Rebirth

Rebirth

A healthy mind does not ponder whether a current day is its last. Even if one lives like it, one does not truly think of the possibility; the real chance of the end of their continuity is not measurable. Every second is a gamble, every moment another step into uncertainty. Each of us were dedicated to our singular way of life, whatever it may have been. Some chose to follow their careers, some focused on building a family and setting loose upon the world a new generation. Some prefered the evolution of their education, while others simply existed, unmoving. Most didn’t think of everything they’ve worked hard for being torn away. The majority of people didn’t ponder whether their family would be ruined overnight. It was incredibly easy to put the thought of individual expiration into an after-thought; to shove it into a mental lockbox never or only rarely to be opened.

I was no different. Hell, the end of the world seemed flat-out impossible to me. No way! I thought, there was no way that everything I had done and busted my ass off for could be erased so easily. Years spent on the back-end side of terrible factory assembly line jobs while focusing on a medical degree. Even more years of raising a child with a woman I told I couldn’t live without. I truly couldn’t, not without her and not without our son. And now...

“You know how you always said you’d be a terrible father, Simon?”

“Yeah, yeah, Candice. You gonna tell me I was wrong the whole time now?”

“Well look at you, you’re so good with him and you don’t even see it, hun. You’re a natural!”

...they were all gone, and the thoughts of the life I lived before pierced my mind like super-heated daggers, burning away my sanity. Every ember that crossed the threshold of my brain was a memory that whispered to me of what I once had. Every smoldering speck of ash fried my senses, hollowing and numbing all that I was. I hated that I could relate to the wasteland around me, it represented all that came after. It was a visual reminder that everything I had and everyone I loved were gone.

The world’s governments engaged in a war that seemed to have no end. They found nothing but stalemate and impasse on either side of the conflict, and yet they still fought. They didn’t care about the people that would be lost, to them we were all but statistics meant to prompt a reason to continue the war. Every weapon aside from the nuclear bomb was utilized, every possible strategy to kill each other in warfare was planned and executed, and still nobody involved made any progress for themselves. When the world cried out for the fighting to stop, all it got in return were empty reassurances that the war was necessary. We cried out for peace, because we finally and collectively realized how the war would truly end. The threat of nuclear annihilation was a beast that threw open its covers to finally reveal itself, and now stared at humanity with eyes full of malice. By the time we turned to face it, its pupils returned a reflection of a world set aflame. The breath held within the world’s lungs was released in a single, collective scream.

The worst part about nuclear weapons is that you never hear them coming. The sirens are the only warning, until they get cut out by a sudden flash that outshines the Sun. They are sudden and abrupt. For a few seconds after one hits, the sky splits open into a red hue from the epicenter of the explosion as if someone unzipped the atmosphere. And then, you hear it. The deafening and earth-shaking thunder from the explosion that violently vibrates the ground beneath you to a point you’d swear it was splitting apart. The shockwave that comes afterwards levels buildings, and ruptures internal organs. Subsequently, the thermal radiation released from the blast burns the skin and burns your eyes. Anything combustible catches fire, including clothing. The aftermath of a nuclear war sends up so much soot into the air that it collects in the atmosphere and blots on the Sun.

I was in the cellar of our garage when the detonation occurred.. My wife and child just so happened to be at the store to help stock up the said cellar with food and the like.

I should have gone with them.

They’re gone.

Should have been there to kiss my wife one more time.

Can’t find them.

Should have been there to look my child in the eyes one more time.

They’re gone… can’t find them… they’re gone… can’t find them…

Hopeless. Hopeless. Hopeless.

The snow pressed softly against my boots as I walked across the barren wasteland, peering at the frozen forest through the visor of my gas mask. I’d made my way to the mountain range roughly a couple hundred miles out from my home; I’d figured there would be more game to hunt for food than in the city. I’d reasoned that the more remote the area, the more resources I could take advantage of, even if I had to shoot something to get it first.

Now, I was sitting cooped up in an abandoned park ranger station, sitting on the floor with my rifle next to me. I’d run out of food, and the animal meat I’d been eating had taken a toll on my health. It seemed it was time...

“You look better at holding Marcus than I do, Simon! And I’m the mother!”

“Pssh, you did tell me I was a natural afterall!”

...Distant from feeling. From emotion. No will to carry on...

“Simon, are you happy? Despite what could happen in our lives, are you happy?”

“I’m glad to spend every moment I have with you, Candice. It doesn’t matter what lies in wait for us, s’long as I’m with you I don’t fear the suspense. The happiness you give me outshines any fear.”

“Mhmhm. I love how poetic you are.”

...I couldn’t get the voice of my wife out of my head. I couldn’t stop hearing the adorable giggling that my son made. Worse still, I’d begun to see my wife standing out in a large opening, staring up at the sky every morning I woke. I could hear her screaming, even from all the way out in the clearing. Her voice would get softer with each phrase, and sometimes her voice was accompanied by our baby crying...

“Where were you? Where were you? WHERE WERE YOU!? WHERE WERE YOU!?”

“Abandoned, you left it all behind, it's all gone, nothing left, Marcus misses you, the burning wont stop, I can’t feel my hands.”

“I love you.”

...I could not even feel enough to shed a tear anymore. All I felt was my hand gliding along the barrel of my rifle. I slowly wrapped my fingers around the rifle’s carry handle, and brought the handle to my other hand. I then prepared for whatever, if anything, would come next after I pulled the trigger. That was, until, a man’s voice stopped me. “End of your rope, huh? Must be a pretty crummy feeling to be in your position.” Instinctively, I spun around on my rear end and aimed my rifle at who’d spoken. A man in a completely clean white suit and top hat stood in front of the barrel of my rifle. I shouted at him aggressively. “Who the hell are you?” The man continued to smile at me. “A friend, Simon. Though you don’t know that yet. I see you were ready to get it over with, perhaps since you’re going to be dead for all eternity, why give me a minute of your time first?” After he told me this, I raised an eyebrow, off put by the man. In a nuclear wasteland, this man was completely free of dirt or ash, walking around in a suit and top hat of all things. “You’ve been through quite a lot, haven’t you buddy?” He asked me. I gritted my teeth, frustrated with the man’s soft voice. It was completely out of tune with the negativity the wasteland radiated. The man himself radiated a feeling of some kind of omniscience. “...What do you want?” I asked him carefully. He kicked his white padded shoe up onto his left knee, responding indirectly to my question. “This wasteland… It is a representation of sadness. Morals no longer exist. People are killing one another to extend their lives. As were you. This is a world meant for no man, Simon.” Frustrated with the man and his posture, I raised my rifle at him and demanded an explanation. “God damn it, who are you and what do you really want!? I don’t intend on giving you anything I have here, so either beat it or I’ll put two into your goddamn chest!” I yelled. The man simply shook his head, still smiling. “When you heard your wife when you awoke, which of what she told you felt like her?” I stare at the man for a moment. How did he know I heard my wife? How did he know I had one? Everything about this man felt like some omnipotent being straight out of a movie. “What…? How do y-” The man suddenly cut me off, repeating himself. “Which felt like her, Simon?” He asked again...

“...I love you…”

...I lowered my rifle. I didn’t know what to make of this man, his very being made me swear I was dreaming, but the wind that blew through broken windows and the dust that curled along its breeze were too real to be a dream. The man smiled a bit more, standing up while clearing his throat. “Come, follow me.” He told me, now headed to a window that overlooked the once beautiful mountain range. As I stood next to him, peering out of the window, he raised his hand, and directed my gaze to it. A heart-shaped locket, green in color with a golden wireframe. “Do you know what green means, Simon?” He asked me, to which I responded with “No.” He smiles, takes my hand and puts the locket in mine. “Green resembles rebirth. It represents renewal and harmony.” The man turned to me, exhaling sharply through his nostrils. “This is a world meant for no man.” He said, his smile now gone. The heart-shaped locket in my hand had a warmth to it, and the green gave off a faint glow. The man in the suit put his hands behind his back, staring out of the window. “The world around us is done, Simon.” He said, taking a large cigar from his back pocket. It was already lit as he stuck it into his mouth. “But love is not. Not even in a world where it seems to have no place.” He looked at the locket in my hand, and pointed at it. “That locket feeds your love onto the world, given your love is strong enough. The world will reciprocate your love onto itself, and be reborn.” He shifted his stance to face me. “Do you think your love still remains?” I looked down at the heart-shaped locket. All of the information given to me felt bizarre and unreal, and yet I felt a compulsion to act.

I peered out of the window, and wondered how beautiful the mountain range must’ve been before the war. I thought of my wife and her loving voice. I thought of my son’s playful smile, and I thought of the love I felt in their presence. Part of this felt involuntary, but for once the memories were pleasant again. For once, I could smile once more, and with tears running down my cheeks, I opened the locket, and exhaled.

I hear my wife’s voice again.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”