You'd been hurting for a long time. 

They disappeared three years ago.

But you'd been hurting for a long time.

The world tried to move on after everyone turned to dust. Six months after the end of the world, New York tried. Mayors claimed that things could be fixed, the president made statements, people assured whoever was left that things would be okay. They always mentioned how the city (and the United States as a whole) had been attacked before, but prevailed.

So with that, schools opened back up. People got their jobs back. Stores and factories and homes were rebuilt. Families put missing persons posters up on every window, wall, and streetlight in the city. But things weren't able to rebuild. Not all the way.

Children were orphans. Foster homes were full. Businesses went under because their workers were dead and gone. People gave up because they were living in a world where there was nothing but hurt.

And you were alone.

No family, no friends. No one.

You walked to school alone. You sat at lunch alone. In class alone. Lived in your home alone. Went to work alone. You didn't bother keeping your cellphone; there was no one left that cared about you. You were forced to take the weight of the world. You were the adult of the house while you were still a child. 

Nineteen, and all alone.

Nineteen, and no one cared about you.

Before the end of the world, you at least had a couple of people. But now it was nobody. It was scary, it was dark, and you were sad. You were so sad. Broken. Lost.

After your last class you went outside to sit on a bench. It was raining, and you didn't have the money to take the bus. The subway was further away than your home. You sat outside, where the roof hung over the bench. You hugged your backpack against you and stared at the street, where the potholes filled with rainwater.

Someone sat down next to you. Without turning your head, you glanced at him. It was a boy who looked your age.

He looked just as unhappy as you.

Then again - who wasn't unhappy? Things had changed forever that day half the world's population turned to dust. People were traumatized. You had watched your own family disappear right in front of you. Other people had it worse, you were sure. You couldn't imagine the feeling of a mother holding her children and feeling them vanish underneath her arms.

The boy turned on his phone screen to check the time. You glanced at it, too. Not like you had anything planned - you just wanted to check. 

The boy's lock screen was of him and another guy. They looked like best friends, both taking a selfie at a ridiculous angle. You wondered if he lost him when it all happened.

He unlocked his phone and then dialed some numbers. He held the phone up to his left ear. You could hear the voice that answered after one dial.

Hey, this is Peter. I'm not able to get to my phone right now, but I'll make sure to get back to you as soon as possible. Later!

He hung up the phone without leaving a message. He didn't look disappointed, he looked relieved. Like all he wanted to do was hear that voice. You did that with your old best friend, too. You called her just to hear her voice. Sometimes, if you didn't work or go to school that day, that was the only time you'd hear a voice.

"Do you remember when everything was normal? When no one was suffering or hurting?" the boy next to you asked, like you knew him.

"No," you said. Some of the rain was dripping off of the awning and plopping on your face. "I can't remember anything that far away."

He paused for a long moment. "Me neither."

"I've been hurting for a long time," you admitted aloud for the first time. "Since before the end of the world."

"Yeah? Me too."

You breathed, "So I'm not alone."

"No," he said, "I guess not." Then he looked at you for the first time. "I'm Ned."