Apocalypse

Gentle breeze, rustling up the resting dried leaves in the cold midnight autumn air, whooshing, whispering, talking in words that she didn't understand. Dried brown grass waved as the air brushed through them as if rejoicing in reunion, rejoicing in the hushed whispers. She could also hear the mist slowly lingering in the air, uniting with all those in it, slowly yet masterfully settling on the dried grass, and on the earth, dampening it, getting absorbed, inhaled. Far as she could see the shades of browns stretched, like they existed not because they had to but because they enjoyed it. The browns, beautiful yet boring, living yet on the verge of death.

The point where the brown ended at the horizon, started an immense black. Black so deep stretching infinitely like it loved being black, like it loved being dark, beautiful and charming and knew that nobody would discriminate against it for being black and it would be proud because it contained beauty carried gracefully with pride. Someone masterfully placed tiny lights up there, like freckles on the skin and they shone, some blinking, some meeting in groups and some alone dying. Where the dark clouds in the sky didn’t linger they shone, playing hide and seek every now and then. They didn't smile for the onlooker but for themselves, the way how people should have learnt to live.

Where was this all this time? She thought, slightly disappointed but yet happy.

“I have stared up so many times, lying in the same place, staring up at the same sky and all those times you hid this masterpiece from me with those dirty clouds that made you seem more grey than black.” She chided looking up. They winked back at her.

“Wink at me all you want, but I still hate you.” Playfully she laced the hatred in her voice though not meaning even an ounce of her own lie.

Small croaks and small screeches, the sounds she had tuned out, she now paid attention. They sounded close to her but she didn't jump away. Neither did she have to. She suddenly remembered good old Ol' MacDonald. She had always felt weird for remembering all her childhood rhymes but this was always her favourite, and her mother used to sing to her whenever they had a picnic outside, when the grass was still green, the clouds were white and the sky pale blue.

"Ol' MacDonald had a farm ee i ee i oh!

And in his farm he had a frog ee i ee i oh!

And a croak croak here and a croak croak there,

Here a croak there a croak everywhere a croak croak", she sang at the top of her voice, her pitch and teh tune completely off and jumped on all fours like a frog would do. She stood up, a giant wave of laughter bursting through her. She cackled the air taking her voice as far as it could reach. And it waved along with the grass and leaves as if they found her funny. She was happy and her smile was broad and warm in the cold night that even the stars seemed to smile back at her as they twinkled mischievously.

---

The landscape of brown was not all brown like you would see in the first glance. If you notice intently you could see tiny wisps of green sprouting fresh. The earth declared dead seemed like it was coming alive. Eyes closed he inhaled the air, feeling yet not feeling at the same time. He could see the stars, not with a telescope from inside his home but outside, stargazing straight up at them like he did years ago when he was small. It was beautiful like fairy lights, only they would never go out, obscured maybe but never out. He stood looking at grass, and he yearned to touch them, feel them in his fingers. He walked through them like the breeze, slowly, lightly, effortlessly.

The only tall tree stood bare naked, its leaves all dead on the ground turning brown and wilting away as tiny fragments, decomposing in the mud. He saw beauty in them when everyone had given up so early. These people of earth who were born here, but abandoned their homes when things got difficult.

“You didn't even try and see beauty in this chaos. You didn't even hope for it to get better. You gave up!” He thought, his fury rising.

The breeze carried the gentle voice, the voice he loved dissipating the cloud of anger he felt for people. And with the voice came the rhyme. He snorted, when the rhyme made sense to him. She was weird, but her weirdness matched his. And when he heard the croak croak in the old MacDonald, he smiled. He walked through the dusty way that wasn't used for ages. He walked towards the voice, her voice. The voice sounded a little high pitched like how it does when she was excited and her shrill laughter floated through the air. It was beautiful to him. His melody. He wouldn't say that to her of course.

He saw her, her back faced to him and he could see through her like she was a mist, a layer of thin mist. Her beauty seemed amplified for she looked ethereal like she belonged not of earth but of heaven. Her read dress stood out in the land of neutrals and she was glowing surreally. The dress curved around her figure, fitted till her waist and flowing down below stopping just at her mid thigh. She was beautiful. Transparent or not.

She turned, looking at him, staring up at his face, eyeing his red t-shirt and his old worn out pair of jeans.

"If anybody else could hear you, I think their heart will shatter into a million pieces like glass. And there would be so many broken hearts because of your voice." She turned away as if in anger and he could see the flicker of a smile playing in the corner of her lips. He walked towards her taking her hand in his, holding her, leading her.

The black building stood in the middle of the barren land. He doubted plants could grow on that bare ground as it looked dead. The ruins of it stood untouched and dust piling up inside making home. They stood there silently staring. The drain pipe at the side was leaking gas into the air. And she peaked at it to see an iridescent colour almost like a rainbow. She smiled. He followed her line of sight and he smiled too, his grip on her hand tightening.

“So many beautiful things we've seen tonight. It is like all this beauty was just for our eyes, for us to see and rejoice. They appeared for no one but just us. Those people wouldn't have been able to see any of this beauty. I feel pity for them for we are able to see and cherish all of this.” She smiled a little sadness making way to the smile.

He watched her, her eyes crinkling and her smile widening. He hugged her, arms around her winding tight and assuring. He was comforting her wordlessly, promising and soothing. And neither did he have to, for his presence gave her more comfort than any words could have.

They walked some more, dried grass turning into dusty roads, dusty roads turning into smaller streets. The streets looked polished, streets that nobody walked on, streets where tracks of vehicles have been covered by the dust that settled for ages. If one could say this is how a post apocalyptic world would look like, one could say this is. The houses looked like a colony, all uniform, bland white on the outside, with large french windows. If you look closely you might notice the rubberised door and window edges.

The insides look untouched, pristine and grave. The silence was the only noise inside while the outside was filled with chaos, dust, air and leaves. They were contrasting and contradicting - outside was life and inside it was void, outside there was chaos, inside serenity, outside dark and inside white. It was ironic, how the inside though serene was the only place life could have existed and the outside that was chaotic was dead, lifeless.

The breeze blew as they walked. They stood in front of one of the white buildings. This building stood out, its door ajar and the only building which was. The beauty of outside had found a way inside too. Dust settling on all the surfaces making the pristine interiors seem chaotic. It was beautiful, like life was trying to thrive in this void.

They slowly walked up to the rooftop, touching every surface they could, yet not touching, feeling yet not. Stars still blinked above and below on the rooftop laid two bodies. One clad in a red t-shirt and the other in a red dress, the girl had her head on the boy's shoulder, and the boy had his arm around her, protectively. Right next to them lay two vacuum suits discarded, dust eating its way in, disintegrating the suit, claiming it with the dead nature. Suits that could have given life to take them away a little later.

The couple laid peacefully like they were stargazing, eyes wide open. They laid still and dust settled around them, they laid still as the wind wooshed picking up her dress as if playing with it and laying it back as it left. They laid eyes open wide, smiling, silent, bodies unmoving, not breathing. They laid there, uncaring, happy, content and dead! Right above their heads they stood, holding hands, smiling wider than they did on the floor. They stood in the wind like mist, transparent yet existent, alive yet dead. Enjoying the Earth and the beauty it held.

---

The announcement had come, they were all to evacuate Earth. Scientists and politicians decided that the atmosphere was too harmful to breathe. Earth was beyond salvation they decided. Everyone decided to move into another planet in another solar system. Take just the necessities they said. They didn't understand that Earth in itself was a necessity.

I taught the kids how earth was our planet, now that there's life at stake, I am chasing behind that hope. I am not staying here to die and neither are the kids. They would be here in five minutes and I hope the kids are ready. I rush downstairs to find four of them assembled in the hallway.

"Amena!" I screamed. Always late she was, I thought to myself as I walked up her room. One thing was missing other than Amena, her vacuum suit.

"AMENA!" I Screamed. I knew what this meant, and I paled as I laid down on the floor. My husband is walking up the stairs looking at me, he knows it in his gut.

"We have to get out, we need to take the others! I hope the girl doesn't regret her decision" he said as he pulled me off the floor.

I don't remember how I got into the shuttle, it was like my mind and body were disoriented. My baby! I have taught her wrong things and now she will die because of me. My husband was talking to one of the authorities stalling the shuttle but in vain. As the shuttle took off I could see two figures in their vacuum suits, on a dusty playground, staring up at us, waving a goodbye.