- Not everyone takes the apocalypse quite well.

  - Always listen. But make sure that you take everything with a grain of salt.

  - Don’t get yourself taken advantage of.

  ---

  Alex didn’t talk much the first few days. Just one-word replies, polite nods, occasional sighs like the world had just insulted her sandwich.

  I didn’t press.

  We shared food. Did chores. Cleaned up the place. Built a system where we’d take shifts watching the streets from the second floor—her idea. Engineer brain and all.

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  It wasn’t until I passed her a half-empty can of peaches that she told me. Flat tone, eyes focused on the label like it held the whole story.

  She came to visit her family. The power went out. Then came the screams.

  She ran.

  She ran fast, barefoot, until she found the bookstore, barricaded it, and waited. Five months of waiting. Five months of eating canned ravioli, rice crackers, and peanut butter that expired in 2018.

  The food ran out two weeks ago. She stayed anyway. Figured if she left, she’d die. If she stayed, she’d still die, but in her words: “At least I’d die feeling myself. Complete.”

  That last part made me shut up. Completely.

  I know pain when I hear it, and Alex had a symphony.

  We didn’t do hugs. Not yet. But I left her the last protein bar in my bag. She said nothing. Just tucked it into her pocket and wiped her eyes with her sleeve like it was a sneeze.

  I learned something then: Listening helps people heal. Just don’t let it blind you. We’re all broken. But broken people can still lie, manipulate, or lash out.

  So listen, yeah.

  But don’t be stupid about it.