I will not abandon myself
She drew a line in the sand.
Literally.
The hot limpid wind only blew hotter limpid air around the compound.
The line she drew was to make sure no vampires or demons would cross over pretending to be human.
The line was drawn all the way around the perimeter of the compound, some 10 feet out from the buildings.
She also added salt to each threshold; she hoped this still worked.
Her dirty clothes now hung stiffly from her lean frame. For weeks now, they had gone through the course of wringing wet from perspiration back to a salty stiffness as they dried out through the night. She couldn’t tell any more if she smelled, she couldn’t remember the last time she took a warm towel to her face, patting it with mint soap and rinsing it off with warm water.
She couldn’t remember the last time she immersed her whole body in a tub of water. She couldn’t remember the last time she took a hot shower, washing her long silver hair, thinner now with age and malnutrition.
Hell, she couldn’t remember the last time she felt thoroughly clean.
Did it matter in the long run, she wondered, as she wandered the perimeter making sure there weren’t any breaks in the line in the sand.
Satisfied she was safe for a few hours, she aimed towards the main house, carefully stepping over the salt as she entered the cool room. The scent of boiling pinto beans in bacon grease and green weeds set her saliva running as well as her stomach as each sense converged with the other – smell, hunger, thirst, the need for nourishment.
More so than the need for the touch of another human being.
Looking at the wall to the right of the doorway, was her marker. It had been 261 days since she last saw a human being alive. The last time she touched a human being, the last time she gave warmth and compassion and received love in return.
“I will not abandon myself.” She repeated loudly in the empty room, “I will not abandon myself.”
28 November 2018 — Found Fragment