You wake up, your routine goes around, walking, working, watching, laughing, crying, talking, and then you fall into that silent abyss called your dreams, your nightmares. And then you awaken. It's a neverending cycle, isn't it? At least, until fate holds out its cold, skeletal hands and drags you to hell, but for everyone, on earth and all around, death comes easy.
Because you never lived.
But I did. And imagine how nice it would feel to be awoken by a voice, coming from the one that birthed and raised you, hearing her soft, sweet voice replaced by one of lifelessness and sorrow. Speaking of a lifeless planet. A great tragedy. And soon nothing. My mother stared at me, and she began to weep. I reached up to wipe away the tears, to wipe away this great fear, but what I pulled away were pieces of her flesh. Flesh that had turned fiery and liquified from my touch. Her eyes rolled out of their sockets, and I realized that she was not crying, but it was her flesh that was dripping.
A loud explosion distorted my startled mind. It felt as if a large hand had begun smashing into the house like a 5-year old with a lego structure. My mind screamed at me to run, run from this new danger, but my logic knew that this was something out of my control, and so I walked, and as I walked from my house, I turned once more to watch it crumble to ash and sink into the ground.
I wanted to sit there and sink into the ground too, but I didn't, I kept going, I kept walking, around me people I knew continued their lives, as one by one their flesh also began to drip into the ground. Buildings continued to crumble and sink into the ground. I wanted to run to hide, to fly, to be rid of this nightmare, but something told me that there was nothing to fear.
As I walked, I noticed the sun grew larger as well. This place, this world felt like it was gone, it had emptied out everything that it did not want. I saw my friend, I wanted to scream at her, tell her to run, to hide. Her expression was one of fear. She reached out her hand, her skin pale as the midnight moon that I so long for instead of this expanding sunrise. Her skin dripped too, exposing the skeleton beneath, but that too, turned to ash. Her eyes seemed to beg me to save her. And so I did. I picked up a beautiful looking rock, so lovely, and looking once more into those bright blue eyes, I smashed the stone into her exposed skull.
The sun grew so large that it seemed to cast a shadow upon the ground, which was crumbling too, revealing soil as black as ash. And soon the sun transformed, causing the sky to become black as night, there were no stars for me. I could've sat and waited for my flesh to peel as well, to join the earth in the ashes, I could've, but I walked instead. Is that what makes me real? Am I real at all? Are you real, have you ever wondered that, are your friends, family, is this earth that you stand upon real? Is the morning sun real? And if it isn't, what then? Do you sit and wait for you to join the ashes? Are you real?
why thank you
"She reached out his hand" (18)
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