And an Impossible Ending

Disney World, an amazing place for children and adults alike, but when you’re standing at the gates and a plan comes in, bombing your childhood, you can’t do anything but curl up into a ball and sob. That was my feeling, sitting here all alone unsure whether or not it was worth opening my eyes another day because I knew what the scenery was. Nothing new, same old burnt walls, dirt floor, and black sky.

Opening my eyes, I realized my Disney World would never come again. The sky was no longer blue, but deep shades of grey and black. Haze consumed the air –no, it didn’t infect the air, it was the only air. The thick smog made it almost impossible to see anything more than a few feet away. Along with the dark ‘clouds’ and haze, explosions set off around the town every few hours, breaking bones and killing civilians.

Never would peace be found in this forsaken world! I am no longer able to see the sun peaking over the eastern horizon or let the stars rain over my sleeping eyes.

Pulling myself up, I continued to stare up at the gray mask nothing had changed.

“Isabella! Isabella!” voice called from beyond my small shack.

I sighed.

Rushing through the opening, known as my door, two children, dressed in rags, came to me, gasping for air.

“Isabella,” they stammered together, “Ralphie, he’s sick!”

Once more, I sighed, only, this time, I strolled alongside the wall, feeling for a small crack. Soon, I felt the opening and slid the hidden door open to a small compartment building into the construction. Inside were dozens of bottles and tubes, color-coated and labeled.

After grabbing the small brown tote, the children and I hurried outside. Around us, piles of bodies were curled up, decomposing atop one another, holes stapled into the ground, and homes scattered upon the mounds of rotting corpses and gravel.

“Come, come!” they urged me to hasten.

Noticing they were no longer in front of me, I darted my eyes around, trying to focus in on them. Through the fog, it was unfeasible to see them. With a wave of my hand –distancing me from the fog- their bodies silhouetted in front of me.

We grabbed each other and tried not to stumble over the human remains.

Arriving at out destination, a few minutes later, coughs echoed around me. There was no sign of protection, a shack or even a blanket to help Ralphie’s lungs avoid the smoky air. Reaching into my bag, I pulled out a scarf to cover the young boy’s mouth from anymore of the horrific vapor to elapse into his mouth.

Squinting, I observed the sounds of his cough, and his movements. There weren’t any signs of physical damage, and I asked multiply questions, making sure he fully understood what was going on around him.

“Is he okay?” the little girl –Amelia- who retrieved me asked.

Weary, I nodded. Taking out a capsule and small bottle of russet-colored water, I popped the pill into Ralphie’s mouth and allowed him to swallow.

Startled by the liquid, Ralphie choking a bit, his coughs coming worse than before.

“Since his lungs are weak,” I began, “it may take some time, the medicine, that is, to take effect.” Brushing the dirt off my torn blue jeans, I looked back down at the blurry picture: a helpless young boy with no food or water, stranded in a world of death and despair, and his only hope to keep living is to see the next day, and the day after, waiting for peace… but it all seems impossible.

With the smiling, approving face of Amelia and Edward –the other child who came for me- I began home.

The strong odor of rotting flesh flushed over my nose, singing my nostrils.

Not much had changed the past six months, everyday was the same: waking up to the sound of crashes, only to be too weak to stand. And, all the smog around you clouds your vision, disabling you to walk out of you home – your shack.

War has plagued this colony for so long, leaving all the children to never know the warmth of the sun or love of their families.

Blinking back tears, I continued to make my way across the sandy roads.

Stopping, my bag thumped against the dirt as my hand met my mouth. A warm liquid burst through my fingers and all down the front of my frayed blouse.

Hacking, I fell to my knees. Staring down at the beige dirt, I coughed again, this time staining Earth with spit and blood.

I could do nothing but laugh at my life’s irony – being the only doctor in the village and dying from the disease I’d prolonged for so long.

I made no effort for my bag; there was no point in it now. Death was upon me, and I’d been expecting it.

Rolling on my back, I felt the blood lodge in my throat

Cough, cough.

This is the end, I though to myself.

Closing my eyes, I remembered the thrill of Disney World, and how amazing it had mad my childhood. Then, I saw the face of my little boy, dying from the poison gases he’d inhaled after the bombing.

Awful childhood, awful memories. Soon, it’d be over.

There I lay, waiting for death to come and claim me.

A/N: short, i know. but, i think this is one of the best stories i've written in a while! haha, i want to know what you all think, so please, review.