The Seeds Of Desolation

Isn't it ironic that the human eye can be blinded by both light and darkness. The brightest beam of lights can leave us seeing nothing but white while the darkest night leaves us submerged in black. The day that ignited rampant rampage upon the Earth, was a day starting the topple of humanity's dominos. The day the beams began. The day an event took place causing an uproar in human life.

An event of bright light beams flashing in the sky. Blinding light with a deafening sonic boom as a follow up effect. Giving the resemblance of lightening and then thunder, but far from natural or organic. Flashes working as EMP strikes, frying any and every electronic mechanism left vulnerable to the wave claps. Shocking wave claps happening back to back, spreading to all parts of the planet. Reports coming in rapidly until no warnings are heard at all. No form of communications, just pure prehistoric survival necessary.

Survival of the fittest, most equipped and prepared. Everyone left susceptible. One of very few Earthlings has made preparations for herself and her family. After having a startling dream foreshadowing the awful event to come. A nightmare shared between her and her husband, causing cold sweats and expectations of the catastrophic day. Before the prophecy is fulfilled, she preps a friend's brick cabin located miles off the Appalachian Trail of Maryland in Garrett County. Making the four hour drive from Baltimore City was almost as a horror movie moving by, as graphic scenes fill the streets. They arrived at their solar-panel-filled fenced community of six. A community of just her, her husband, their three children, two preschoolers and one newborn, and a white pitbull pup named Mister. She began making a garden from the variety of fast growing seeds within her lengthy heart shaped locket, knowing their type just by sight. Seeds she had collected over the pasting four months after the dreams of desolation. This garden is to grow and blossom in the back of the cabin. It is accompanying her several coupled aquaponics tanks and already grown fruitage and vegetation. Going along with the salt dried meat, oats, fruit preserves, honey, canned foods, juices, dried milk formula, puree, flour, oil, wine and water bottle stock piles. All stored with fire wood and weaponry, in a rectangular shed next to the oval koi pond. The mesmerizing Koi pond holding the eight koi fish, that would eventually be grilled over the backyard fire pit in the days to come. Them making sure to save three koi, one male and two females, left to repopulate their koi world. A little village protected by set up surveillance cameras and installed barbed wire surrounding tall redwood fences. The fence painted camo green, hidden from the average eye with strategically placed artificial Faux Ivy Hedge Leaf and privacy vines every few centimeters. Throughout the day they spend time in the furnished solar powered Willow treehouse. Nested up above daily to watch pass the fence using high power binoculars equipped with night vision. And at night is their hurry to rest in the furnished underground bunker made from a voluptuous vault. Using purchased fireplace lanterns for light and heat run by solar panel and battery. Rarely in the cabin that she had hoped to have filled with family and friends. She thinks of them, missing them often. Contemplating having to leave the safe haven one dreadful day, she speaks out loud to herself as the universe listens in.

"I made house visits and calls, telling them all the same. All about the nightmare, me and hubby both had the dream. Dreams of seeing the silhouette of an invisible transparent trippy aircraft. Causing blinding beams to flash, leaving the human race to face the aftermath.

Immersing us into what has come. Time to sing the war cry and bang the war drum. No going back to where we've sprinted from. As civilization bruises purple as plums, the rich become equivalent to bums. All cards disabled with no use for cash. Time to survive the flashes scorching society to ash. Yet they called me a theorist of conspiracy. Those near and dear to me. Made my warnings into jokes and me into a clown. And as the world crumbles down, where

are they now?"

"And who is to blame? When they heard me but didn't listen or gain the message about the safe haven in case, disaster like lightening might strike this place. The way that it did with haste. Yells, screams and shouts of profanity loudly rang out. Then began the sounds of buck shots that bang out. Like The Purge, violence began to surge. It's similar and sinister. Like a villain scientist's laughter, society stands malicious in stature. The sound of the heavy rains pitter-patters. Miles outside these fences blare the sound of blood splatters, like paint onto canvas. Flies increase as does the maggots. They abundantly feast, on dead bodies rotting in the streets. And here I was, planting seeds while I sang to my own beats. Daily making bond with my garden, like Rocket and Groot. Listening to songs of the birds and the owls' hoot. Vest on chest, milk still in breast. As I water roots, I fix my holsters holding Uzis ready to shoot. But no action yet. As I gamble and bet, I courageously fret. Awaiting the arrival of an enemy. Hoping to see a friend of me or some family. Envisioning my mom and dad with cheesy smiles at the gate."

"Resisting these thoughts of mobs filled with hate. At least we have a route of escape. But I really like it here. Visitations only from the squirrels and deer. In a place of lost time, I know the date. It's been 44 days and still we wait. Free within our safe place while others remain stuck like Gorilla Glue. If it wasn't for prophecy who would have knew, I mean who could have known? Now being something that everyone knows. We all walk on eggshells, on tippy-toes as violence and rage grows. Upon the Earth like fungi, lots of folks die. Too many souls cry. Ignorance permanently molds the mind. Asking myself when is it time. Time to leave and when is it time to grieve, the fact that no one came. Yes, who's to blame? World filling full of murderous Cains. For mine, I must be the Able that lives avoiding the reaper's pains. With three mouths to feed, I'd have to make someone bleed. If they try to come in between me providing their needs. The main reason I collected these seeds. That I kept hidden away in my locket. For a time when the joints of Earth got ripped out of socket."

"By an event destined to take place, us unable to stop it. The event that treaded over our world while wearing cleats. Causing the piles of bodies without heartbeats, in a world destined for defeat. A feeling of gratefulness along with shame, knowing that we avoid and abstain. Feeling disdain, imagining the countless numbers of pain. Flooding with injustice stringing like acid rain. The belly of the Earth faces a colostomy. Opened and exposed, losing its possessions and apostrophe. Catastrophe mixed with calamity. Stepping into the pile of bull stool. Pulling up mucked boots, I become the Deadpool. Answering questions that were once left rhetorical. Providing ruthless justice and reservations for just us. While bursting the bubbles of political pus, a preservating umbrella is a must. For the day we vinegar the rust and blow back the dust, exposing a grandiloquence apocalypse. Of sky tyrants make restrictions, using extinction as eviction. Controlling remotes of destruction, causing glitches and disruption. In the matrix of what we knew as life. Murals flushed down the drain as few chose to do right. Criminals turn into animals, free from the cages that indict."

"All starting from the blinding lights. My vision polarizing like a Polaroid as i regained sight. Setting the world on fire, turning up the fahrenheit. A world that's been backstabbed by another world's sharpness with jagged edge. We hold tight hanging on ledge. I unconsciously jangle the seeds left inside the embroided locket heart. Knowing the nightmare, that this was the start."

"Starting point of this event and already so much sin. A crowd runs around looking down on end. Making their demons their friends. They fill with rage and lust. Allowing the influences from the incubus and succubus. I see angelic forces fighting for our trust in protection. In this world of little love and affection, just affliction and bad ambition. Bad intentions. I know that I'm being watched from the sky, by the persons doing this living up high. Ready to roam, they wait for us to die. Concerning my familia, did they get caught up in the rift-raft. Or did they take the wrong path. Wishing for them to get here instead of finding a route of fear. If only they took heed, they'd be here."

"Without hesitation I planted the seeds that day. I knew it would be a key to survival in a world far away from the struggling at bay. We unlock the doors closed to the outside suffering as we eat and play. If only they heeded warning, they'd be okay."

Four months after the horrendous dream, the event takes place and she takes the locket of seeds everywhere in case of disaster striking. And when it struck she would be more than ready and prepared. She shared the info with family and friends and even some strangers. Info about the Appalachian Trail and the cabin. Laying miles within the wilderness, surrounded by trees and vines, hard to find. Almost invisible to the naked eye, from up high and down below. When the welcomed visitors were in sight, she planned to make a special bird call and meet them halfway to bring them pass the fence into a private prepared paradise. But nobody listened, assuming it to be just a silly dream.

"I nourished and cultivated the land. Set up a plan and labored with happy hands. My buddy never imagined like this, the abandoned space inside this fence. Being made luxurious with manna that's heaven sent. Preparing to run from a place that's hell-bent, on self destructing. The foundation to a new beginning is what I began constructing."

As she sits, steaming up the glass window that separates her from the outside world, she knows that the distance is thin and frail. Knowing that one day the glass might be shattered letting in the outside or thrusting her into it's mania. Wondering who'd she have to be in such an event and what she'd have to become.

"I contemplate and evaluate who I am and who'd I become, being thrown into a sea of red rum. Indulging and intoxicating myself in activity I used to abstain from. Knowing that one day I'd use my free will, cheerfully choosing to kill. Using my own hands to turn the faucets where blood spill. I'd have to be the character Uma played on Kill Bill."

"Giving beatings and taking names later. A leader like the lady in the Terminator. I'd conquer all the boards even the ones on super-hard mode. I'm willing to provide answers, cracking Da Vinci codes. No time to think small or old, in a new situation so bold. Some see it as a natural phenomenon. I see it as an experiment. Population decrease at its finest, cleaning Earth's lent. An attempt to break us but we're only bent. Waiting for our fix. United we fight, so to win we must mix. Sharing what we know in order to rebuild. To win the war the sword is what we must yield. Like Michonne from The Walking Dead. Survival of the fittest, yes, while chopping off heads."

"We'd truck to Maine, pass Canada reaching Alaskan wilderness. I'd be the royal leader, a Leia Organa type empress. But only if I had to leave. Until then, here is my refuge with alot to achieve."

"Because I didn't do it for selfish reason. Being willing to help others outside in due season. Becoming the Katniss Mockingjay in this imposed hunger game. Or the Harriett, making the Appalachian Trail my underground rail. Road, of close water and fish. Following the Northern Star seeking to grant my wish. Hunting along the way, holding new sweet seeds within my heart locket's bowl. Reaching out to destinations and saving souls. Helping the needy along the way. In the mindset of Captian Marvel, Wonder Woman, and Batman I'd stay. Or the kid who wanted to free Willie his way. I could be the Will of Independence Day. Depicting the aspirations of Ahab's relentless revenge on Moby Dick. Defeating the plots of foreign beings as does Morty and Rick. Fighting to witness each day after after tomorrow. Finding the peace and comfort within the chaotic sorrow."

A tear rolls pass her cornea corners, down the bridge of her nose to her nostrils, pass her lips and hangs from her chin. Hanging on as does humanity to hope of relief. As the tear is released she watches it free fall, smacking the already wet grass blades. She glances upward, blinking to keep the rainwater out. Courageously staring into a sky of uncertainty. She chews while spitting out sunflower seed shells, shifting her eyes and lids upwards. She smiles a bit with hope and positive expectations. Awaiting Earth's harvest season, while peeping at the new foilage from the seeds of desolation. Still wearing her locket, whispering to herself, "this to shall past."

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