Hope After The Fall

The fall of humanity. Before you rush to any drastic conclusions,  it wasn't zombies or any man made war virus; it was simply greed. That all it came down to. Man kind drove the earth into nothing; depleting the natural resources so fast, that the earth had no time to replenish itself. Very few trees remain, so the air quality is very poor. Water is scarce, so being able to conserve what little there is has become the most important survival skill. My name is Emily Meyers, and I am one of the last known human survivors of the apocalypse.

It has been roughly 5 years since the fall. Almost no one survived. I was on my own, I had been for about 2 years. Surviving was hard enough, but surviving alone was extremely difficult. There was no one around to take care of me when I couldn't. Thankfully, I'd only been sick for a day or so at a time. Finding the energy and will power to carry on was an amazing feat in itself, let alone doing it by myself.

It was high noon. The sun's unforgiving wrath beat down upon me like an ant under a magnifying glass as I traveled the desolate roads that were once a major city. The buildings lay in ruins and rubble as far as the eye could see. The heat was nearly unbearable due to the lack of moisture in the air. What was once a tropical oasis, was now an arid dessert. It scarcely rained, and when it did, even that wasn't much. I had small collection areas, but they quickly dried up if I didn't get to in time. I was out foraging in a small patch of vegetation I mistakingly came across while searching for water. There were a few insects and edible plants there, so at least I'd have something to eat for a day or two. I was trying to catch what looked like a grasshopper when a shimmer in the dirt caught my eye. I hastily caught the insect and shoved it into my pack for safe keeping. I then returned to the location of the shimmering object and carefully scraped the dirt and dust aside. My eyes grew wide with wonder as I realized what it was. A small gold locket, partially buried in the soil. I carefully removed it from its filthy grave and used a scrap of cloth to clean it. Once it was as clean as I could get it, I gently pried it open; inside was a slightly damaged picture of a small family. A mom, a dad, and two little girls; twins, by the looks of it. A stray tear glided down my covered cheek, dampening the cloth as I remembered what it was like to be a part of a family. My parents and younger brother succumbed to the mass drought that came with the fall. I was just returning with what little water I had found, only to find that they had passed. My heart stung as I clutched the locket to my chest and muttered a few words in memory of this family and the loss of my own. I set the locket down against the base of a small shrub and went on my way with renewed hope that there are others out there, survivors like me. The hope that,  maybe one day, I could be a part of a family once again. A family I could call my own. That little locket a constant reminder of what was and what may yet be to come.