Victims To A World Of Crime

                                                                                          Short Story, by Courtnee D.

                                                                                                   Prologue

   The streets were busy, as usual. Moreover, the streets warm with the rotten smell of burned rubber. Someone was speeding again, and whoever it was had swerved directly into the big tree in front of me. The streetlights need fixing, as do the environment. Such a waste, that dreadful raise we call ‘humanity’. High-rise buildings and malls now rest where a beautiful, lush forest must have been. Somehow, people seem to admire that over a peaceful walk through nature. Materialism has gone too far to be ‘cured’, people seem to think they NEED their flat screen television sets, and their laptops as thin as paper. Dressers full of clothing they will probably only wear once. Ha, ironic isn’t it? God invented humanity to take care of the planet, and somehow I think Eve should never have eaten the apple, religions, Beliefs whatever you may wish to call it, have gone way farther than the natural aspect of God. In the oldest of days, people seen god as the ruler, the guider, the creator. Now, people only see ‘belief’ as a way of life. They say, “Do not do this, because then you will go to hell!” They created rules, laws, and ways to make society work better. You still see more and more murderers; rapists, thieves, and terrorists appearing, living, walking amongst you today. They do not care if they are hurting someone, because it makes them feel better, like they are powerful. This big mass of smog we call our world, is nothing but a black hole of depression and hatred, of murder and agony. Cures only make room for new disease, and disease will always bring forth new cures. It is life; and if life is REALLY worth living, why is there so much suicide? I will tell you why, because of how nasty things have gotten. Emotions have gotten so out of control that people seem to think violence is the only answer. The only way to cure anger is by causing pain to others. This world is going to hell, and we’re all going down with it.

It is 2012 now; the buildings have collided in a mass of destruction, reminding us of the terrors that killed many lives about three years ago. I, am a survivor. No one else, just me and my friend Sue. Of course, she is not real, but insanity usually kicks in about 2 years of seclusion. Well this is a different kind of seclusion. I wandered endlessly around the burning rubble that used to be my city. There, if you look closely, you can see the mess that was my house. Far enough under the rubble is my family, dead since the ‘incident’. They say you are always trying to avoid hell when you die, but I would now prefer that over this lifestyle. The loneliness, I am long past that now, I have searched years for sights of another survivor. No luck, and just more heart break.

Wandering the streets did give me time to think more into things. I met a man barely alive on the side of the road, I felt happy for once. However, there will be less food, and no more quiet in the air. I turned around and left him to die. I wish I never found him. Wouldn’t it have been better if we just took care of our planet? Now we suffer the apocalypse.