In the early 21st century, some little thing sparked the End. It having been such a long time ago, it is impossible to pinpoint exactly what that little thing was, but it makes no difference; the end results were all the same.
Fingers were pointed unceasingly at each other and, following each accusation, bloodshed traveled.
Land was seized by constant war and death, countries waging war on impulse. Billions died in the raging gunfire, and soon the last ones left were a small island in the northern Pacific. The island was a small but noticeable colony of survivors: New Guinea. Having been divided into two nations was no good when they were the only ones left on the world, and as they realized that, the barrier between the two nations was severed. Almost inevitably, however, fighting broke out, as it did everywhere in the small spots of humanity left in all the madness.
Soon, the only ones who were left on most of Earth were peacemakers, and the scientists of Antarctica.
Through the many years as the fighting wore down, numbers rapidly dwindled to a threatening one thousand. Even with this hanging over their heads like an already made noose, Antarctica and New Guinea maintained contact.
The world was practically empty by 2240.
Knowing that there was nothing for them to return to, the Antarctica scientists loaded up their equipment and such and headed off to New Guinea.
Global warming was put on an abrupt halt as cars and factories were abandoned.
In fact, many of the guns used in the End of the World War had bullets made up of an Amazon plant, called the Rohm's plant, which actually helped repair the ozone layer. Steadily, for the course of a hundred and twenty years, the ozone layer built itself up again.
But that was one of the few relieves. Races were wiped out, continents completely cleared. People fled as fast as possible to small islands, where it was apparent that nobody really started a fight with. If there was anyone to fight anymore.
Technology declined rapidly; there were only few tools that would work since most of the human race had been killed off. Guns were discarded by the last remaining colony of peacemakers, and they vowed never to return again to the lands of death.
They built ports and ships to sail across the world in, to reach out to other small islands of survivors as well.
Hawaii was among the most heavily populated island due to its natural alluringness, and for a few hundred years, numbers rose slowly.
When the human race had revived itself up to a million again, more ports were built on mainland, where everything in sight was bluntly burned down to the ground.
Any trace of their ending was erased forever.
Fear fled them soon after 2400.
We can't go back to our ways of war, they agreed silently. The world cannot end like that again.
They taught their children only of peace, of love among brothers.
While, in the back of their hearts, they feared they would grow greedy and wage another war on the peacemakers.
They were surely doomed if that were to happen.
Peace became a simple thing to believe in again. It was actually possible. Now that all the greedy, selfish leaders had died off in the End of the World War, the world could become united again.
The ports grew bigger and bigger off the islands, until Hawaii reached the coast of South America, and then they stopped. And from there they reached slowly, but still reaching, towards Mexico.
America was untouched.
Ports became the only thing everyone cared of now; they sprang up right and left.
Technology had died off like the war wagers, so they could only communicate orally now.
Shipbuilding became second knowledge, and soon boats ran across the world, from Hawaii to New Guinea, the original Peace land.
Antarctica became an animal reserve, and the scientists of centuries past left it alone as the ozone layer built up again.
Fate has punished our race again, they told each other. And now we are left to try again and rebuild it. Weapons will not exist in our community besides what we need to hunt with, and we will do right what has been done wrong.
And it worked.
After a while, though, the small nations—grouped together to be known as the Reason—grew tired of traveling the world to see each other and stock up on supplies to spread across Earth.
Soon Hawaii turned distant and left the Reason.
And New Guinea.
The Reason fell apart at the seams, and everyone was left by themselves again.
This is Earth in the year 2650.
First story I ever, ever wrote, so I apologize in advance if it seems choppier than everything else. Feedback is extremely appreciated!