An Ode To The Past.

No one remembers what happened that fateful day. The Earth seemed to fall into a silence that would shake even the strongest of hearts. I was a lucky one, given fair warning about the global catastrophes that would befall all of humanity. Me and so many others were given the chance to recreate the Earth, better, stronger, than the one that was to be washed away. A clean slate if you would. And we bunkered down, safe with the knowledge that although so many would die, we, the chosen, would continue to lead humanity into a glorious future. A new dawn, a better day. At least, that was the dream. And just like any dream, it too was fictitious. It started well, the concrete haven protected us from the storms, and the screams. We counted down the hours, the minutes, the seconds, until we could emerge and start planting the seed of rebirth. This was the most difficult task. Not the planning or rebuilding, or the hiding from those who needed a safe space from the apocalypse. No, it was the waiting, the time we had to ourselves. Of course anyone would kill for time alone, burying themselves in the safety of homes and just live out the day like you’re the only one in the world. That is what we used to look forward to, but when it became reality, it was too difficult to be left alone with your thoughts. Friends, family, pets. They say when you die your memories flash before your eyes. This is true when you’re alone. And unlike death, there is no sweet embrace, no end. Just you and your thoughts. That is until the day came, the day it was safe to survey what damage was done to mother Earth. The day when all pressure was on you to do what was right. It was easy, the hard part was trying to forget the past.

It started well. Picking through the ruins of the past, trying to find the spot where humanity might once again regain it’s top spot in the pecking order. We knew what we had to do, what our tasks were. Spread out across the world, maybe twenty in total, knowing we all exist but out of reach. I didn’t want to know them, I didn’t want the attachments again. They were clear, we were the last hope for life as we know it. We had food, clean water, medicines and building materials. We had everything anybody needed, enough for two, maybe even three lifetimes. This seemed a waste as there was only one life. And then just as quickly as the end of the world, they came. I thought to myself I might be the unlucky one, that I was the only one they preyed upon. I could never know. I started seeing them, lurking in the shadows, or outside my eye line. They just watched me, crouching like a cobra. Unlike a cobra however, they fled as soon as I got close. They would leave me alone, so I returned the favour. I never got a good look at one of these... these things before, never wanted to. That was until today. My daily routine never changed, scavenging for the past, looking for anything that we accomplished was worth preserving. After all we did to our home, I never held out hope. And it was then I heard what sounded like a wounded animal. I had not seen another living creature for, god knows how long. My heart thumped in my chest, breath caught in my throat. Had there been survivors? Of any kind? And that’s when my last grain of happiness, of hope, dwindled into the hourglass of despair. It wasn’t an animal, at least not one that I knew. It was one of the creatures that had been stalking me. It had got itself tangled up In barbed wire, blood oozing from the crack rotten flesh. The stench, even from a distance, was enough for you to wish you had died that fateful day. I sank to my knees, stomach churning. I did what I hadn’t done in years. I turned my head and vomited. It

wasn’t pleasant, the whole situation, and I wish that I took that howling as a warning rather than a beacon of something good. It saw me, at my weakest. It let out a long pitiful drone, looking at me, hoping for empathy. At least that’s what I thought, to this day I have no idea if these things could feel anything. I felt guilt well up inside of me, a feeling I thought I had long since buried. I knew what I had to do, put this poor being out of its misery. I never had a weapon, never thought I would need it. But the ruins always provide, and I managed to find a broken piece of pipe. It was sharp, sharp enough to do what needed to be done. “I’m sorry” were the first words I had spoken out loud since the day it all ended. I wanted it to know I was helping, maybe bring comfort to it. Or perhaps it was to bring comfort to myself. I edged my way closer to the hapless creature and that’s when I saw the shine. It was something I had hoped that I would never see again, something from my past, unpleasant. I prayed to a god that I didn’t believe in that it wasn’t what I thought it was. Hoping it was a flake of metal, or perhaps barbed wire. However my knees buckled as I inched closer as it was what I feared. The Heart Shaped Locket that I had brought her so long ago. It’s hinge was long rusted shut, but the shine never faded. Tears began to well up inside, that was quickly disposed of for rage. “You’re dead!” I shouted at the creature “I killed you, all that time ago”. The memories of the dead rushed from the deepest depths of my memory. I threw the pipe against the wall, punched the ground. I had suffered through the pain, I had served my time. What had I done to deserve this? Was I more angry at the universeres cruel tricks or at myself. After all I could have saved her, I could have saved many. But I had orders and I followed them like a good soldier. Maybe I was dead, died along with everyone else that horrid day. Yes, I had convinced myself that this wasn’t real and was just my punishment for being a bad person. Perhaps I had survived but quickly perished, and this was my torment, my resting place. Doomed to relive all those that I had wronged. I laughed, a hoarse dry laugh at the irony. I survived just to be tortured. The creature had become silent in my rage, judging me. Well you know what they say, in for a penny…..