Katherine Hanna - Breakdown

Ive been waiting to die, but Im not even sick yet. I tell myself I want to die. Whats left to live for? Sophie, my heart, my love, my life, is dead. Rosie, my sweet little baby, my joy, my second love, is gone too. Whats left? A house full of memories.

And a world gone to hell. Whats left to go on for?

Ive gathered all the pills in the house and put them in a plastic bag, but so far I havent taken them. How much worse does it have to get before I can take them? They sit on the counter in the bathroom, with a bottle of water. I look at them each night before I go to bed alone. But I cant take them.

I want to get sick. I want this to be over.

If you find this, if you know me, and you care, and Im dead, can you send it to my brother Jon? Ive taped an envelope with his address inside the front cover. Just tear out the pages with writing and mail them to him. If you can. If theres still mail going overseas. If theres still mail at all.

Jon, I hope you are okay. You and Mum and Kevin. The phones dont work anymore and the electricity is off now. I heard on the news before it went off that Britain was hit hard. Riots in London where Kevin is. I tried to reach him, and you, but I never got through.

I was at the airport when it all started, two days after Christmas, on my way to see you and Mum. There had been some talk of the flu, but they hadnt banned travel yet. We didnt think it would come to much. It was just the flu. How many flu scares have there been that never came to anything?

So Sophie drove me to the airport. We took the baby along. Why not? If shed been older, we all three would have come to visit, of course. I said good-bye to them and got on the plane. I didnt know Id never see my baby again.

The plane didnt take off. The computer problems had started, but they didnt tell us that then. I got a different flight for the next morning. If Id known what was happening, Id have gone home, given up the quick trip to see Mum. The plane actually took off, but then turned around and went back to LaGuardia after two hours. Thats when I knew that things had gone bad and I had to get home, but they wouldnt let us leave the airport.

They held us there for three days. They said wed been exposed. What a nightmare. They kept us in one of the lounges, over a hundred of us. They had police with guns outside the door. They passed out masks for us. The television had CNN on. They were talking about the computer problems and the flu thing getting worse. They didnt know if the cyberattacks were related to each other or not. People getting sick all over the world and staying home, afraid to go out. Everything was shutting down. No one to keep things running. Not enough experts to fix the computers. Bank records wiped out. Military systems in chaos. Telephone networks wrecked. The Internet began to fail. People died by the thousands every day. I watched the world fall apart on CNN. They started calling it the New Plague. Some people said it was deliberate. If someone did this, it must have got out of control, because it seems to have hit every country.

And they said wed been exposed. I thought I would die there in the airport lounge.

Finally they let us go.

That was New Years Eve. Everything had been canceled, of course. Everyone was supposed to stay home. All the buses and trains were stopped. There were no taxis on the streets. Hardly any cars. I had to walk home. No one would give me a ride. Everyone I saw was wearing a mask. There were lines outside the grocery stores. Some places had boarded-up windows. All the restaurants were closed. I couldnt find a place to eat. I got in a line and got a sandwich at a deli, but it cost nearly all the cash I had. There were police with rifles all over the place. I didnt get home by dark, and there was a curfew, so I had to hide out in someones garage or risk getting shot by police.

And then when I got home, Rosie was gone. My poor little baby. They had already taken her away. I never got to hold her one last time. I never got to say good-bye.

Sophie was dying. I got to see her before she died, but she didnt wake up. I sat with her, then got in bed with her and held her while she died. My sweet, darling Sophie. There was nothing I could do. I hope she knew I was there with her at the end.

Sophies friend Elaine had come when Sophie got sick. She tied a black shirt to the front gate when Sophie died, and a truck stopped. Men in biohazard suits took away my Sophie. No funerals. Too many people sick and dying. I think Elaine was sick when she left. I guess shes dead by now.

How could this happen? How could everything go bad so fast? God, I miss them. I find myself planning how to keep warm and eat and wait it out, but then I wonder if I even want to. And then at night, when Im alone in bed, I know I dont want to. Whats to go on with now that my Sophie and Rosie are gone?

In the mornings I eat something and plan out how to get through the day. I think about Archies cabin on the mountain. It must be safer there. I could take all the food and go there. But I dont want to leave the house and all the things that still have Sophies smell. I sleep with one of her sweaters. I sit in the nursery and hold one of Rosies little blankets and rock it like its her. I cant leave them.

I guess theres no chance Ill ever get back to Bath, now. I wonder how it is over there. I wonder if Mum is okay, and Kevin, and you, Jon. God, I hope you are okay.

Last night I dreamed about Brian. Not a good dream; we were screaming at each other, like the last time I saw him. I think about all of the people I left behind in Britain. I guess it will be a long time before I ever find out whats happened to them. Maybe its better if I dont know. Then I can pretend that everyone there is okay.

It was easy to forget, Brian reflected as the bus bumped along bad roads, the hardships and struggles that had brought him to this point. He wondered when he had become happy again. Like a childs growing upsomething that seems impossible to a parent holding a newborn babyhappiness had grown in him, day after day, in unnoticed increments. He glanced down at his son, Ian, dozing against his arm. Fear for his boys futures no longer burned in Brians heart with hot intensity. It had faded to a glowing ember that flared only if he poked at it.

Beyond the dirty window, the morning sun lit a landscape hardly changed by the desperate winter of six years ago. The changes were more visible in the cities, where panic and rioting had left their mark. Brian had managed, with the help of his brother Simon, to keep his own family safehis two boys and his wife, Fiona. Not many of the people he knew could say that.

He sighed and shook Ian gently as the buildings of Bath came into view.

The bus pulled into the station just before eight oclock. Ian shuffled impatiently in the aisle in front of Brian as the other passengers disembarked. Theyd had to sit at the back of the crowded bus, and to an eleven-year-old the wait seemed long. Brian cradled a carton of eggs in one hand and rested the other on his sons shoulder. Ian turned to look at him briefly with his big, dark eyes. A strand of pale hair fell across his forehead, and the boy shook his head a bit to shift it. Brian was struck by the maturity of the look. Since he had started coming into Bath with Brian on market day, Ian had grown more serious, and Brian wasnt sure how he felt about it. He missed the silly laugh that used to bubble out of his son so easily.