Apocalypse—Bonds of Abundance

The extreme cold gnawed at Williams' bones, sipping through his bare skin as though his flesh were nothing more than a thin old paper.

His lips were almost numb, his fingers stiff, and his breath coming out in uneven bursts. Standing in the living room barefoot, he was shaking so violently he could barely stay upright.

"Mom," he called in a cracked voice. "Please. Just...just a jacket, ma. Anything. I'm–I'm freezing."

Dora his mother didn't even spare him a glance.

She was kneeling by the sofa, wrapping a third layer of cloth around William's brother–Frederick, with deliberate care. Her movements were calm and almost reverent, as though Williams' pleas for help were nothing other than background noise.

Frederick lay there pale and trembling, his eyes half-lidded, and his breaths shallow. Hypothermia had already sunk its unforgiving claws into him.

"M-mother," Williams shivered. "Please–help me."

Dora turned just then, her eyes burning with irritation and disdain. "Are you serious right now?" she snapped. "If you're going to compete for attention, at least pick the right moment."

Williams could only stare at her, disbelief hollowing out his chest.

"Do you even realize your brother could die?" Dora continued in a voice sharp like broken glass. "Or is this just another one of your silly performances?"

"I'm not competing," Williams whispered, shutting his eyes as pain due to the cold slipped into his blood. "I–I just...please, mother. Help me."

"Enough of that." Dora stood up. "I've tolerated your selfishness for years. Perhaps it's time you learned something new."

With that, she reached for the door.

Williams felt a sudden panic slam onto him." Mom, wait. It's way below zero outside. You can't–"

The door flew open in no time, and a wall of white wind howled into the house, swallowing his words entirely.

Dora grabbed him by the arm and shoved him forward with great strength. Still shivering, he stumbled barefoot on ice, his back hitting the snow hard enough to roughly knock out breath from his lungs.

He heard the door slam shut on his face.

Inside, Frederick struggled upright, his face still drained of colour, but his eyes quite clear enough to follow what had just happened. He frowned, more thoughtful than distressed.

"Mom," he said quietly. "Just a night out there would make him know his place in life. But he'll be back calmer. After all, he's still my brother."

Dora gently brushed Frederick's hair back. "Don't waste your thoughts on that boy. He's not worth it."

---------------

Outside, Williams lay half-dead in the snow. The world was completely still, save for the wind. The night's despair crushed him completely.

The much talked about extreme cold apocalypse was already near. Adverse climate change, as the scientists termed it.

Several countries of the world had been wiped out, and supplies were vanishing. People had already started turning on each other for warmth and food.

Earlier that day, he and Frederick had gone out together to search for supplies. They had returned completely exhausted, frostbitten, and barely conscious.

And when they came home, his family had stripped Williams of every layer he wore–the coat, sweater, and even his gloves. Then they piled them onto Frederick.

At the time, he only shrugged, telling himself that it was necessary.

But now, staring at the merciless sky, Williams fully understood the truth.

He was disposable.

His thoughts slowed, freezing along with his blood. Then his vision blurred, and somewhere between pain and numbness, bitterness slowly sipped in.

He could feel the claws of death already, and he knew he'd be a forgotten matter very soon.

If I could live again, he thought faintly, I would make every one of you regret this.

Then, the darkness of death consumed him.

---------------

"Williams!"

Williams jolted upright, gasping normally. Warm air filled his lungs.

Sunlight spilled through half-open curtains, dust motes drifting lazily in its glow. The familiar creak of his old bed frame grounded him in a way the cold never had.

His bedroom.

He stared at his hands. They were steady and whole, evidence that he was alive.

Alive?

The date of that very day instantly burned into his vision. It marked exactly half a month to the apocalypse.

For a long moment, Williams didn't move. He only listened to his breathing and felt the warmth of the room. Confusion soon flickered, then settled into something sharper and clearer.

Rebirth.

The word was the perfect fit. He wasn't able to deny it. And to make it all better, he had his memory intact, and he knew all that was going to happen before the apocalypse.

His mother hadn't kicked him into the freezing cold yet. That was going to happen a long time after.

A bitter laugh was the only way he could express his shock. And when it faded, calculation took over.

He could use the time to make money fast. Then stockpile supplies and secure a shelter that wouldn't collapse under future desperation and cold.

But before any of that, one thing was sure–he would cut ties.

Williams had been adopted by the Amante family as a child, and for a few short years, there had been warmth and lots of love. He was offered the illusion of belonging.

Then medical technology advanced, and Frederick was born. He was the child they never thought they'd have. From that moment on, Williams was forced to understand his place.

He became the substitute and place holder–a mistake the Amantes never managed to get rid off.

Of course he had tried to win back their love through patience and sacrifice. He had swallowed every slight and comparison, hoping that things would somehow get back to normal.

Until the night he had met his death–the night when the woman he called mother threw him out to perish.

A knock sounded at the door, interrupting his thoughts.

"Williams," Dora's voice called again. "Come out."

She paused, then added. "There's something you need to know."

Just at that moment, he had a powerful premonition. In it, he witnessed everything that was going to happen if he followed his mother's call.

Smiling, he stood up and walked to the door. Then he opened it.

"Come with me," she said without even looking at his face.

He did as instructed, and she led him to the living room.

There, Williams saw Frederick standing, his arm around a woman he instantly recognized.

Vera– his girlfriend, a woman he'd gone at length to satisfy. She looked comfortable around Frederick, wearing a smile as she stared into Williams' eyes.

"Williams," Dora began, her eyes fixed on him. "Vera happens to have fallen in love with Frederick. And she loves him dearly now, more than she ever loved you. This doesn't hurt you, does it? He's your brother, after all, and his happiness should be yours too."

William said nothing. He was deep in thought already, his eyes fixed on Vera.

In the premonition, he had reacted in great surprise as he saw her with his brother. He had even gone on his knees, desperately pleading with her not to leave him for Frederick.

But she had joined his family in mocking and calling him all manner of disdainful names.

"Williams?" Dora suddenly called, snapping him back to reality. "What do you say about this?"

Now that he knew better, Williams only smiled and dipped his hands into his trouser pockets.

Then he turned to Dora. "It's fine, really."

He paused, watching the great surprise in their faces. Then he cleared his throat and continued. "Really, it is. And I must use this medium to announce to you all that I wish to legally terminate my relationship with the Amante family."

Everyone was completely stunned on hearing this.

"What?!"