“Are you mad, Sarah?” Clara asked as she handed me another book. “That is the most unromantic thing I’ve ever heard in my life. I didn’t expect that even from you.”

“I can’t say I’m surprised, but still, I don’t think you should do it like this.” Emma agreed with her from behind the desk. 

“What? Why?” I shoved the book in my hand on the shelf and took the next one from Clara. 

“Proposals are intimate, special; they are moments you’ll think and talk about for the rest of your lives. Do you really want that to be your story?” 

“What’s wrong with it?” I mumbled under my breath.

“Oh my god, you’re hopeless.” Clara took me by the hand and sat on the ground. “This is what you’re gonna do. You’re gonna plan a nice trip, maybe a little weekend away, doesn’t matter how long. Somewhere that she always wanted to go.”

“With nice scenery. A waterfall, maybe!” Emma added excitedly. 

“A waterfall?” I looked at her with an open mouth.

“You take her out for a nice, romantic dinner, under the moon and the stars, and-”

“Can I see the ring?” Emma interrupted Clara.

“Like this, you can even enjoy a mini honeymoon right after.” Clara patted my hand.

“But…” I dropped my head. “What if she says no?”

“Are you kidding me?” Clara flipped her long hair back. “Have you seen how she looks at you?”

“She’ll say yes.” Emma agreed.

I touched the ring box in my pocket. “So I don’t do it today?” 

“Not like you had planned, at least, god.” Clara rolled her eyes. “Come on, there’s still a lot to do before we can clock out. I can’t wait for the weekend.”

The whole day at work, and on my way home, the ring box felt heavy in my pocket. Part of me wanted to propose today because I was so excited, but part of me wanted to do it so I could just get it over with, know the answer already. It felt like a pending doom, swirling on top of my head like an angry cloud, threatening to strike me with lightning any second.

She was still stuck at work for a few more hours, which gave me enough time to cook her favorite meal (marry-me chicken, pun definitely intended) for our anniversary. I also baked her a chocolate cake with sour cherry jam, and just as I lit the candles on the table, I heard her key turning in the lock.

“Hey, cutie!” She dropped her bag in the entry and rushed in to kiss me. Her long blonde hair smelled like vanilla. “Happy anniversary!” She whispered in my ear and handed me a bouquet of white lilies. My favorite flower.

At dinner, I couldn’t understand a word she was saying. Not because I didn’t care, but because my brain was so loud, and the ring was burning a hole in my pocket, and because Harriet was so god damn gorgeous.

When she was telling me how her students were trying to prank her in class, and she threw her head back laughing, I couldn’t stop myself. Screw Clara and Emma, I thought. I slid my hand in my pocket and took out the burning jewelry box.

“Harriet, I…” I took her hand in mine. Her hazel eyes, with the candlelight dancing in them, were the most beautiful things I had ever seen. I couldn’t help myself. I pulled her in and kissed her soft lips. She tasted like sugar and childhood dreams. “Will you marry me?” 

Her eyes widened, and her lips curled up. But she never got to answer my question, and that’s the worst part. It would have been better if she had just refused. If she had just thrown the ring at me and left. At least I would have known where she was, that she was safe.

It has been days, weeks, maybe months since the night I proposed to her; I’m not sure. Time doesn’t exist for me anymore; nothing does. I don’t know what happened to Harriet. All I know is that she just vanished that night. Turned into dust, smoke, memories, whispers.

It’s hard to describe something you don’t understand. After I proposed, there was a loud, crashing sound, but it didn’t come from outside; it came from… everywhere, from inside my head. And then it was like the sky fell down on top of Harriet and swallowed her whole. All I’ve been doing ever since is looking for her, but I don’t even know where to look, what to look for. All I know is that she's alive, because I can still hear her, in my head, whispering to me, keeping me alive, forcing me to live.

After that night, the world changed. Turns out it wasn’t only Harriet who ‘went missing’, a lot of other people did, too. Systems shut down, the government fell apart, and those of us who are still here are being hunted down by demons.

I never believed in them the way religious people do. But maybe I should have. 

The first few times I saw a corpse, dismantled beyond recognition, I almost went mad. “No human, no animal is ever capable of doing that to someone”, I thought to myself, and I was right. It was the work of demons. I saw one once. And Harriet screamed in my head to run away, to stay alive.

Run, Sarah.

Hide, Sarah.

Be quiet, be still, be invisible.

Live, Sarah.

“But I’m tired.” I plead. “I can’t, I don’t want to go on like this.” There’s no hope left for me, no light exists at the end of it all, nothing does. A tear escapes my right eye, and I hug my knees tighter to my chest in my hiding spot.

There’s a demon in the room, hunched over a little boy, ripping his stomach apart and munching on his guts. His slick, wet grey skin looks like leather. His limbs are too long and slender to be practical, his nails too long to do anything other than tear. 

“I can’t do this without you anymore, Harriet.” 

No, Sarah, please. Stay where you are! Hide!

I open the door of the closet. It creaks, but the demon is too occupied by its fresh meal to notice. I walk out and take a few steps toward it.

Sarah, please, I’m begging you!

I kneel down behind the swarming pile of decaying flesh, and it turns around. It doesn’t have a face. Just a gash for a mouth, with razor-sharp needles for teeth.

Run, Sarah, run!

I open my arms. “Make it quick.”