Page 40

Story: Wreckage

Adrian

D ay four.

No Troy. No rescue. No hope.

The air inside the wreckage felt thicker than before, heavy with death, regret, and the weight of what was coming.

The silence was the worst part. Elena didn’t speak anymore. She didn’t cry, didn’t fight, didn’t even flinch when I touched her. She’d stopped eating after Troy left and stopped drinking only two days ago.

She was just…gone. She was leaving me.

She let me hold her now. Let me whisper words of love, apology, and desperate longing against her skin.

But she never responded. Never moved.

The only thing that told me she was still alive was the faint rise and fall of her chest. But even that was slower than it should have been.

I tried to make her eat. Tried to force water between her lips. But she only swallowed because she had to, not because she wanted to.

She was fading. She was dying, just like she wanted.

And by tomorrow, I would fade with her. I wouldn’t fucking let her leave without me.

I held her in my arms, tucking her against my chest, pressing my lips into her hair, inhaling the faintest remnants of her scent. It barely lingered, but it was all I needed.

“Elena,” I whispered.

No response. Just that empty, hollow stare.

“You remind me of a butterfly,” I murmured, tracing slow patterns down her cold arms.

Nothing.

I swallowed against the ache in my throat, pushing forward.

“When you dance, you look so free,” I whispered, my lips brushing her temple. “So…beautiful.”

I choked on the word, my eyes burning because she wasn’t that anymore. Now, she was a broken-winged butterfly trapped in an endless winter, unable to escape the frozen hell we were in.

“I used to watch you,” I admitted. “More than I should have. More than I had the right to. I used to wonder what you were thinking. If you ever saw me at all.”

A tear slipped down my cheek, landing on her pale face. Still, she didn’t move. Didn’t blink. Didn’t breathe any deeper.

I exhaled shakily.

“I wish I had told you sooner.”

Nothing. She was already halfway gone. I hoped we died together so she wasn’t scared and alone when it happened.

Hours later, I looked at the pill bottle, rolling it between my fingers. Tomorrow, I would mix them with water. She wouldn’t feel a thing. I’d force it to her lips like I’d been doing with water since she’d gone catatonic on me .

Neither of us would feel a thing. We’d…slip away. Together.

But tonight?—

Tonight, she was still here.

And I wanted to remember her even if she wasn’t here anymore. Even if it was just her body left behind.

I kissed her. She didn’t react. Didn’t move. She didn’t do anything but let me take what I needed from her one last time.

Carefully, I undressed her, taking in how prominent her bones were. I spread her legs, tears streaming down my cheeks. I knew I was a fucking monster. I’d established that much a long time ago.

I pushed gently into her body, sobbing as I did so. Her name fell like a prayer from my lips as I fucked her gently, her tiny body jostling with each thrust. I was careful. I didn’t want to hurt her more than I already had.

Tears slipped down her motionless cheeks, the only sign she was still in there somewhere.

I came with a sob, filling her pussy one last time before I kissed her again.

“I love you, Elena. I love you so fucking much. Tomorrow will be better. I promise, baby. We can go to sleep, and everything will be better. Together. We’ll go together.” I sniffled and cradled her cheek. “I’ll go with you so you’re not scared and alone.” I held and kissed her for another long moment before I withdrew from her body.

I cleaned, dressed, and brushed my lips across her lips before slipping my clothes back on.

Then I sat down, took out a piece of paper, and wrote the last words I would ever leave behind.

To Whoever Finds Our Bodies,

I don’t know why I’m writing this. Maybe I feel like I need to have last words or something. I want to go out having said what I feel for a change. So here it is. Troy was the best brother a guy could have. I love Elena with every fiber of my being. We tried so hard to make it. If I ever hurt anyone, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I never got to tell them in person. To my dad, if you ever see this, I love you. I was proud to be your son. To my mom, I wish I could see you again so we could make things right. I wish I had more time, but I don’t. Just know we tried. To Dean’s entire family, I’m so fucking sorry. May I be punished for my sins. I only wanted us to survive.

-Adrian

I set the letter on the chair, my hands shaking as I stepped away.

I dragged everything left that could burn—every piece of wood, scrap of extra clothing, or anything that might catch a flame—outside.

I built the biggest fire I could manage.

And then, I watched it burn.

The flames came to life in the night sky, licking it tenderly. It was my final shot. It was like Troy’s old Hail Mary passes on the football field. He’d throw the damn ball down the field and had never failed when he did it. He always got that touchdown.

I smiled, imagining him throwing one final pass and hoping that someone—anyone—would catch it.

I turned away from the fire and walked back inside.

I curled up beside Elena. Her breathing had grown more shallow. She may be gone before the morning. If she was, the plan stood the same. I’d follow her.

I kissed her cool forehead, whispering the only thing I had left inside me.

“I love you, butterfly. I wish I’d gotten the chance to show you just how much.”

I held her close and closed my eyes. If this was the end, I accepted it. I had no more fight left in me. If this was my last night on Earth, I couldn’t imagine it without her, even if she did hate me.

The door crashed open.

I jerked upright, eyes burning, vision blurring from days of hunger and exhaustion.

Voices shouted. Boots pounded against the metal floor. A hand landed on my shoulder as I tried to understand the commotion.

“Adrian.”

I flinched.

“We’re here to help, OK?”

I blinked, confused.

Not real. This wasn’t real. I was dreaming. Hell, maybe I was already dead, and this was the welcome party on the other side.

The voice spoke again. “Smart thing, building that fire for us.”

I gasped, my throat tightening. I tried to focus and make sense of what was happening. “W-What?”

“We have Troy. Now we need to get you guys to safety,” another voice called out.

My heart stopped.

Troy.

TROY.

I let out a broken, wrecked sob, my body collapsing in on itself.

Troy was alive. His Hail Mary had worked.

It always worked.

I turned to Elena, my hands gripping her weakly, shaking her, begging her to wake up, to open her eyes, to just breathe.

“She—she’s not—” I choked, barely able to speak through my tears.

Someone knelt beside me, checking her pulse, pressing fingers against her too-cold skin.

“She’s still here,” they assured me. “We need to move now if we want to keep her alive.”

Still here.

I let out a gasping sob, my body shaking violently, my hands still gripping her weakly.

Someone tried to lift me, but my legs gave out.

“Let her go, Adrian. We need to hurry. A storm is coming in, and she needs help. We got her. ”

I let my hand slip away from hers, the hollow feeling making me feel like I was dying inside.

Please, Elena…

I hit the floor hard, but strong arms caught me before I completely face-planted, holding me up as I sagged against them.

They carried me out. I heard shouting, more movement, more chaos. I could barely see through my tears, barely focus on anything but Elena, Elena, Elena—my sweet butterfly.

Fuck, please, save her.

They kept promising me she was OK and that she was alive. That they were getting her out.

And then, a helicopter.

The sound roared around us, the wind whipping through the trees, snow kicking up in all directions like it was creating its own storm.

I was loaded inside, my vision dancing with exhaustion and hunger. The pain in my guts and body was unbearable, and I let out a cry.

“Easy, we got you,” someone said, easing me back onto a stretcher and strapping me in. The needle pinch met my arm, and then a warm rush of fluids, the strange metal taste hitting my tongue.

I saw them lift Elena onto the stretcher. I saw her pale face, her limp body, her chest barely moving with breath.

I sobbed again.

“Elena…butterfly. Please. Stay. Stay, Elena. W-We’re going home, baby. Please…"

We lifted into the air suddenly, the sounds of people still working quickly around us in the cramped space. I couldn’t see Elena now, but I could hear the soft beeping of a monitor.

The wreckage grew smaller below us, disappearing into the trees.

And I knew?—

We made it.

We were finally going home.