The White Church

Timothy had woken up from his slumber, when the light shined downed on his face. He knew he had slept through the dawning of a new day, and had wasted a good amount of time getting to his destination. But he figured he would rather face a little bit of darkness than be exhausted for the remainder of his time left on earth. . As he stretched away the slumber and started to awake to the world around him, the more his old wounds began to reopen. The memories he had once held so closely to him, were not knifes to his heart and sharp reminders of the world he had lost.

Three years ago the whole world went into a warfare for the third time in its existence, but instead of the war lasting years, this one only took six months with it ending, with no one left to claim victory. The Left and The Right tore the middle apart. The north and the south slaughtered the east and the west, leaving no one alive to pick the pieces back up and try to rebuild a new order. The survivors if you could called them that decided it was best to live in a world with no order. And to be honest Timothy didn't think there were any more survivors left.

"It is time." He told himself as he rose from his (pathetic) excuse for a bed, he had decided it was time to complete his mission. Timothy, possibly the last surviving man on earth had found an abandoned mattress store a couple miles west from the small town he was searching for. It was a perfect place to rest for the night, and prepare his last meal before his last slumber. So far, everything was going occurring to plan. He thought to himself that this day was ordained. So many times he had been disappointed by life, a common factor that he should have been used to by now. After everything he lost why should his expect goodness and mercy to follow him.

Timothy went to the crude place that he called a campfire. The coals were still burning and the wood that he had found from the trees outback had been reduced to ashes. After carefully looking he had determined that the hot coals were strong enough to make another fire. Timothy gathered branches, leaves, and twig and began to rebuild the roaring fire he had only a couple of hours before. Impatience was gnawing on his soul as all that was coming out of his labor was smoke. He began to curse some more and began to pile more twigs and branches onto the pit until finally he had returned the flames. It was a stress relief for him. A sign of good fortune that he would be successful on his quest.

Once the fire was stoked good and hot he grabbed a skillet out of his backpack. pulling the skillet out reminded him of all the times that he had used to cook before. Before the world was swallowed with warfare and foolishness he was always found in the kitchen preparing meals. It was a hobby of his he held on to ever since he was a small boy. The simple act of looking at this pan caused a lump and his throat and the sharp pain that comes with remembering the good times in life.

"It doesn't matter." He said as he wiped the tears away from his eyes. "very soon nothing will." He always found it odd to talk to himself, but in his circumstances in being alone, with every single person on the earth died, he decided it was worth breaking a couple of social norms just so he could hold on to the few strings he had left to hold on for sanity. And it seemed to work.

After eating his first meal of rabbits, birds, and apples he picked from a tree yesterday, He was ready to make the last leg of his journey. After complanting what his next step would be, he decided that he would no longer need any of his belonges. Digging through his bag he threw out the rest of his cooking equipment, the pain pills he found while raiding a pharmacy, and the other rations and miscellaneous items he found while on his journey.

Timothy kept searching through his bad trying to find the one thing he wanted to take with him for the rest of his journey and sure enough he found it. The Heart Shaped Locket he had given to his beloved wife. This Locket meant the world to her. It was the first thing he had given to her after they had gotten married. Timothy thought to himself how could five years go by so fast. How could within that short amount of time he would find love, and within the last few years have it all ripped from his arms by mens whose hatred was so palpable that is lead to the destruction of civilized nations. This Locket and what is represented was the last great treasure that He had ever known. Now, he was going to die with it.

Timothy began his eleven mile hike to find the building he had been traveling to rediscover. The sooner he walked down a once busy highway and streets he started to reform that lump in his throat. He saw old billboards advertising the basic mundane products that brought only annoyance as first glance, but now they were hidden wonders to a young mans brittle soul. He passed the high school where he graduated from, he passed the police station were his father work and died at, he passed the barber shop where he would get a buzz cut every summer. Until finally he found it. The Old White Church were he was married in.

Somehow, Somewhere the church was in a stable condition. the windows were broken in and the doors were hanging only by the mercy of the nails holding them in, but looking around Timothy noticed that every other building had been burnt down or vandalized to the point of ruins. Only giving him the feeling that this long journey had been ordained by a higher power.

Timothy walked in through the doors, trying his best to preserve them but they were to fragile to touch and they came crashing down on to the ground. He made his way up the stairs, pass the bell tower to his left and a lift that helped people with wheelchairs and broken legs on his right. He walked passed the broken pews, and the stain glass windows that had an awe and wonder about them but now we're shattered. Just like his own world.

He finally made it to the platform, and stood the place where he had been the day he took his bride's hand in marriage. He had finally arrived at his destination. And now, he was ready to fade away into oblivion. He took the heart shaped locket off of his neck and threw it on the ground. Tears began to bubble out of his eyes and fall on the stained red carpet. He had kept his promise in getting his wife necklace back to this place where they were married, and now it was his time to die. Timothy had taken his pistol out of his holster, and placed in on the left side of his face, adjacent to his ear. With one pull of the trigger a now soulless body had dropped to the ground like paper weight. The blood trickled out of Timothy body and covered the the heart locket of his late wife.

With Timothy's last act of humanity, earth had lost its last son.