Story #3 - The End of the World?

First, I'd like to thank everyone who read and commented on my second story. Your kind comments make me smile and give me the strength to keep this blog going! Second, this third story is pretty intense - just a warning. I wouldn't recommend it to any young children, it can get pretty dark! Also, I wrote this story in past tense, which I don't use a lot. I might've slipped into present tense on accident (if I did, please let me know!).

Disclaimer: I don't know anything about what would happen if an asteroid hit the earth, so this is not scientifically accurate. I also know very little about Tibet or Buddhism, so if I make any errors, I apologize.

Now for the story info!

Title: The End of the World As We Know It (again, I'd appreciate suggestions)
Warnings: Graphic imagery of death, bodies, injury, etc., a panic attack, the end of the world
Summary: The aftermath of an asteroid hitting the earth told by one of the few survivors.
Length: ~ 4,000 words
Notes: Third person point of view, past tense. Genre is sci-fi, I guess, because it's an apocalyptic story.

As usual, I'd really appreciate it if you would read my story and leave a comment. I hope you enjoy the story!

         

            The End of the World?

Sonam was outside when it happened. He was leaning down to tie his shoelaces, and when he looked up, he saw something in the sky, something rushing towards the earth. Sonam was dimly aware of the others in the village speculating about what it could be (a bird? a plane? aliens?), but just stood there, frozen in a crouch, staring at the – thing. It was bearing down fast, too fast. Maybe the thing was about to crash-land. Sonam heard the whispers change as the thing became closer and closer and more and more identifiable – meteor, meteor, meteor – and it snapped him out of his paralysis. He stood up and turned, frantically searching for Anil, but he was nowhere to be found. Sonam ran toward their house, hoping to find his parents and Anil and – what, warn them?

            The last thing he remembered was tripping and falling on the ground, and looking up at the clear blue sky in time to see the asteroid hit Tibet.

            The first thing Sonam was aware of was the silence. He couldn’t hear a thing. He brought his hands to his ears and felt something wet and sticky. He forced open his eyes and saw that it was blood. The asteroid must have punctured his eardrums. He lay on the ground for a while, gathering the strength (both physical and mental) to look around.

            The world was devastated. All of the buildings of his village were ruined, little more than scattered materials across a now-barren landscape. He half-expected to see the mountains all around his village flattened, but to his relief, they were still there. But they had not escaped unscathed – the snow that used to cover the mountains like a blanket had melted in the heat of the impact and the river was flowing again. Sonam closed his eyes, taking a break from the utter ruin of the world to listen to the music of the water.

            After maybe one second or maybe one hour, the water started to sound too much like tears and he sat up. Looking around, Sonam saw that he had somehow rolled (or been thrown) into a dip in one of the mountains. It would be hard to get out of, but it had probably saved his life.

            Two seconds or two hours later, he made it back out to the village, or what was left of it. Everywhere there were the remains of people that he knew – had known. He knew they should be given a proper burial but the holy men were all dead, too, and Sonam wasn’t qualified to help them. He wasn’t qualified to help anyone – he was only twelve years old!

            But maybe he could find someone who was qualified. Or at least someone who could help him make sense of what had just happened. He needed to find Anil and his mother and father. They would know what to do.

            On the walk to where his house used to be, Sonam lost track of everything. He lost track of how many times he wished that his house wasn’t on the completely other side from where he was (so he wouldn’t have to see what had become of his life). He lost track of how many bodies he saw. He lost track of all the buildings that had been torn down. He lost track of how many tears he cried. He lost track of himself.

            After three seconds or three hours, he finally made it to the remnants of his house. It was like a war zone. He nearly tripped over their old sofa, which was now charred and crumbling. Sonam windmilled his arms for balance, barely able to keep his footing.

            Their house wasn’t – hadn’t been – big, so his parents and Anil should be around here, unless they were thrown by the… blast? impact? asteroid? whatever. Even if they were – he should be able to see – something.

            “Please don’t be dead,” Sonam whispered. He wasn’t sure who he was talking to. His parents, Anil, the Buddha? All three? But it felt calming, anchoring to hear a human voice in the silence of the ruined world, even if that voice was his own. “I can’t be all alone.”

            He found his parents a minute or a year later. They had been together when the asteroid hit, maybe watching TV (they were so proud of their TV) or talking. Now they were together in death, two barely recognizable husks that used to be his parents. Parents that had loved him and read to him and had hopes and dreams for him and for themselves that would never happen now.

            Sonam broke down. He collapsed beside the bodies of his parents, lacking the strength to stay upright. He was sobbing so hard he could barely breathe and he kept on hearing these horrible, animalistic sounds. It took him a while to realize the keening sounds were coming from him.

            After two minutes or two years, Sonam pinched himself, waiting to wake up, because this couldn’t be real. This just didn’t happen. You didn’t lean down to tie your shoe one morning and look up and find out that the world ended while you were tying a knot.

            But a part of him knew that this was too realistic to be a dream. He couldn’t have thought half of these things up. He could never have imagined what someone would look like after being baked to a crisp and blasted by a sonic boom and – Stop, Sonam told himself firmly. This isn’t helping anything.

            He wasn’t sure whether it was a good thing or a bad thing that he hadn’t found Anil yet. He knew that hope could be a very dangerous emotion – but was it more dangerous to have hope or to lose it?

            He knew one thing – once you start hoping, it’s nearly impossible to stop. And he could tell by the tremulous feeling in his heart that he had begun to hope. It was time to find out just how dangerous his hope would be.

            Sonam climbed stiffly to his feet, casting one last glance at his parents. It was difficult to see them properly through his tears, but he told himself that was for the better. He wanted to remember them as they had been when they were alive, not as they were now (burnt and still and dead).

            Sonam walked away from his old house and didn’t look back.

            He found Anil trapped under some debris from the neighbor’s house. He must have been on his way back home when the asteroid hit. The debris probably offered him some cover and protected him from the worst of the effects.

            When Sonam found him, Anil was lying underneath rocks that must have made up part of the neighbor’s house. Sonam could see his shoes, one arm, and a lot of blood, but that was it. If there was a lot of blood then that was good, right? It meant he was alive.

            Sonam set to work clearing away the rocks, focusing on the weight of the rocks in his hand, the surprisingly cold feel of them, the sharp and dull edges, anything but the thought that he might be uncovering a dead person.

            After a day or a decade, Sonam had successfully uncovered Anil’s face and upper body, and only his legs were still trapped. Before working any further, Sonam forced himself to lean in and place his hand to his brother’s neck. He repeated a prayer mantra in the hope that it would help him find a pulse, even a weak one. To his immense relief, he felt one, fluttering but stronger than he expected. (Anil always was a survivor.)

            But he was unconscious right now, and it was up to Sonam to get them somewhere safe. (Safe from what? Sonam wondered. Radiation? More asteroids? Wild animals? Our own thoughts?) If he could just do that, Anil would wake up and take care of things and then everything would be fine – well, not fine, nothing could be fine when the world just ended – but everything would be better. But first, he had to get Anil out.

            Later, Sonam could never remember exactly how he did it, but he managed to get Anil free. Then, at a loss, he sat down on the ground, staring at his brother. Dust covered Anil. His hair and skin were completely white with the dust and there was dust caked in his clothes. But regardless of his appearance, Sonam took comfort in watching the steady rise and fall of Anil’s chest.

            “Wake up, brother,” Sonam whispered, but Anil did not respond.

            Sitting next to his unconscious brother, surrounded by the wreck of what he used to call home, Sonam realized how exhausted he was. He could feel the blood drying around his ears and he knew that he was just as dusty as Anil, but he couldn’t be bothered to do anything about it. It’s not like there was anyone alive to scold him for his lapse in hygiene.

            Sonam curled up next to his brother, listening to the steady beat of Anil’s heart. It worked better than counting sheep and he was asleep within seconds.

            “Brother! Sonam, are you okay? Are you hurt?”

            Sonam awoke to the sound of Anil’s worried voice. He opened his eyes slowly. A blurry form hovered in front of him and a hand was on his shoulder, shaking him. It was dark.

            “Anil,” Sonam said, surprised by how hoarse his voice was. He sat up, rubbing his eyes in an effort to get rid of the blurriness. But as his mind began to wake up, he realized that it wasn’t his vision that was the problem. The whole world was dusty. A quick glance to the sky confirmed his suspicion – the sky was a sort of pale brown and he could barely see the sun. It could be any time of the day, and they had no way of knowing.

            “What happened, Sonam?” Anil asked frantically. Sonam could barely see his eyes glinting in the dim light. Anil was sitting cross-legged in front of Sonam and he was holding one arm awkwardly, like it hurt. But maybe he just… felt like… holding his arm like that.

            “A meteor hit the Earth,” Sonam answered.

            Anil stared at him open-mouthed, and Sonam somehow found himself smiling. “I know it sounds ridiculous,” he said. “But I saw it coming. I saw it hit the ground.”

            Anil whistled. “Wow,” he breathed. “I can’t believe I missed it.”

            In the face of Anil’s amazement, all the humor bled out of the situation. The asteroid was not something amazing. “T-They’re all d-dead,” Sonam said, choking on the words. “Tara, K-Kitsi, Jigme, m-mother and f-father…”

            He heard Anil suck in a breath. Sonam covered his face with his hands, ashamed of his weakness but also so glad to have Anil with him. Anil always took care of him. Anil sometimes did Sonam’s chores for him so that he could finish reading his book, or get a chance to talk to Ketu, the healer. Anil’s catchphrase was, “You’re my brother. I may not understand you, but I love you.” Anil would take care of him.

            Sonam managed to compose himself after a few seconds (or hours). He lifted his face from his hands to see Anil looking around, presumably taking in the devastation that the asteroid had wrecked on their home. Sonam didn’t bother to mirror his brother’s actions. He knew what it looked like, or more accurately, what it didn’t look like. It didn’t look like home. Not anymore.

            “What are we going to do, brother?” Sonam asked, his voice wavering, a sob threatening to escape despite his best efforts.

            Anil turned to Sonam, his expression determined and fierce. “We have to leave. We’ll gather all the supplies we can and leave. I hate to go without giving all of our kin and everyone a proper burial, but there’s nothing we can do for them and there’s nothing here for us anymore. We need to see how widespread the effects of this asteroid are. If we can find other people…”

            Anil trailed off, but Sonam nodded in understanding. Anil thought that they needed to find grown-ups to help them. Sonam wasn’t sure if he agreed (Anil was fifteen and he could do anything), but if Anil was going than so was Sonam.

            “Come on,” Anil said. “We should get going now. The sooner we get going, the sooner things can get back to normal – or at least get better.”

            “Okay.” Sonam gingerly levered himself to his feet, surprised to find how achy and tired he was. He turned around to find Anil struggling to stand up with only one arm. Sonam could ignore the obvious no longer, and he blurted out, “Is your arm broken?”

            Anil looked up at him, and Sonam could see the exact moment when he decided to drop his characteristic tough act and tell the truth. Something in his expression cleared up and he said, “I think my shoulder’s dislocated.”

            At least this Sonam could help with. He knew a lot about healing from the books he had read and the times when he had visited with the Ketu.

            “Stay here,” Sonam said. “I’m going to look for Ketu’s tent and see if there are any herbs left that I can give you.”

            “What for?”

            Sonam hesitated. “To numb the pain,” he said eventually. “For when I pop your shoulder back into place.”

            Anil’s skin turned pale enough to match the dust covering it, but he nodded.

            “I’ll see you soon,” Sonam said, and left to find the herbs.

           

            Anil was sitting in the exact same place as Sonam had left him when he got back. Sonam walked over and crouched down next to his brother with a serious expression. “This is going to hurt,” he said. “But it won’t be so bad if you chew these up.”

            He handed Anil a few leaves that had somehow survived the asteroid. Anil stuffed them in his mouth and swallowed them hurriedly. “Just get it over with, please,” he said.

            “Okay,” Sonam said, keeping his voice quiet and soothing. “I’m going to take your arm and I’m going to pull on the count of three, okay?”

            Anil nodded, his eyes squeezed shut, his fingers gripping the dirt. He twitched when Sonam took hold of his arm but managed to suppress his whimper. At least no one would be around to hear him scream.

            “One…” Sonam said. “Two…” On two, he snapped Anil’s shoulder back into place.

            Anil let out a bloodcurdling scream and slumped back against a pile of rocks. After breathing harshly for a moment, his narrowed eyes found Sonam’s and he frowned. “Why didn’t you wait unill three?”

            Sonam shrugged, unrepentant (although he hated to cause Anil pain). “Ketu always said that the anticipation is the worst part when you put a dislocated limb back in its socket. I thought I’d save you some of the anticipation.”

            Anil shook his head, but he was smiling fondly. “You’re my brother,” he said. “I may not understand you, but I love you.”

            Sonam just smiled.

            In the morning (or what they assumed was the morning because it was still dark and cold but it had been a while), they set out. They each carried knapsacks that they had found unharmed. In them were food, water, medical supplies, and everything they could find that they thought they might need. (It’s not like anyone else needed their things anymore.) Sonam also carried some books and a statue that their parents had loved, but he wasn’t going to tell Anil about those items. Anil would think they were useless extra weight and make him throw them away.

            Sonam had never been out of the village before, but Anil had gone with their father on a trip to visit an acquaintance in a nearby village a while ago. Anil claimed that he could remember that way, and Sonam hoped that was true. If it wasn’t, he didn’t know what they would do.

            It was almost fun, walking with his brother on an expedition to somewhere he had never been before. But every time he managed to trick himself into thinking that this was all for their entertainment, just because they felt like it, something would remind him of the truth. Whether it was the absolute lack of any greenery or the scorched earth or the stupidly strong post-apocalyptic (hah) winds, something would throw itself at his face and remind him.

            More and more he found himself battling with a crippling fear that they would find nothing (or worse, more bodies and destruction) when they got to the other village. Sometimes the terror would be so strong that he couldn’t move, and Anil would have to take his hand and coax him forward. Other times he woke up sweating and staring up at the dark (always dark) starless sky, the sky that had suddenly become a lot more ominous and dangerous than it had been Before the Asteroid.

            Sonam didn’t understand how Anil could stay so strong, but it was a good thing he did. What would they do if they both broke down? So instead it was just little Sonam, crying about nothing and flinching at things that weren’t there (but could be, could be in just a few seconds).

            They made it to the village in a couple days (or a few decades). Anil didn’t warn him when they were getting close, maybe because he didn’t know or maybe because he knew Sonam wouldn’t be able to go forward if he knew they were almost there. Sonam nearly bumped into Anil when he suddenly stopped. While he got his bearings, Anil dashed forward, but Sonam couldn’t move. He could only stare.

            Bodies. Human and animals remains, nearly indistinguishable. The smell of burning. Ruined houses lying in shreds. Weird, grotesque structures still standing – a computer here, a fireplace there.

            This village didn’t look any different from his home. It was just as destroyed, just as empty, just as useless.

            Sonam swayed a little, stepping back blindly. His heart rate increased and he started breathing in short, panicky bursts. He tried to turn and run but something rooted him to the spot. It was like the mountains surrounding him had anchored themselves to his feet and to his lungs and they wouldn’t let go. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t see (he didn’t want to see). Sonam fell to his hands and knees and leaned over, retching. After a year or a century, Sonam rolled over and found himself staring at what was left of this other village, this promise that had never been a promise at all.

            He couldn’t see where Anil had gone. Anil had left him. Maybe Anil was one of the bodies lying down there, burnt and gruesome and dead. He was all alone in this world that wasn’t even a world anymore and he couldn’t breathe and he couldn’t see and he couldn’t even cry.

            The last thing he remembered was trying to make his voice work to call for his mother, for Anil, for anyone, and then everything blissfully faded away.

            Sonam awoke to the sound of quiet sobbing. Confused, he sat up, wondering why anyone would be crying. Life was good! They had all become millionaires! He had finally become a doctor, a world-famous doctor, and –

            Oh.

            Wait.

            That had just been a dream.

            The real world was the asteroid, the death, the terror.

            Sonam took a few deep, shuddering breaths, preparing himself for this new reality. Sometimes dreams could be the cruelest things in the world.

            The sobbing hitched and then abruptly cut off as the mourner realized that Sonam was awake. But Sonam could still hear some muffled sobs. Who could it be? Wait a minute – he and Anil were the only ones here. And then meant –

            “Anil?”

            It had to be Anil who was crying. It had to be, as unbelievable as that was. Anil never cried. Anil was strong. Anil didn’t even cry when he dislocated his shoulder or when Sonam popped it back in. Sonam had been beginning to suspect Anil didn’t even have tear ducts but now – now Anil was crying and that more than anything else made Sonam realize how utterly wrong this not-world was.

            “Yes?” Anil replied with a sniff, and, sure enough, he was crying.

            “Oh, Anil,” Sonam whispered, flooded by a sudden urge to cry himself. But now it was his turn to be strong for Anil. He scooted to where Anil was hunched over and put an arm around his brother’s shoulders.

            “Do you want to talk about it?” Sonam asked after a brief pause.

            Anil laughed bitterly. “What’s there to talk about? The world is over. Everyone we’ve ever known is dead. And when I allowed myself to hope that maybe this asteroid only wiped out our village – which is ridiculous, the asteroid that killed all the dinosaurs wiped out dinosaurs all around the globe, not just dinosaurs where the asteroid hit – when I allowed myself to hope that there’s a chance, it turns out I’m wrong. I’m so sorry, Sonam. I never should have dragged you all the way out here. I know you didn’t want to go and you were right, I was so stupid…” He broke into sobs again, and Sonam could only rub his back soothingly as he tried to come up with an adequate answer.

            The thing was, Anil was right. Everyone was dead and those who weren’t would soon die. But instead of falling into despair, Sonam rallied himself for his brother. You have to be strong, he told himself again and again, repeating it like a prayer mantra. You have to be strong.

“You’re right,” Sonam admitted to Anil. “But that doesn’t mean we should stop trying. We survived – other people must have survived, too. We can’t be the only ones. And once we find other people, we can, I don’t know, rebuild society or something…”

            “Rebuild society?” Anil asked, raising his eyebrows as he turned to Sonam. “That’s a tough thing to do.”

            “Maybe we can rebuild it better,” Sonam said stubbornly. Anil laughed and ruffled his brother’s hair.

            “Thanks, Sonam,” he whispered, wiping his eyes. Sonam nodded, but he was lost in thought. He still couldn’t believe that his strong brother had broken down and cried, but even more, he couldn’t believe that he hadn’t broken down right along with Anil. Just an hour or a day ago he was having a panic attack in this exact spot, and now here he was comforting his big brother.

            “Sonam, look!” Anil exclaimed after a moment, pointing into the distance. Sonam peered over in the direction where Anil was pointing and furrowed his brow. All he saw was a ruined village. Which he didn’t want to see again.

            “What?” Sonam asked, a little annoyed. “I don’t see anything.”

            “Wait ‘till it moves,” Anil said quietly.

            Sonam’s curiosity got the better of him and he waited, careful not to move too much. Eventually (a second a minute an hour a day a year), he saw something darting in between the debris, heading toward some yak meat that had fallen out of someone’s pantry.

            “It’s a fox,” Anil said, his voice wondering and reverent.

            Sonam found himself smiling so wide he was worried his face would break in half. “How about that,” he said. “It survived the asteroid.”

            Anil was smiling too. He looked at his little brother with shining eyes, and this time they weren’t shining with tears. This time they were shining with rekindled, dangerous but life-saving hope.

            “If the fox survived, other things must have survived too. You’re right again, Sonam.”

            Sonam looked at Anil, his brother, who had stayed strong while Sonam was falling and who in his fall had given Sonam the strength he needed.

            “The world isn’t over,” his big brother said with a grin.

            “The world isn’t over,” Sonam repeated.

            To his surprise, he found himself believing what he said.