Our World XXI
Four separate stories, four different lives in the wake of the perfect storm. The choices we make are building the new face of humanity. Each day we struggle to survive. No more news, no Hollywood and no political finger pointing. Now the lights are out, water stopped running, this is Our World
Its another cold night. We can expect many more to come. Connor is asleep but I cant. The faces of the past are nestled in every dark corner of the room. Staring down at me through the golden licks of flame coming from the fireplace. Like the twisted ghosts of a Christmas Carol, they haunt me. Why me? I am not the cause of their doom. Or am I. For years I was mad at the Government for doing this to my country and letting society fall apart.
We gave them the reigns of freedom. Like bad parents we sat our child infront of the TV and let that raise them. Freedom was our baby but we gave it over to the politicians told them to make freedom easier, make it cheaper and keep the ugly stuff out of sight. Now we blame them for it falling apart. It was and always will be the peoples responsibility. They are no more guilty of these lives lost than me or you!
I look at my son. He had nothing to do with this. Now he lives with the consequences. I tell him stories about whats things were like and how they were going to be in the future adn he cant even believe me. What little he remembers is not like a dream to him. Every action. Reaction. My actions or ability to not act has created his world. Our World!
There were just so many nay sayers. People who thought they knew better. I never gave them much credence. I was a boyscout. It stuck with me. Be Prepared. So thats just what I did. I saw the writing on the wall and went ahead. I didn’t tout my progress to people as that seemed stupid. Opening yourself up for riducule and even attack. Though my neighbors had eyes they saw me working on things. Building hoophouses and growing all year, canning.
I had an older neighbor who lived down the street from me. In a beautiful brick corner home. A home I always threatened to buy one day to my wife. High atop a hill it sat shaded from the sun by two large oaks. The back yard got great sun for growing. Doris lived there alone and one day she showed up at my back fence. She told me. ” I lived through the first depression. I watched my friends mom hang herself. Whats coming. This next depression I mean. All the cans in the world wont protect you from it,” she looked at the ground. “It will simply prolong your agony”
As I look around at the family it makes me wonder. Was she right. How will this get better? How long will it take to get better. We dont even know how bad it is. Who will rise up and take this monster on. Will it be the same group of afluents that always have? If so what will keep us from falling back into the same cycle again?
I took a night. A night in the guitar closet. It wasnt nearly as uncomfortable as it sounds. When the pressure died down and the footsteps in the halls all but stopped I crept out into the open to get some water. Their would be food here to sustain the “product” but I wasnt hungry yet anyway. I had to get my hands on some weapons. Whether projectile or otherwise it was necessary.
That morning as I slithered around the halls of Shea Middle School I decided this would be my new home. I would live amongst them. Slowly but surely erradicating them all. There is only so much a little girl from Richmond, Virginia can do against a gang of thugs. However, in the cloak of night with a good hunk of pipe, well, I could be devastating. The proverbial wrench in the spokes.
The idea of killing has settled within me after the first bus went into the stratosphere. Surely if any hesitation persisted I could just use the tiny bloodshot eyes of those addict children they house here. Their moneymakers. Oh yeah. Killing will come easy here.
They thrust into a full blown riot. After the bell Dan moved in aggresive. He knew he was running out of time. Especially with a cut like that. Now no one has ever stopped a fight over a cut in this dirty fight ring but you could see Dan was concerned. He moved in fast and angry landing two body shots that cut the wind right out of my lungs. I almost took a knee over the second one.
If it hadnt been such a close fight in the last match I may have fallen. I was focused on him but when we locked up against the cage I could see other people fighting and chairs flying. It was getting ugly within those walls. Then I saw the fire.
Some nut had decided that Dan and I trading blows was simply not exciting enough. Only the element of a bonfired to backlight the riot in the stands would do. Smoke filled the air fast and before I knew it people were climbing the cage! Instead of running out they were coming in to fight too. One guy took a swing at the back of Dans head after we broke suit. I popped him. Even though he was swinging at my opponent I had to pop em.