New World

1 - The End

A/N: Hey guys! My name is May and I had an idea for a story, but I just wanted to know what you think of it! I've only got the first chapter, but I will probably continue it and see where it goes. Feel free to leave comments as I would love to hear your advice!

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Some say that the world will end in a pop, or a bang, or will simply cease to exist. Others believe that we will survive to see it burnt to a crisp by our aging sun, or that we will destroy ourselves before we get a chance to explore the stars. Everyone knew the world would end one day, one way or another, but no one could have guessed it would happen like this. Not in a million years.

It has been 10 years since the end of the world. There are still people who believe we have a chance, that the world isn't gone yet. But I gave up hope long ago. Memories of the old ways have nearly disappeared from my mind. I was only young when it happened, I think that was why I was spared. The old and the weak were killed as they could not work, but most children were deemed useful as slaves, working in mines or factories or other dreadful places. There were so many of us that the death of a child wasn't noticed by anyone, and we were easily replaceable. Work changed as we grew older, becoming harder and more damaging to our fragile bodies. Life changed on my fourteenth birthday, as it did for everyone else. 7 years after they arrived, they left again.

The world was a wreck. Only a fifth of the population had survived, and the world outside our mines and factories had changed significantly in the past years. As I said, some people believed we had a chance to rebuild the world and go back to the way things were before. What they failed to take into consideration was why the invaders left. They weren't here for long, as seven years are nothing in the scheme of things, and they seemed pleased with the resources they gathered and the hard work we endured. But as we explored the ruined Earth, what we found was enough to stamp out any hope anyone felt.

Nothing. We found nothing. No animals, no trees, no water, nothing. The forests were gone, cut down or burnt for fuel for whatever machines the invaders invented. The sky was covered in a great big cloud of smoke, forever hiding the great blue sky from the stories I heard from the older survivors. Lakes and rivers had dried up, and whatever ocean was left was brown and polluted. There was nothing left for us to rebuild with. That thought was quickly forgotten, however, when a greater problem emerged. The Hunger. With the wildlife dead or dying, we struggled to cling on to life, and eventually the instincts rooted deep into our systems took over. People started killing each other, forming groups with friends or any family they had left and ganging up on smaller groups. They resorted to eating each other, with no other food sources available.

I thought I was lucky stuck with a bigger, isolated group. We all knew each other well, our connections with each other strong enough to prevent cannibalism. That didn't last for long. Finding food started becoming rarer and rarer, and fights started breaking out over what we could find. With more people to feed, you were lucky to get a scrap. That wasn't an issue after the attacks from other groups. They formed a temporary alliance to take down our group, one of the biggest food sources anyone could find. It's disgusting to think about, but when you haven't eaten in weeks you don't have a choice. I was lucky enough to escape, but I never saw anyone from that group again.

I've somehow managed to survive on my own since then. With only one mouth to feed, life is easier. However, being on my own means I am a target. I can fight off smaller groups of two or three just fine, but it's the larger groups I have to worry about. I've been on my own for two and a half years, and thankfully I have only had one run in with a big group. I hid in the basement of a house for 3 days until I was sure the group had passed without seeing me, and then I went back on my way. Occasionally I would find a small mouse, or if I was lucky a rabbit, but my main food source is the food I raid from houses. The main, big cities were all destroyed by the invaders, but smaller towns were left mainly intact.

The house I'm currently raiding is a treasure trove of food. I can't stay in one place for too long out of fear that I'll be found, so I have to take the food with me. My backpack is light and nearly empty, and filling it with cans of food feels satisfying. I feel a small sense of hope before I quickly push it away. Last time I felt hopeful about something, everyone I knew died. I quickly zip up my backpack and strap it onto my back. The new weight of it hurts my already sore shoulders but I ignore it and quickly move out of the house and onto the street.

The quietness of the streets screams louder than usual as a plastic bag floats across the ground in front of me. My gaze follows it and lands on a small toy outside one of the houses. It's a little brown bear wearing a red and white knitted shirt. I kneel down next to it and pick it up, looking at it closer. It has a tag with the words Sally's Bear. I put it back down and stand back up, stretching my legs. I adjust the gas mask on my face, a nervous habit I developed after the invaders left. I used to have a bear that looked similar to it, before the world ended.

A loud clanging sound echoes through the street behind me and I quickly turn around, all thoughts about the toy abandoned. I squint my eyes through the haze, trying to see what's out there. I pull out my knife as I walk closer to the source of the noise, my heart beating fast in my chest. I hear a clanging sound again, behind a trash can. I move slowly towards it with my knife at the ready, then quickly move around it to see behind it. I let out a sigh of relief when I see it was just a mouse. It quickly scurries away before I can kill it, but the weight on my shoulders reminds me that I didn't need it anyway. I turn around to go back to where I was heading, but am met with a tall figure wearing a gas mask. My heart leaps into my throat and I cry out involuntarily. It reaches out to grab me but I quickly turn back around and start running. Thoughts rush through my head. It was a trap, it's another large group, there's more of them out there, I'm going to die.

The haze gets thicker and I squint my eyes to try and see, but I miss a pile of rubble and trip over it. Pain blooms through my leg and I cry out. I pull my leg into myself and try to survey the damage, but am met with the tall figure again. My eyes widen in fright and I quickly scurry backwards in a futile attempt to escape. The figure crouches down in front of me and takes its gas mask off. I pause, dread and confusion circling in my head. Why would he do that? The fumes are poisonous, he's going to get himself killed. The figure puts the mask on the ground and reaches out towards me. I'm too busy trying to get away from it to get a proper look, but I catch short brown hair and dark eyes. I try to bat his hands away, but he manages to get his hands onto my gas mask and pulls it off. I yell in protestation but it's no use – the next breath I take is full of fumes and I start choking, struggling to breathe the thick air. My vision starts going dark, and soon the world falls away.