3. The Withering

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The sirens blared.

I cursed and rushed towards the nursery. I picked Bran up.

"Radioactive bombs coming through. Please find shelter. Seal the doors and windows of your house. Do not open them, no matter what happens." The reporter on the radio was instructing.

I pressed the right buttons, letting the house seal itself.

That's when I saw her.

She was standing next to the glass wall with her hands pressed against the glass. Her eyes were wide and said everything she was unable to say.

"Let me in." They pleaded. "Save me."

I was about to unseal the window to let her in when the radio station announced. "DO NOT OPEN YOUR DOORS OR WINDOWS, THE BOMBINGS HAVE STARTED AND ANYONE OUTSIDE HAS A 0.001% CHANCE OF SURVIVAL..."

I shut it off.

"I'm sorry!" I screamed through the glass, tears streaming down my face.

She nodded, slowly. "I understand." Her eyes seemed to say.

I pressed my palms against her. "I'm sorry!" I sobbed.

Her eyes turned to the heavens and through the glass, I saw what she had seen. Tiny balls fell to the ground. Then, they burst and bubbles flew out. The air got filled with bubbles which seemed to let out rays and dust.

Soon, everything else was obscured from sight except the woman standing in front of me.

Bran was asleep on the couch, oblivious to the terror the woman was going through.

Her eyes widened and she let out a scream.

"What's wrong!?" I cried.

Her eyes stared into mine as she panted.

The dust was eating her skin and the rays were piercing her.

"Sshh! Sshh! Just look at me, everything will be fine."

She looked at me. Her hair was flying and her skin seemed to be coming loose.

"Inhale... exhale..." I instructed.

When she began to decay, I wanted to look away.

But I couldn't.

Her hair went first. It flew away with the wind. Then, the skin began tearing and cracking. I could see red lines underneath.

She inhaled and exhaled slowly, her palms pressed against mine, just a thick layer of glass between us.

When her legs gave way, she sank to her knees, and I sank alongside her.

Her skin fell off slowly and I saw her flesh underneath.

Why was she still alive?

How was she still alive?

The heat wave came.

Her flesh began melting. She raised her eyes towards the heavens and screamed a single word of a foreign language, "Laah."

She stopped breathing.

Her skin melted and kept on falling off. It was like cheese on pizza, only more disgusting and terrible.

Her eyes fell out of her sockets and her teeth corroded till they flew away as dust.

She was left nothing but two lumps of pink human flesh and skin, stuck to my glass wall.

I screamed internally and I knew one thing for sure.

The screaming would never stop.

When the air cleared, aways or search party arrived. My husband was one of the sixty one who had survived.

Bran went with him, I stayed back, though everyone begged me to go.

When I went out again, I was torn by hunger and exhaustion. I lay in the rubble.
I stared at the sky.

The sky stared back.

It mocked me. "This is what you humans are!"

I stared at the moon.

The moon stared back.

It mocked me. "This is what you humans do!"

I stared at the sky.

The sky stared back.

It mocked me. "This is what you humans want!"

I sobbed harder and harder.

"I can't even send you water!" Cried the sky, helplessly. "You've killed the clouds!"

I sobbed till I was breathless.

"Take me." I whispered. "I give up. I can't live here anymore." I cried.

The sky extended its arms and took me.

And so, I closed my eyes.

The World We've Set On Fire ■ Wattys 2016Where stories live. Discover now