The Flame of Hope

The Flame of Hope

All at once, a blast reverberated off the walls, knocking debris from the ceiling. Screams were heard immediately after, fearing that would be the decisive one. The bomb that would bury us alive. The lights flickered once, twice, then darkness engulfed the population.

The last six days have been spent in a concrete bunker, hundreds of feet below the desolate ground. Terror struck us in every waking moment; nightmares haunted us throughout the night. Of course we were frightened: We were the only human beings left.

My civilization has always been endangered. Famine, drought, disease, recession. But, though all that, we move on. Isn't it ironic that we're the last ones?

We are against a race far superior than us, commonly called cyborgs. These creatures have the capability to feel emotions and make instinctive decisions, like a human. However, the robot side controls analytical data, which creates possible scenarios in an instant. They're never wrong.

How do you beat an opponent who can't lose?

We were completely unprepared for the invasion. The cyborgs had completely annihilated the Eastern part of North America before we were told to go underground. In my city, those who were in denial of our probable extinction or lost the will to live stayed above. Their deaths were swift and easy.

I envy them.

Nevertheless, here I am, sitting in the darkness, waiting for death to take me into unknown territory. All I could do was reflect upon my life and pray for forgiveness of my sins. That was all anyone could do.

Every day, necessities, like food and water, were distributed to each family. At first, we were careless with the supplies. Now we have very few resources remaining.

If we weren’t buried alive, we would surely sta...

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...rming my soul and offering me life. Around this ember, I felt secure.

The ground around it caught fire, instantly creating a large inferno that licked at my eyes. This was not a soothing comfort the small ember had produced, but a terrifying beast yearning to tear into my flesh.

The flames spread, devouring everything in its path. Scorch marks were the tracks of where it had destroyed. Nevertheless, there was a form of magnificence in its mayhem. Shades of dark red, raging yellow, deep blue, and brilliant purple danced in the murkiness. The tongues of fire twisted together then twirled apart. Sparks went flying into the darkness, crackling as they sailed.

Occasionally, a small sprout would rise from the ashes. It would grow, and grow, and grow until beautiful flowers blossomed. They would prosper only for a short period of time before it was consumed by the blaze.