The house was a good house; built and planned by its determined owners in the year 2040.The house itself was an amazing feat of design and technology; it fed, slept and entertained its inhabitants in the rains of spring.Commanded livable during the peak of World War Four, the owners were frowned upon as rationing was full in force, so doohickeys were scarce at the best of times.
"Tuesday, thirty-first of January, 2040. Wake up! Wake up! 7:15 No time for dillydallying! Wake up!" Simultaneous groans lurked from the bedrooms. The house shook. This was no need for alarm; that was its snooze mechanism. Everyone slowly clambered from their dormant state.
"Important meeting today Mr. Greenwood! Hope you do well!"
"Thank you, House," replied Mr. Greenwood "its a very important day today for all of us; Jimmy has his violin exam, Jenny has her spelling bee and mum has her book club."
That day seemed like any other day, but the events to come were devastating...
Everyone left for work and tuition as usual, meanwhile, in Brussels, Belgium, life threatening decisions were being made. They were going to totally obliterate Division 44: the division in which Mr. Greenwood and his family lived and worked.
A stressful six hours had past and the family arrived home, had dinner and then went out into the garden to be entertained by the building when a lightning bolt rocket sped past rapidly. With everyones neck vertically perched, the house had no idea of what was currently happening. It struck... The bomb had landed and a blaze of silence and annihilation and the family, the garden, the street, the neighbourhood, the block, the city, the division was no more... But one object was strong enough to withstand such a disaster: the house. It stood tall over the dirt and debris, not even noticing what had just happened.
The same couldn't of had been said about the family. On the garden wall lay five perfect silhouettes. First was Mrs. Greenwood sitting perfectly on a deck chair looking upwards. Second was Mr. Greenwood, standing holding a beer looking upwards as well. The last three were of Jimmy, Jenny and a ball. Jenny with her hand raised, throwing the ball and Jimmy with open arms ready to catch it. The ball was in mid air, in between the two children. With that moment frozen forever and their bodies unsalvageable, the house was confused that no-one was laughing at his jokes. The house thought that they had gone inside to watch television.
"Inside not enjoying the lovely sunshine, are we?" There was no reply. There was never, ever going to be any reply.
Several hours had passed and there was not a sound throughout the home. Then the house realised it had not checked Mrs. Grenwood's study.
"Will you like a song Mrs. Greenwood?" There was no reply. "Well, since you are so indecisive, I'll play one of your personal favourites." The lyrics played "Where are you? Where are you? I miss you. I miss you. We take little things for granted. And only when they've parted, is when we realise how special they are."
The house realised that it had got itself in a state of mid where it had convinced itself that everything will be alright. And the half that refused to face the bitter truth was taking over.
The house talked in a firm tone with itself, telling itself not to panic. "Don't panic. Don't panic!"
It had to distract itself with the only way it knew how: by caring for its owners. It rushed downstairs to the kitchen where it hysterically made 16 dinners for the family that was no more. It then turned over beds, sweeped carpets, ran baths and cleaned the living room and then came to the conclusion that it was all useless... Absolutely useless...It cried.
"Where are you?!? Where are you?!? I'm sorry I took you all for granted but now I've realised how special you all are!"
It died. The house died. All systems shut down. And it was no more. The built up of gamma radiation had made the foundations to weaken and it collapsed. It now lay with its owners in the debris of district 44. Happily ever after...
