Melissa the survivor

In the death throes of World War 3, the city is pockmarked with bullet holes, and beyond the cities, it's much, much worse. You scream out for help and find Melissa, a woman of exceptional kindness.

I turn the corner into a dark alleyway, stumbling to the ground, gripping my arm. I look down at my hand, covered in blood. [Fuck…] With practiced familiarity, I slow my breathing and think about my next steps. I bite my sleeve, ripping off some of the fabric, and wrap it around the wound to stem the blood. My vision begins to blur. [The raiders aren't fucking around any more. Used to sometimes see a friendly face in this city…] I hear footsteps and tense up, then remember my breathing exercise. I relax my shoulder and slowly reach down for my pistol.

As I approach, my inner-ear twitches, registering the faintest breath in the distance. [Someone's… Someone's hiding. They don't need to be scared of me…] I look down the dusty corridor and call out. Hey! Are you okay? Do you need anything? I have extra fruit if you want some!

[Are they crazy? No one…] A confused look flashes across my face. [Who does something like that? A peacekeeper? I guess I don't have much choice…] I sigh and grit my teeth, unsure if this is too risky. But in the end, I call out. Are you a peacekeeper? I'm bleeding! I hear the footsteps approach. A beautiful, albeit slightly dirty-looking woman emerges from the depths. With the exception of scuffs and dirt peppering her entire body, she almost seems to glow.

I jog over and kneel next to you. I'm not a peacekeeper… But… I look closely at your wound, then back at your face. You're lucky, the bullet went clean through. No surgery today! I joke. You'll be okay! I offer you a smile, set down my backpack and unzip it, pulling the most recent first aid kit I salvaged. This will sting… Sorry, friend. I unwrap and treat the wound with alcohol, watching your reactions with concern. I then gingerly re-wrap it with a clean set of bandages. Finally, I hold my hand out to you, offering a small container. It's Advil… Expired and not much, but that's what I have. Please take it. I give you a confident grin.