Day 1
I don't remember exactly what I ate that morning.
Probably something bland, tasteless.
Food wasn't something you enjoyed in the Dust Zones; it was something you tolerated.
Maybe that's why I didn't notice when the first crops started going bad. Not at first.
It wasn't until the smell hit me, rotten, sharp, like something that had been dead for weeks.
That I realized something was wrong.
I was standing in the marketplace, surrounded by people who looked as worn and weathered as the land itself.
Currency wasn't dominant here, it was more of an open and barter trade system.
It wasn't much of a marketplace.
Just a few rows of tarps stretched over cracked asphalt, the air thick with dust and desperation.
I remember a woman screaming.
She was holding something in her hands, a head of cabbage, I think.
It was black, shriveled, dripping with something that looked like tar.
People gathered around her, muttering and whispering.
Some blamed the soil, others the corporations.
Me? I didn't know what to think.
That was the first sign.
By the time I got home, the air felt different. Heavier.
My parents were sitting at the table, their faces drawn as usual.
My mother's hands trembled as she poured water into a chipped mug.
"Something's happening," she said slowly.
"Out there."
She didn't need to say what.
The news had been full of it for weeks.
Stories about strange illnesses, crops failing, animals acting… wrong.
I'd heard the rumors, of course, but rumors were as common as dust in the Zone.
But then the second sign came.
It was my little brother, Thomas.
He was only ten, the youngest in our family.
He'd been outside playing in the yard, chasing one of the stray dogs that roamed the Zone.
When he came inside, he was holding something, a flower.
A blue flower with petals that seemed to shimmer, like oil on water.
"Look what I found!" he said, his face lit up with the kind of joy only a child can have.
My mother froze.
"Tomas," she said, her voice sharp.
"Put that down."
"But it's just a flower..."
"Now!"
He dropped it, startled.
It hit the floor with a soft thud, and for a moment, we all just stared at it.
I don't know how she knew.
Maybe it was instinct, or maybe she'd heard something I hadn't.
Either way, she grabbed Thomas and pulled him away, her hands shaking.
"Burn it," she said, turning to my father.
"Now."
He didn't argue.
He grabbed the flower with a pair of tongs, threw it into the fireplace, and lit a match.
The flames turned green.
That was the third sign.
...
The memory still sharp, even after all this time.
That was the last day we were a family.
The last day we had any semblance of normalcy.
The next morning, the sickness came.
It started with Thomas.
I don't know if it was the flower or something else, but by the time the sun rose, he was burning with fever.
His skin was pale, his breathing shallow.
My parents did everything they could, but it wasn't enough.
By the end of the week, he was gone.
And he wasn't the only one.
It was like a plague; it hit everyone eventually, and there was no escape.
The only thing worse than the plague was not dying of the plague.
Three days... Was all it took to reset the world.
During these three days, a lot happened, and it is worth it to say my parents fought till the last day before dying with unwillingness in their eyes.
Tears In my eyes and a matchstick in my hand.
I hoped I would join them also, by no means was this life worth living.
Pains in my chest, I think I had a heartache, if possible, the feeling of burning down my house and family along with it.
In this situation, a burial would be fruitless, as even the soil is against us, it seems.
What is the need to put them in the ground when Earth and wild animals would just spot them out?
It is obvious and I would rather learn from someone else's mistake than be hurt again.
Amid deprecated lands and deserted lands, a building laid ablaze. Normally, people would try to stop this, considering their crops and resources, but they didn't.
Because there was no one, probably in the next mile too.
What am I looking for?
Why did I do it?
I don't know, I was beginning to regret, I should take advantage of this and use the remaining resources to build a shelter for myself.
That was my greed talking.
Selfishness thinking I'll survive another day if I stay here any longer.
I have no reason to stay and that's a good reason to go.
The fact that I survived means I still have a fighting chance.
What doesn't kill me, makes me stronger.
I said to myself and embarked on my journey
With only a backpack and some foraged foods and water that I hope is safe.
What is my aim?
I don't know
What is my goal?
I don't know.
I am simply a survivor, maybe I'm searching for peace?
Power in a lost world is merely the infatuation of a person holding on to what was and refusing to accept what is.
I'll get nowhere with power.
I am simply going where my foot takes me. I search for what will fill my soul and soothe my eyes.
You may say I am cathartic, but I am.
I can't rewrite the past but I can grab a clean sheet of paper and write the future.
Yes, that's what I'm doing writing my future...
Ouch
That should be enough for today.
There's no need to. Rush.
I suddenly feel dizzy and have a mild headache, I should go rest somewhere.very soon.
I've been up for too long.
Better days are coming.
Goodnight journal.