The Weight Of Our Mistakes

July 14, 2050

I am not the reason I'm the last one here. I am not at fault for this. Yet I am the last human being in this universe. Everyone else? Well, the plague wiped out the entire human population overnight. Except me, that is. Am I immune? Special? Abnormal? A freak? None of these I can answer. All I can do is stare at the empty city. Country. World. And wonder: WHY? WHY ME? The once glimmering, busy city now looks like a scene right out of wall-E. The sun doesn't shine. Plants don't grow. Life is obliterated to its bleakest extent. What am I going to do? What exactly am I supposed to do? Sure as hell the answer is not stand here. There's no one out there, it seems. I've searched and searched. Sent out messages to whatever and whoever might receive them. I trek the rugged remains of my repair shop. If only I had a tool that could repair the world. It is the weight of our mistakes that makes all the difference.

July 16, 2050

Maybe its the 16th. Or the 17th. Maybe its been a week. Two weeks. How would I know? If you are here, reading this, please remember what happened to Earth. Please don't make the same mistake. It seems it was just yesterday that I was repairing old cars in my shop. Just yesterday that I watched new couples imperiously walk their infants through the park. And now? It's too late. Maybe I could invent a time machine and fix the past?

July 2050

At least I think it's still July. As time passes, I find my food source becoming more and more meager. I raid the fridges and pantries of my neighbors' homes, salvaging whatever I can. A jar of peanut butter, stale bread, and occasionally a treat. Fruit or chips. I continue to take what I can. But with no electricity, food is spoiled and therefore, not able to be eaten. I'll take and take. From home to home. Until one day, there will be no food at all. I will die. And human existence will be something of a myth.

August? September? 2050?

As I walk, I begin to come to the conclusion that today is that day. If only I knew what day it was. I feel lost. Probably because I am. Where am I? The only way I will have even the smallest chance of finding any food at all is to move. Somewhere. Anywhere. So what direction do I go? Which direction will bring me to what I desperately need? My body has turned frail and weak. Maybe it doesn't matter if I find food after all. I'll die anyway. So I walk. As far as my beaten body will carry me.

A face. A FACE! Something I thought I'd never see. I approach the male who carries a similar feeble, sickly frame. I can see his ribs from here. I wonder how bad mine must look.

"..." How do I speak? What do I say? Introductions seem pointless here. "I thought I'd never see a human again. I thought I was the last one here." I say, stuttering. Becoming familiar with the English language again. He doesn't respond. His adam apple bobs and only now do I see his parched lips. Water.

"Drink this," I say, holding out my Camelbak I stole somewhere on the way. He happily accepts my gift and gulps it down, eyes seeking approval to finish it. With a small nod, he finishes the cool water and meets my eyes.

"Mira....miracle" He musters.

"Pardon?" I ask, genuinely confused.

"It's a miracle. if you hadn't found me, I would have..." He pauses, searching for the word.

"Died?" I finish.

"Yes, died. Like everyone else." He gestures to the sky and Its surroundings. We stand in ruins. I pick up a small, smooth stone and place it against my palm. It feels cool against my skin and burns as I place it against my face. Our attention is divided as we start to take in our environment. Not much different than home, I notice. I bite my lip in uncertainty about the whole situation. I do not know this man. I do not know this place. I ask myself, do I want to know this man? Who seems so foreign to me?

"Is there anyone else here?" I asked, avoiding That conversation.

"There was my daughter for a while. She was just an infant. I fed her what I could, but she died of..... starvation." A tear escaped his eye and rolled down his face.

"Maybe we could...... have a memorial or something? For her?" I suggested.

"I already buried her." He whispered and pointed to a rock with a single shriveled tulip resting on top. I Kneeled down beside her grave and began to sing a song my father had taught me.

"Little one, you may be gone

the winds might blow, storms still will come

but somewhere out there, the sun still shines

the flowers bloom

we love you"

I couldn't even get to the second verse. I had broken into light, shaky sobs. I don't know at what point in the song I began to cry. I lift my gaze to find that he was also overcome with emotion.

"She..." He said pausing to find the right words. "She would have loved you." He resolved. We continue to move forward even though it felt wrong to leave her there. It reminds me of a time when I was younger. Dad was just starting to come down with Phenomena. It was a rough time for our whole family but I remember what he said to me just before he died. "One day you will be faced with a seemingly impossible situation. Move forward." Then he took my hand, kissed it gently, and passed away. Maybe this is what he was talking about. Maybe this is what he meant, but how would he know? We settle into a small patch of shade. He turns toward me.

"I'm Kalid" Mustering a small smile, he took my hand into a strong shake. "And seeing that we are the last to people on this planet, we are going to save the world."