I knew what I did. There was no other choice. They had to survive. They were so few, and there was no haven close. But they had to survive. In doing what I did, I knew that I would now surely die.
The pen slipped from my fingers. The paper was left unfinished. I wanted to write, finish the equation, but my body failed me. I was tired, and she begged me not to sleep. It was done, though. My mission was done, so why should I fight this fatigue that overtakes me now? I closed my eyes.
It was years later. I was sitting among them. They had survived, and I stood up, ready to tell them that it was because of me. They did not know who I was. They called me, Ginger after that long ago television show, where the Minnow was lost, but they were not. And I begged them to remember me. I saved them. I chose them over me, and then I realized that this was nothing but a dream.
I was lying still. She cried beside me. The pen rested between numb fingers. The paper waited for ink to be spilled. My mind was quiet, but my mind was far from done, she said. I was done. In doing what I did, I knew now that I would surely die. In doing what I did, I knew that they would survive. I just hope that they remember me after I am gone.