THE LAST ONE
The darkness had come and gone. The end of the world was over.
I picked my way through the rubble, my pale skin greedily absorbing the sunlight that it had been missing for the past year and a half. So far I hadn't seen any other survivors-but I couldn't be the only one left, could I?
I was right and wrong.
I had finally stumbled across someone: a white-haired boy slumped on the stone ruins of what was once a bustling bridge.
I gasped when my eyes first alighted upon him, for his visage pierced my soul with the oddest feeling. I felt as if would do anything to make him happy. Anything.
He was so beautiful, so pure, so innocent that I wanted to weep-an angel if there ever was one. Yet he was so utterly sad and defeated. I could just see the mutilated shadows of his broken wings.
"What's wrong?" I called out, my voice raspy from months of disuse.
He turned and I doubled over, his flawless features too lovely to look at. I fell to my knees, bowing my head as the tears flowed freely from my eyes.
"Won't you look at me?" he asked softly, sorrowfully, hopelessly.
"I can't, I can't," I sobbed.
He sighed and I heard him rise from his position, his wings dragging over the ground. I glanced up just enough to see his shadow moving towards me. I was filled with ecstasy, with desperation. I needed his acknowledgement, his approval. For what, I didn't know. I just needed it.
He stood in front of me. I couldn't look up and remained sobbing into the dirt.
"There's no one left, you know," he whispered, his voice a cadence of the wind.
We are still here, I thought, but my throat was too choked with emotion to form the words.
"Ah yes, that's right," he said with some surprise. "We are still here."
It was as if he had read my mind.
"But not for long. I must leave soon and I will take you with me."
"Yes, take me, take me with you!" I cried fervently. I tried to crawl towards him, to be closer to him.
"Stop," he commanded abruptly. "Stop it."
"Stop what?" I tried to say, but I found that I couldn't. My throat had sealed itself, my lungs had caved in, my eyes were blind. I couldn't think, I couldn't breathe, and all was perfect.
I fell weakly to the ground and twitched as my brain shut down and my heart followed it into darkness. My last thoughts were of a faceless mourning angel.
"Oh, not again," said the boy, the wind ruffling his white hair and revealing two tiny horns. His wings slowly spread open, bending naturally at awkward angles. He looked down at the lifeless body before him, his eyes devoid of emotion, but his voice filled with the utmost sorrow. "There goes the last one."
A/N: Hey guys! Just a quick little idea I had. Loosely based off "broken wings" and "post-apocalypse" (mostly the second one, as you can see). Enjoy!
Write on. Read on. That's my motto.
© Copyright 2012 by The Siege