After It All

Prologue
“Roses are red and violets are blue. Then by the conservative equation, violet equals blue. What makes violet? Red and blue. But by equation violet equals blue so what makes red? The past tense of read. Because the word you read more than any other word so far in this equation? Blue. You read blue, which incidentally makes violet but violet is blue. Going off of how I just blew your mind, everything you just red (past tense) actually just blue your mind.”
There it is. Another one. Another person trying to recreate what happened. Trying to find a secret reality in which everything isn’t desolate and dead. They need to stop fantasizing. It happened. Nothing can change that. People just can’t live with that specific reality so they try to make a different one in which everything is better. Everything is okay and we are okay. It’s not, we’re not. Bound to this useless pile of dark matter suspended in a barely fruitful galaxy. We are not okay.
It makes me wonder what goes through these people’s heads. Passing the soul dead people on the streets of course can do its damage, but the damage it does can only be so much. I sit on a bench everyday just to see how much people didn’t make it through the night. We are declining at an inspiring amount.
Inspiring to these people to make separate universes. Actually, that is the scientists new goal; to make a portal to an alternate universe where we can live, happy, unstressed. They don’t know many have tried and once they thing they got it, BAM, the portal collapsed on them and their families.
The looks in their children’s eyes when they feel their body and soul separating from each other, their body being crushed by the dark matter not being able to keep itself up as well as their soul stringing out into the dark abyss called space and time. It’s….tormenting, to say the least.
You could say we excelled, finally. Humans not being able to sustain knowledge, but we figured out how to get past that. But now, that’s not helping us at all. We devolved, if you would. The lot of us returning to the panicking people on that day, the others dying immediately, their brains being unable to comprehend what was happening to such an extent that it implodes in on itself. The popping of many blood vessels and the spine collapsing, restricting the brain from getting oxygen that it desperately gasps for, then poof. Dead.
Nothing could’ve saved us. The Christians thought it was Jesus returning. They ran to the hills expecting to be let up into the pearly gate of heaven, into this awesome paradise where illness is not living, sadness and anger not present. Other Christians thought it was God damning us all, us not meeting his expectations. That would’ve been better then what happened.
I’d rather live eternally dying and suffering than live the life I have now. The things around me, the things I see happening. Life altering. I wander to the same place every day, watching those things walk past, forced to live as if it never happened. I begged them to at least be able to come to this spot for fifteen minutes a day, with the exchanged of being beat for fifteen minutes.
If only I have a reason for coming here. To this spot the same spot I was when it happened. When they came. I’d rather have been asleep then see them bring down our atmosphere suffocating us for what felt like hours, us still living, still suffering. I’d rather have woken up to their ugly faces then see them kill my parents in front of me all because they wouldn’t give me up. I’d rather have gone with them then have watched Holly die.
Id shouldn’t cry so they’ll see me. I’ll be punished. I’ve been wondering all along what they were. They want to be called divine instructors here. I don’t call them anything. They are nothing from here, aliens you could say. Hah. That brings back when we used to make movies making fun of them, of making them out to be harmless guys who just want another friend in the galaxy, making them out to be heartless creatures that kill for no reason and ruin our whole planet. Boy, were we wrong.
Crashing our entire atmosphere and destroying the moon. The ocean ran amok along with every other life source on the planet. People panicking, clouds thundering and lighting crashing down on houses, cars, people. Waves, tsunamis if you would, crashed along every shore flooding everything between 500 miles inland. Loud roars of engines, honking of horns, people thinking they could run from it, thinking they could escape this cruel reality, this damned fate to us humans. Nukes everywhere went off, shooting at the intruder setting a dark perimeter around the earth in exchange of the atmosphere, they said. I don’t want to call them aliens, since that’s not what I think they are. I think they are simply, them.
Some said, the world was going to end in a bright scene of colors, as the world implodes then explodes, giving humans a split three seconds to see what sound would look like before we die. Some said the world would end by fire, others said it would end by flood, by nuclear warfare, by global warming. By aliens. But not like this. They thought the world would end by, I don’t know, actually ending. Not by being holed up in a blank area where nothing matters, where your life ends before it even tries to begin.
Oh right, introductions. Hi, my name is Ryan McCarthy and I am surviving the apocalypse.