I wish this story had a happier ending. I wish I was writing this knowing there would be people to read it, that somehow my words would get through this barren wasteland and be found by somebody… anybody.
But I know that isn’t going to happen. Not anymore. I’m lost forever, I think.
My car broke down as I was heading out of Milperra. That’s all it took for my life to change so abruptly, whisked away from reality and into the aching hell-scape of survival where I now find myself. It began like any other trip – ignition, start, reverse, accelerate – but it wasn’t long before I was out of the reaches of the town, and my engine choked to death in the ashen mist.
I know, I should have taken it to a decent mechanic around Milperra. Of course I know that – it’s the number one rule. But I got careless. Lazy. Sloppy.
And damned unlucky.
I don’t know where I am, how far I flew before I plummeted into this new world of mine. So filled with dread and fear… I don’t think I’ll ever see them again. Not in this lifetime at least.
Occasionally, I think I hear something out there – out in the fog. I don’t believe the stories, of course… at least, not while I’m safely behind the walls of Milperra, I don’t. Out here, in the grey, the ghost stories seem much more believable.
I turn on my headlights. They, at least, still work miraculously well, no doubt because before I managed to track down an auto electrician. Near me I can see what looks like a shape in the mist – a hulking grey slab of something. A wall, perhaps.
Something rustles behind my back window, and I turn quickly to catch sight of it. Nothing is moving by the time my eyes have whipped around. I sigh and look back out the windshield.
The grey wall is gone – just an empty, swirling pocket of mist left in its place.