Stillborn World: Child

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Science Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
Another journal entry from the observer of the destroyed world.

Submitted: December 06, 2016

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Submitted: December 06, 2016

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I followed the man today, but found only tragedy. Rushing my way towards nothing but a general direction, I managed to find him at the top of another tall building. High ground was preferable for humans, but I wasn't quite sure why. Maybe the changes in the world were too sudden, so seeking high ground to overlook everything may be an instinctual reaction. Regardless of the reason, he was there. I sneaked up behind him, observing the little home that he presumably built for himself. It was made of rotting wood and decaying metals, but it was enough to protect from the occasional rain. No longer did they have to worry about the sun, as this new world is in a never-ending cycle of dusk and deep night.

 

He was sitting on the floor, crying as he gently cradled something covered in a small blanket. He took a look behind him, and saw me. This time, he didn't care about my presence at all."Just kill us already, you bastard", he said. He thought I was hostile because of my appearance. Understandable, really. "No, I'm not going to hurt you", I told him. He remained quiet as tears kept coming out of his eyes. Those bright, green eyes full of sadness. As I stepped closer to him, I saw what he was holding.

It was a child. Two years old, I'd say. A little girl with eyes half-opened, her life slowly fading into nothingness. She was dying, and it was because of her wounds. Yes, the man showed me her wounds. "Can you help her? Please help her...", he pleaded. I told him that no, I could do nothing. Much like him, I knew nothing of medical procedures, or anything of the sort. The girl had half of her face torn away, and her body had many deep cuts. She also had severe burns all over, and other wounds I care not to describe. It makes my heart ache just writing this. No, just remembering is enough to make me want to erase the memory forever. She died shortly after.

The man cried some more, his mind and body sinking deeper into the abyss of sadness. I could do nothing but try to comfort him with words, as I placed a hand on his shoulder. "You're not a bad guy after all, mister alien", he said to me. An "alien" like me could never truly understand the depths of that suffering, but it did reach me. Such a small child had no reason to be hurt like that. I couldn't possibly tell him that I knew what it felt like.

But he said something else, he told me: "You're not one of those monsters". Something else was actively hunting down the remaining humans. This worried me a great deal... and it still does. What is out there? "I'm not going to live here anymore, mister alien. My reason to stay here just went away. I'm going with her", he said, as he pointed a small barrel to his head.

This barrel was attached to some cylinder of sorts, and he held a trigger. I didn't notice it at the time, but it was one of the weapons humans used to defend themselves, or hurt each other. What I did see, however, was the man himself. He had short dirty blonde hair and was of relatively normal height. His body was slightly thin, but not malnourished. His skin was white, but not even close to being abnormally pale, like me. His eyes were bright green sometimes, as they seemingly changed color according to the light. Yes, his left eye was injured somehow as well, as I remember him keeping it half-closed at all times. He pulled the trigger, and ended his own life.

I may not be human, but I do feel. Without realizing it, I enclosed the body of the man and the young child in a black liquid that poured out of my hands. This liquid solidified, effectively trapping them inside black pods. I'm not sure why I did that, but I feel as if I can help these two, even in death. I may be able to bring them back somehow. I'm not sure why I feel this, but the feeling is there and must not be ignored.

For now, this tragic tale has given me some valuable information: the existence of hostile beings that hunt down humans, and possibly each other. I'm very nervous about what I may find, but I must continue. This "Mister Alien" has to walk down many paths, and observe what has happened. If I can, I'd like to help so that no more tragedies happen.


© Copyright 2019 Dave Davidson. All rights reserved.

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