Seeds

Chapter 1

They say the oceans were once blue, that the sky was clear, and the land was covered in greenery. These landscapes were filled by schools of fish, flocks of birds, and herds of cattle. Homes had food, children attended school, and happiness existed. Today these scenes have been filled with oil, smog thickened air, and death.

I was merely a child when things began to change. At that time, I did not understand the effects one more extinct species or destroyed forest would have on the human population. Everyone chose to ignore the calls for action made by the environmental awareness organizations. Maybe, had I known, I could have done something, said something that would have brought reality into perspective. But I didn't. Just like most people didn't. I continued with my ways, taking for granted, over­using, over­buying, gluttony.

"Looks like we're down to our last box of RITZ," my mother sighed, the wrinkles in her forehead deepened as she looked down at the rectangular shape and began to ration out the supply into equal pieces for our family of four.

"Brenda and I will head down to the square tomorrow morning and trade some pieces of firewood for canned food," I stated, in hopes of bringing some sense of peace to my worried mother.

"We can't afford to lose our supplies, the winter is setting in and the nights continue to get longer and colder. I don't know how long before the snow comes, but once it does, we are going to need all the firewood we can possibly get," she remarked, bringing me to the realization that the simplistic resource had to be preserved.

"I can trade in my wool sweater, I have a couple blankets that can keep me warm," revealed Brenda. My mother didn't speak, just approved with a slight nod of her head as she proceeded to hand us each our own portion of food. We had learned to take these and spread them out over a course of time rather than stuffing our faces in the blink of an eye.

With nothing to do, the only option left was to go outside and rummage through the debris of empty houses and closed down supermarkets. After food had become scarce a little over ten years ago, grocery stores began losing merchandise to fill their shelves. Families began moving in hopes of finding food and safety.

It began with the initial lack of strawberries here and coffee brands there. After three years, aisles were removed and stores shrank in product quantity. After seven years, shelves were left to fill with dust, two years later, stores nationwide began permanently closing down; leaving behind the unwanted small quantities of grains and dry milk powder. These places were now mere hiding spots for children to play in, and for others to find shelter from underground gangs that would stop you in the middle of your tracks and take whatever clothing or item you had in your possession. Occasionally, I was lucky enough to find a halfway filled bag of rice here or a water bottle there, buried under the piles of glass and cement that was left behind by maniac nights when crowds began breaking and flooding into stores in the hopes of filling their pantries with some food.

"I knew I'd find you here," came a voice from behind the once filled shelf.

At first I was startled by the presence of another voice other than my own. But my nerves were eased as association sunk in.

"Well, what else do you suggest I do with all my free time," I teased, as Easton made his way around the shelf towards me.

He stood at a remarkably four inches above six feet tall with moss green eyes that were framed by his chestnut hair that cascaded just slightly below his eyebrows. In comparison to most people, he had not thinned out nearly as frightening as most and had managed to keep his slightly built structure.

"Well, did you find anything useful today," he asked, a hint of a setting smirk spread across his face.

"Nope, just the usual, a--" I stated before he cut in.

"A lot of dust," he chimed in to mimick my redundant response.

"Cut it out," I laughed. "It's not like you were able to find anything better anyways," I
retorted back.

"Hmm that's not true," he smirked as he pulled out a small black bag from his back
pocket.

I was dumbfounded at the sudden twist in plot. I was usually the one to find things, not him. Yes I was annoyed, mainly because he knew that I would be once I laid eyes on the item. Enough being said, we had an unspoken of friendly rivalry that had begun years before, when chaos had started to bud.

"What?! Lemme see!" I commanded as he held the bag above his head keeping it out my reach. Unlike him I was not six feet tall, heck, I was lucky enough to have even made it two inches past five feet! What I lacked in height I compensated for in brains!

"No, its a surprise! What type of surprise would it be if I just gave it to you without the jazz and fireworks that surprises carry," he sarcastically replied as I continued to tug at his arm in an attempt to miraculously grow a whole foot and a half and strip the bag out of his possession.

"Fine, it's probably just a bag of marbles anyway," I slapped back trying to hide my annoyance but obviously failing to do so.

"Then why the nosey curiosity," he managed to push the question out through short pauses in his fit of laughter.

He had a point, I was curious as to what was in the bag, not because of the fact that he had found it, but because of the silver initials that were located in the bottom right hand corner of zipped shut bag. They read "ECO." I remember seeing that arrangement of letters as a child, in school placed on bulletin boards and in take-home newsletters. Trying to pin point exactly where and why I could feel myself scurrying though the crooks and crannies of my stowed memories that I thought I'd forgotten.

"Emily Catherine Oswald," I mumbled.

"Huh," questioned Easton.

"That's it! Remember that family on the opposite side of town that left a year ago," I questioned.

"Of course, they were the richest family on this part of Cincinnati," he said as he continued to scatter through the remnants of the market.

"It wouldn't happen to be because of the silver initials would it," Easton teased as I realized he had been able to read my expression.

"Alright so how'd you get it," I questioned. "That part of town is practically unreachable unless you have a car, and last I checked, gasoline stations closed down about three years ago."

"I know a guy," he smirked, clearly unwilling to share his information.

"Fine, be that way, it's not like I cared anyways," I slashed back as I began to walk out of the grey building. I was annoyed, how could he keep this from me! If there was a way to reach the old Oswald home I needed to know. There could be piles of valuable items that my family and I could trade in for some food!

"Come on Liz, it's not like it really matters anyways. That house was pillaged the minute the Oswald's left, and you know that," he fought back.

"How would you know, you didn't get that yourself, there could still be jewelry or canned items hidden in case they planned on coming back or-- ­­," I was yelling now before he quickly placed his hand over my mouth and we sank to the ground.

"Shhh," he said releasing me.