Something I started that I probably won't finish:
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Fire & Ice
In a world of fire:
Souls are burning bright.
Show me your desire,
Soar with me into the night.
Hear the cries of those who care
Echoing those who suffer
Underneath the fearsome flare,
Never to surrender.
In a world of ice and snow:
The white flag shows surrender.
The frozen beings little know
Of life stored deep under.
Waiting, waiting for their day
To come out from the ground.
The ice and snow they swear to slay;
They'll turn the world around.
Fire is red - burning bright,
But in the end we know
It leaves white ash no different than
If the world were covered in snow.
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Darkness. It was all I had known
for so long. But it was so much better than what was out there. Could it really
be over? Had we really won? All the lives lost, all the time spent underground,
spent living in darkness – was it finally worth it?
As we
reached the end of the tunnel the noise of shuffling footsteps came to a halt.
The door creaked open and a single beam of light broke through the darkness.
The silence grew more profound and our anxiousness stirred the air. Then, like
prisoners who had earned their freedom, we moved forward towards our new start.
The door was completely opened and the light was blinding, but still we kept
moving, without seeing, into the unknown.
The
wind hit my face and it was almost as painful as the light in my eyes. I took a
few steps to the side and sat down on the ground. Then I waited. I couldn’t
remember the last time I had seen the sun, the sky or anything really. I had
only been twelve when the war started and two years after we had been sent to
underground shelters for protection. “Be strong” mamma had said, “I’ll see you
soon.” Then she waved goodbye to me as I went into the shelter with all the
other children. I hadn’t known then that it would be the last time I’d ever see
her.
My
eyesight was getting clearer and I could see silhouettes moving around. Faces
that I hadn’t seen fully in years. Grown in the darkness. Matured in the
darkness. Hardened in the darkness.
White flakes were flowing in the wind. “Snowflakes?” I thought to
myself. Couldn’t be – it was too warm out. I saw the sun a little over the
horizon, small, obsolete in the whiteness that surrounded it.
“Attention!
Everyone gather around!” an unfamiliar voice called from somewhere behind me. I
dusted the white stuff off my pants and got up – defiantly not snow. Whatever
it was it felt soft yet rough, brittle but not fragile. I walked over to where
the crowd was gathering and saw a truck in front of which a lieutenant was
standing. He was aged nearly 40 years and had a rough appearance. He had brown
ragged hair and stubble of a beard. Surrounding him were four or five other
officers.
“I am
Lieutenant Andrew Kraft,” said he, “Today is Saturday July 28, 2038. We have
won the war but we still have a long way to go. Not many have survived but we
have managed to provide provisions for those who have. In this truck you will
find enough provisions for the next week. You will also find farming equipment
so that you can grow food for yourself. As you can imagine, our supplies are
running low so please plant the seeds as soon as possible. Be sure to remove
the ash covering the ground before you plant anything otherwise the seeds won’t
grow properly….”
Ash.
That’s what that white stuff was. So much destruction…That city I had known
hasn’t left a mark of existence. It’s like a new world, an alien planet…
“…We
will be back next week with any provisions we are able to collect.” And with
that the officers were off. They had left the load of the truck behind and some
people had already begun unloading.
“Come
on Macy!” It was Joshua. Like a blind man recognizes a familiar voice, so did I
after four years of darkness. I turn around to see the unfamiliar face belonging
to my old friend.
“You
haven’t changed a bit,” he breathes. Sadly I can’t say the same. The boy I had
known was now a man. His face had hardened and he now loomed over me, my head
just barely reaching his shoulder. We stare at each other for a moment, taking
it all in, and then we head over to get some supplies.
On the
other side of the cargo, people have already begun setting up tents and
clearing away the layer of ash covering the ground. I can’t remember the last
time I had felt so overwhelmed. Joshua is of the oldest of the twenty or so of
us. He was sixteen when we were sent to the shelters and the smallest must be
Suzie, she was only ten at the time. The smaller children weren’t sent as they
wouldn’t be able to stay without their mothers and the older ones were needed
for the movement.
Ah, the movement. It was like all
the great wars of time – freedom for the people, democracy over dictatorship.
But isn’t freedom and free will what had caused all this? Global warming,
deforestation, pollution, we had been learning about this since before we could
speak. It had finally gotten the better of us, all our food was synthetic and
our grandparent’s tales were something we could barely even dream of.
“Joshua,” I say as I help him set
up our tent, “Do you remember the stories my grandfather used to tell about the
trees in front of his old house and how the leaves would change colors in the
autumn?” Joshua and I used to walk to school together, he lived next to me and
would often come over to hear my grandfather’s stories of his childhood.
“I always wanted to go to the
forest reserve to see that…Guess there’s no chance now,” he says, looking
around. “Remember the preserved fruits my mom gave us?”
I nod, remembering about how
Joshua’s mother had gifted him fruits on his birthday. I had never tasted
anything so delicious.
