A forgotten country.

The only thing that illuminated the night was lightning in the dark sky. The dark gray clouds were amazed at the clarity of the lightning.

Ryan was running barefoot that night when the freezing rain was accompanied by lightning. Even as he bled from the stones, iron, and glass particles beneath him, his legs did not slow down. He endured the pain and continued to move among the corpses.

The rain was washing away the mud on Ryan. His body was wet and cold. There was nothing to keep him warm. Just torn and worn clothes.

His cheeks had turned into a well of hunger, and his eyes had swollen. His arms and legs were thin. Seventeen-year-old Ryan's made up of bones and skin. In this loveless world, he had not eaten a slice of bread for days because of his love for his mum. There was no choice. His mother was ill. He had to give all the food he had or stole to her.

He had a piece of bread in his hand. It was also stolen from the soldiers. If they saw Ryan, he wouldn't have survived. But it was very difficult to find food elsewhere.

He rushed home, leaving behind sleeping people, leaning against the ruins of a nearby building to deliver the bread to his mother. Those people would die. Everyone he left behind. Half from sickness, half from hunger. Ryan's father was also among the dead.

How many years had it been?

He couldn't remember.

The rain tried to clean the polluted air, but the burning smell in the air would not go away.

Ryan was about to go home now, so he sped up. His mother was sick and was waiting for him at home.

"Stop!"

A man voice behind. Ryan had to stop. He didn't turn his back. Would soldiers go this far for a piece of bread?

"No, it can't be a soldier," Ryan thought.

Still, he was stricken with fear. If it was a soldier, Ryan would be dead already. Not knowing what to expect, Ryan turned to the owner of the voice.

A man was holding a metal pipe, staring at Ryan's bread. The man's face was covered in dirt and blood. She was no different from Ryan and his mother. He was as starving as anyone else.

"Hey boy," said the man with a dark look, "give me that bread!"

Ryan shuddered at the man's horrified eyes, but he couldn't give him the bread.

"N-no. I can't... Thi-this is ma-my mom's," Ryan said.

"F*ck your mother," he cried, "I told you to give me that bread."

Ryan wiggled his mud-covered feet and started running. He pushed his weak body and increased his speed as the man started to follow him. Finding a piece of bread was not easy.

Ryan kept running, ignoring the direction. He was sure it wasn't the first time he'd been to this place, but as the buildings collapsed day by day, the roads changed and became unrecognizable.

Ryan had to stop when he saw a large pile of garbage in front of him. It was too high that he couldn't climb. He looked around. There was no way to go.

Come back?

Definitely, no!

He glanced behind. The man ran towards him.

Ryan took a few deep breaths and examined the litter. It was like a wall of ruins, from the ruins of the apocalypse.

Iron, concrete, car pieces and other remains had came together to form a hill. Ryan was convinced that under all the remains there were more than a hundred human bodies. In any case, it was hard to find a place that was not dead. The world had turned into a graveyard.

Ryan gave up on such thoughts. What should he do?

Seeing that the man was so close, Ryan realized there was no other way, so he grabbed the first thing he saw and started climbing. But the man did not give up.

Due to the rain, Ryan's metal grip slipped from his hand, and he was in danger of falling at any moment. The man climbed up behind him.

"Hey," the man said, "Give me that bread. My daughter is hungry, she's very young. I have to feed her."

Ryan paused for a moment, and the man quickly stood up and grabbed Ryan's leg.

"I'm begging you, my daughter is hungry. Let me feed her. If she goes on like this, she will die"

The man's voice was filled with sadness. Ryan felt bad for a moment. Her daughter… she would die. He was like Ryan and his mother. But Ryan wasn't a benefactor. There was no such person.

"I can't tolerate my mother's hunger," Ryan thought.

He sought a way to save himself by fighting to keep the bread.

He shook his leg with all his might, but the man did not let go. Finally, Ryan pushed the man away with his bloody foot. The man let go of his foot and was dragged to the bottom of the garbage dump. Blood gushed from the man's mouth as his back slid into a piece of metal in the trash. He died.

Since this man wasn't the first person Ryan had killed, he wasn't afraid. He had seen worse than that. In the end, you either kill or be killed. Things like this happen every day.

It was a war between humans for food and they had to kill to survive.

Ryan was relieved to see the bread in his hand. He could feed his mother. Ryan landed on top of the pile and returned home. What he called a house was a half-broken bus under a dilapidated bridge. The side windows of the bus were broken and the windshield was cracked. A lot happened on this bus. His father also died here.

His mother was inside and Ryan was about to enter. The mom would be glad to see the bread. He was sure of it.

Wet clothes soaked the floor when he got on the bus. Half-sitting on the couches, the mother pulled the blanket over her, but she was still cold.

My mother's chestnut hair was disheveled and dirty. Her brown clothes were unkempt. The worry in her mother's black eyes disappeared as she watched her son.

"Ahh, Ryan!" she said softly and coughed. "Where have you been son?"

She was still sick.