I Survived 2176 (Short Story Part One)

Rip, crash, bang. Split. Crack. Boom. Pitter. Patter. Sizzle. Thump. Family. Gone. Death. Sad. Angry. Confused. Alone. Done. With. World.

I sat in the corner of an old alley and watched millions of buildings fall down to the Earth's dismay, to God's anger. Earthquakes split open pavement and homes; rain pelts me and the roofs of many abandoned buildings; lightning lights up the dark, grey skies of the mid afternoon; water from previous floods pools around my feet and runs down empty streets. Abandoned cars slide left and right as the Earth tilts every which way. Bits of hardened lava chunks lay on the sidewalks, the streets, the crumpled down houses. And the most mollifying part: Dead. Human. Bodies.

Everywhere.

Does it sound like the end of the world yet? If it does, then that's because it is. Who would've ever guesed that year 2176 would be the end? I know I didn't. There was talk about it amongst my family, but I never thought too much of it. Even my little sister knew about it before I did. I was the least prepared. And I am still the only one who lives through it.

My family seemed pretty content on keeping me alive, as opposed to Kaylee, my nine year old sister, or Mason, my fifteen year old cousin. Even my best friend, Layla, was in on the conspiracy. She died right along with my family and pets, set on saving me and not her own family. Though there was really nothing she could do about her parents; they were away on a business trip in Vegas. But because of all the sacrifices my loved ones made for me, I am slumped like a wet sack of potatoes in the middle of chaos, practically on the verge of pneumonia and starvation.

If it weren't for the health kit I found sometime last week, I would have been dead a long time ago. Yes, I have been surviving the end of the world for five, going on six, days now. And I'm sick of it. I haven't yet noticed a single soul cross my path. Which terrifies me, because I don't want to be the only person left on Earth. In fact, this very thought sends a shudder of loneliness down my spine everytime I think it. As the Earth begins to tilt to the left (I am cramped up against the right side of the ally at the moment) I glance around, trying to find something stable for me to hold on to. I spot a wooden pole with a handy little grip on the end sticking out of the wall of an old building. After slinging my backpack over my shoulders, I scurry over to it, grabbing on just as the world tilts almost to the point where I am practically standind on air. I sigh and am just about to shift hands when I hear a crack and feel pebbles and dust rain down on my head. I look up and notice an elongating crack spreading out around the pole. A worried expression washes over my face because I don't care that it is the middle of the end for all of mankind; I don't want to die.

As I think this, the crack is almost at a full circle, so I close my eyes and brace myself for the death that is sure to come. But instead, the Earth rights herself and truns horizontal again, and right as the pole breaks free from the brick wall, too. I land with a thud against the littered ground, getting the wind knocked out of me for a few seconds too long in the process. I scramble up to my legs, which is a pretty arduous task, because I was laying in a puddle. After I was somewhat stable on my legs, I brush away most of the glass and debris that accumulated on my clothes the past few days. This was the first time I am able to "clean" myself. I haven't even had access to any form of sink, bath, or shower since all this began. Before now, I had the luxery of taking showers every day. And right now, not so much.

After I finish brushing myself off, I check the alley for anything that may be of worth or importance. I decide that the wooden pole will be good for a fire after it dries out. When I leave the alley, I head west towards my house -or what's left of it, anyways- a place I haven't seen since the beginning of all this. During my venture, I pass by the grocery store, the flower shop, a Little Caesar's and a Starbucks. The grocery store reminds me of shopping with my mom and sister. The flower shop reminds me of my dad, because he'd always take me there to buy my mother flowers on her birthday, anniversary, or on any random day to show her he loves her. Little Caesar's reminds me of the long trips my cousin and I would make just to buy a couple of sodas and a large pizza to go. And Starbucks brings back halting memories of my friends, because that was the venue we chose for afternoon sugar highs and vigorous birthday parties. Oh how I miss those days.

At last, I reach my empty shell of a house. I choke on the dirty air, tears threatening to spill from my eyes. The only thing left from my home is the chimney, which towers high above the heaping piles of rubble. And hanging from the very top of it, beams a cross with a little carving of Jesus fashioned to it. I gasp, stumbling backwards, until I finally fall on to my butt. A cloud of dirt and dust billows up around me, causing me to start caughing painfully. I flap my hands in front of my face, trying to clear a hole in the dust cloud. I want to take another look at the cross -I could've sworn the fireplace had fallen over onto my parents- but the little cloud would just not clear out. Finally, I manage to disipate enough dirt and dust to have a peak at the chimney. But instead, there's a big pile of brick and cement scattered over the piles of junk, but they weren't there before. Also, I can't seem to find the cross anywhere. Where did it come from, anyways? I don't remember my parents ever hanging it. I gasp when the reality of all this hits me.

This isn't just the end of the world. But I missed the rapture.