300 Years

Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

Night fell on the abandoned city. No lights flickered on as they used to outside. The only light for miles was the light coming from the Boston Garden. Every night, before I went to bed, I would take some shots down on the basketball court. The repetitive sound of ball meeting twine soothed me after a long day of worrying about an invasion that was never likely to come.

I thought to myself, what if I was the only one left? What if I basically owned and ruled the world without even knowing it? But then again, what was there to rule without people to help you, people to refer to, people to comfort you?

My thinking was interrupted by the dull sound of the ball hitting the backboard, and bouncing out. That was my first miss in 13 shots. I retrieved my basketball, and put it back on its rack. I looked around at the massive court one more time, and left. I turned the lights off on the court as I walked out. The darkness cast an eerie felling on the place at first, but I would always get used to it after a few seconds or so.

I headed to where I usually slept, and are I cleaned out were I kept my water. I took a quick sip, and went to my sleeping bag. That's right. A sleeping bag. You would think that with all the abandoned furniture stores around here (or at least the ones that were still standing) , I would retrieve a nicer sleeping arrangement. But no, I felt more safe in a sleeping bag with a loaded pistol and a flashlight at my side.

. . . . .

I woke up at the crack of dawn to the harsh sunlight. The sun did that now. Super bright. I wondered many times if the sun was getting ready to burn out, preparing to explode. This explosion could wipe out the remaining people on earth, without warning.

I shielded my eyes, and stumbled out into the street. I had a loaded gun at my side, just in case. That's what I told myself. Just in case. I would have to start telling myself that there very well might be an invasion, not soon, but defiantly before I would die. If I didn't, I might not be prepared for it.

I walked down the deserted streets, looking for the place I had in mind. I looked to my left, and there it was. The old pawn shop. I was looking for a new gun. I walked in, and was greeted with a familiar musty smell. I must have been taken here as a kid. I scanned the shelves. This place really did have everything. Autographed baseball cards, jewelry, and even old cell phones.

Let me tell you something. You might think that after 300 years, we, the people of Earth, would have developed all sorts of new technology now. But your wrong. The last 300 years before, well, this, scientists were busy creating nukes instead of technology. How sad is that?

I finally found what I was looking for, an Intervention Sniper Rifle. I felt guilty stealing from the stores, but I needed to survive. Actually, I wanted to survive. When faced in the position I'm in, many people would rather be dead. I don't know why, but I wanted to be like those guys in the movies, the sole survivor, the last man standing. . . . . .

Later that day, I took some target practice with my gun. I always aimed at the few windows that were still intact. Hey, there was no one around to hear them, so there was no one to disrupt.

I hit the first window, and it shattered.

"Yes!", I muttered to myself.

The next window went the same way. Shatter, reload. Shatter, reload. Almost like the basketball last night, all my worries left me. That is, until the building fell.