Status: Updated once or twice a week.
After the World's End
Chapter One
Chapter One
The world was empty. It wasn't very long ago that the world was crowded with humans. None of them knew that they would be gone in less than 20 years. Humans had never stopped to think about their mortality. If they hadn't been so stubborn and arrogant, maybe things would have been different.
All of the evidence of humans was still there. There were still buildings that towered over the once bustling cities, cars that had seemingly been abandoned in the middle of the street, and all of the millions of other things that humans had left behind.
In the basement of one of the innumerable buildings in what was once of the most populated cities in the United States, there was a small sound seeming to come from underground. If anyone had been alive to notice it, they would have thought that it was just another rat. The floor rattled again and this time a piece of it came up and slid across the floor. A small, scrawny boy crawled out of the dark space, covered in dust and soot. It would have been hard to guess the boy's age by looking at him, but he had just turned fourteen.
The boy was disoriented. He had no idea how long he'd been underground. He had hidden in one of the many places he'd found during the last few years in the city. The boy was strong, too strong to let himself be killed by one of the people who'd lost their minds during the war. He'd been alone since he was ten and had learned how to take care of himself long before then.
The boy was young, his emaciated body making him look even younger as he stumbled across the floor, weak from hunger. It wasn't hard to find food, if someone knows where to look, as the boy had learned from experience. It was, however, an acquired skill to make sure that the building a unsuspecting person was walking into wasn't about to fall or blow up. Everything in the city started to fall apart without people to keep it up. Systems that had run the city and even normal household machines had stopped working, but they refused to leave without a fight. That fight usually included hot, fiery metal being blasted across the room and some loud noise that would have the boy diving to the floor in terror.
The boy dragged himself up the stairs, panting with each step. He was so exhausted and he wanted to stop, but he wouldn't allow himself to. That's what had gotten him through life so long. He felt so old, like he had lived his whole life already, at only fourteen.
When he finally got up the stairs, the boy allowed himself to hunch over and gasp for breath so his frail body wouldn't revolt. Soon, he had to collect himself and hobbled across the floor to a hole in the wall where he had hidden a bottle of water and some canned food. The food tasted terrible, but he knew it wouldn't spoil and that made all the difference to the boy.
He slumped against the wall, trying to figure out what to do next. All he knew was, he couldn't stay in the city. The boy would die if he stayed here, whether from the dangers of the machines, the people, or even something as simple as getting hurt in an ordinary accident and not being able to take care of himself.
After awhile, he realized there was nothing stopping him from leaving. The new idea was frightening, but at the same time freeing. He could leave then and wouldn't even have to have a destination in mind. The boy smiled at the thought; the first smile in a long time. He pulled a backpack out of the hole in the wall and spent the rest of the afternoon gathering up food, so he could leave.
The boy cautiously gathered up as much food as he could carry from other hiding places. He was pretty sure that his food would last him for close to a month and after that he could find food in the wild and find a town if he needed to.
All that was left was for the boy to leave. That's when he came to the hard part. He was suddenly overwhelmed. He was so worried that he'd pick the wrong way. The boy knew that was silly and shook it off. 'It doesn't matter,' he thought to himself. 'I can go anywhere I want to now. This isn't my home.'
He chose to walk down the main road. The boy had always been afraid of this road because that's where the looters usually went if they were in the city, but the boy decided that this new change in his life meant he had to stop being afraid. It took all day for the boy to reach the outskirts of the city, but when he did, he felt like nothing could stop him. The boy left his home and never looked back.
The world was empty. It wasn't very long ago that the world was crowded with humans. None of them knew that they would be gone in less than 20 years. Humans had never stopped to think about their mortality. If they hadn't been so stubborn and arrogant, maybe things would have been different.
All of the evidence of humans was still there. There were still buildings that towered over the once bustling cities, cars that had seemingly been abandoned in the middle of the street, and all of the millions of other things that humans had left behind.
In the basement of one of the innumerable buildings in what was once of the most populated cities in the United States, there was a small sound seeming to come from underground. If anyone had been alive to notice it, they would have thought that it was just another rat. The floor rattled again and this time a piece of it came up and slid across the floor. A small, scrawny boy crawled out of the dark space, covered in dust and soot. It would have been hard to guess the boy's age by looking at him, but he had just turned fourteen.
The boy was disoriented. He had no idea how long he'd been underground. He had hidden in one of the many places he'd found during the last few years in the city. The boy was strong, too strong to let himself be killed by one of the people who'd lost their minds during the war. He'd been alone since he was ten and had learned how to take care of himself long before then.
The boy was young, his emaciated body making him look even younger as he stumbled across the floor, weak from hunger. It wasn't hard to find food, if someone knows where to look, as the boy had learned from experience. It was, however, an acquired skill to make sure that the building a unsuspecting person was walking into wasn't about to fall or blow up. Everything in the city started to fall apart without people to keep it up. Systems that had run the city and even normal household machines had stopped working, but they refused to leave without a fight. That fight usually included hot, fiery metal being blasted across the room and some loud noise that would have the boy diving to the floor in terror.
The boy dragged himself up the stairs, panting with each step. He was so exhausted and he wanted to stop, but he wouldn't allow himself to. That's what had gotten him through life so long. He felt so old, like he had lived his whole life already, at only fourteen.
When he finally got up the stairs, the boy allowed himself to hunch over and gasp for breath so his frail body wouldn't revolt. Soon, he had to collect himself and hobbled across the floor to a hole in the wall where he had hidden a bottle of water and some canned food. The food tasted terrible, but he knew it wouldn't spoil and that made all the difference to the boy.
He slumped against the wall, trying to figure out what to do next. All he knew was, he couldn't stay in the city. The boy would die if he stayed here, whether from the dangers of the machines, the people, or even something as simple as getting hurt in an ordinary accident and not being able to take care of himself.
After awhile, he realized there was nothing stopping him from leaving. The new idea was frightening, but at the same time freeing. He could leave then and wouldn't even have to have a destination in mind. The boy smiled at the thought; the first smile in a long time. He pulled a backpack out of the hole in the wall and spent the rest of the afternoon gathering up food, so he could leave.
The boy cautiously gathered up as much food as he could carry from other hiding places. He was pretty sure that his food would last him for close to a month and after that he could find food in the wild and find a town if he needed to.
All that was left was for the boy to leave. That's when he came to the hard part. He was suddenly overwhelmed. He was so worried that he'd pick the wrong way. The boy knew that was silly and shook it off. 'It doesn't matter,' he thought to himself. 'I can go anywhere I want to now. This isn't my home.'
He chose to walk down the main road. The boy had always been afraid of this road because that's where the looters usually went if they were in the city, but the boy decided that this new change in his life meant he had to stop being afraid. It took all day for the boy to reach the outskirts of the city, but when he did, he felt like nothing could stop him. The boy left his home and never looked back.
♠ ♠ ♠
Tell me what you think? :)