The warmth of fire felt like home but also a grim reminder.
These days fire had been my best ally to keep the rot to a minimum... Every time fire was around was to burn away my risks to survival.
And yet it was oddly comforting to me currently, it was something that would never leave me... Never fail me.
Thinking about it, if only we had some dry firewood or firewood in general, we could have made a funeral pyre.... But what's done is done, and I don't think I'd have been able to take it.... Smelling husks burn is on thing, smelling my father burn would be another.
It reminded me of the sizzling of their blood, the popping grease and just.... No, I would never wish it on my father, a watery grave would be enough and the best thing.
I stayed a while longer, watching as the fire sizzled out, the cotton and artificial clothes blankets burn out at a fast rate.
Only when it was simple cinders did I leave.
I sat in my corner, today no one but Whiskers seemed hungry, but even if I was I wouldn't be able to stomach anything.
I got so used to seeing people with me, I grew to drop my guard.... Dammit!
I grabbed my head as the baby coughed, I was so cautious alone! How could I have forgotten that with people around?! I am such a failure.
I glanced over at the couch, face of despair, as despite the syrup working for now this was an uphill battle and we were at the bottom of the Mariana trench with the peek being the Everest's top.
Like how she saw my father would not make it....
I saw how slow death was creeping near to the weakest of us three....
And it all might have been my fault.
I watched how Vic cooed softly to a very sick baby as my mind was spiraling about all the mistakes that were made...
We kept a dead man in the same room as a baby, I kissed a dead man and kissed the baby, my hair had been everywhere without gloves, Vic had touched my father and then Hope, The room wasn't warm enough, she took him outside for a few minutes to help me, we touched the gate that could be covered in cow shit for all we know had been rubbed on it, the baby was in the same room as a dead man and the dead rot, the baby had maybe even been in contact with cloth, pillows, blankets my father touched, even Whiskers might have rubbed up against my father and then touched the baby.
All those thoughts swirled in my mind dangerously as this whole thing could be my mistake and might as well be mine and mine alone.
"I'm going out." I said as she was reading over the backs of kids medicine I hopped over the bridge for, the cough syrup had seemed to been helping so I took extra this time.
"Be careful." I felt guilt punch me as she still worried about me when I have a 50/50 chance of being the cause of this.
I exited the office, making sure to close the door behind me and picked up the possible tainted blankets that are in a big reusable plastic bag.
I carried them to the roof.
The garden windmills and covered batteries were still there but all the movable plants had been looong carried inside the PE room to save them as much as we could, the others just covered in a plastic bash.
I still checked the batteries and cables tape and protecting plastic boxes, not wanting them to leak, it was my father's work.... I can't let it go to waste.... He worked so hard.
After I was satisfied with the cabling I went back to my bag of blankets.
I emptied one of the metal cylindrical bins from the ice in it and the water in it off to the side and frowned heavily, it was on a plaque of ice that caused his death... Life is so unfair...
I dried it with one of the blankets and pushed them all inside the bin, even the plastic bag, it might contain germs and the disinfectant-water holder has water, as the name indicated, cold water on the skin will cause you to get even colder, helping frostbite.... I think at least, from logic...
I pulled off my gloves and threw them on the pile before pulling out a lighter and holding it to a tag on a blanket corner.
It brought an odd calm to see the warm flames dance in the metal bin in the silent world around me.
I stared into the flames tho it made me squint at its brightness.... But it almost felt like.... Home...
The warmth of fire felt like home but also a grim reminder.
These days fire had been my best ally to keep the rot to a minimum... Every time fire was around was to burn away my risks to survival.
And yet it was oddly comforting to me currently, it was something that would never leave me... Never fail me.
Thinking about it, if only we had some dry firewood or firewood in general, we could have made a funeral pyre.... But what's done is done, and I don't think I'd have been able to take it.... Smelling husks burn is on thing, smelling my father burn would be another.
It reminded me of the sizzling of their blood, the popping grease and just.... No, I would never wish it on my father, a watery grave would be enough and the best thing.
I stayed a while longer, watching as the fire sizzled out, the cotton and artificial clothes blankets burn out at a fast rate.
Only when it was simple cinders did I leave.
I sat in my corner, today no one but Whiskers seemed hungry, but even if I was I wouldn't be able to stomach anything.
I got so used to seeing people with me, I grew to drop my guard.... Dammit!
I grabbed my head as the baby coughed, I was so cautious alone! How could I have forgotten that with people around?! I am such a failure.
I glanced over at the couch, face of despair, as despite the syrup working for now this was an uphill battle and we were at the bottom of the Mariana trench with the peek being the Everest's top.
Like how she saw my father would not make it....
I saw how slow death was creeping near to the weakest of us three....
End of Kenopsia Chapter 39. Continue reading Chapter 40 or return to Kenopsia book page.