Decrease

Six Months Later

It's March and the arrival of Spring is early this year. No one's complaining though. This past winter was the winter for those who survived the Earth's most horrific devastation inflicted upon them by tyrants who nearly destroyed the world. These few survivors are the ones who are embarking on a new beginning to rebuild humanity. The arduous journey to start all over again isn't going to be an easy task. Yet the spirit of the survivors has been so much stronger than anyone could have imagined. Atlanta, once again, is beginning to be restored like it was after the Civil War.

Before the plague the population of Atlanta was twenty million. The CDC has been conducting a census for the last five months. So far, 850,000 lives have been recorded, with 170,000 being children fifteen years and under, with 150,000 of them being orphaned. The world's population census, so far, totals around four billion. Fifteen billion souls were wiped out by the pandemic. Those who survived lost loved ones and must now start new relationships with others who suffered the same.

President Mansoor has condemned controlled birthing, along with dissolving the Population Control Administration. The CDC has begun to test those who were never sterilized, so that natural birthing can begin again. While the list of non-sterilized candidates is slim, life can be restored as it was intended. Even though I, too, am on the list, I do not feel that I can contribute to repopulating the Earth. I had my chance. I don't want a child if it can't be with the one I love and miss the most; Claire.

Every day my heart's tormented with overwhelming pain for the woman I wanted to live the rest of my life with. Instead, her life and our son's life were cut down, due to the madness of those who failed in the attempt to control their evil plot of desecrating the lives of billions of people. I know in my heart, I should forgive them, or persecution will always be my companion. But how can I? How can I forgive those, especially those who were family and friends who committed this atrocity of eliminating human lives, for what I am reminded of what Ted stated as "for the greater good"? How can I forgive those who felt that it was within their power to take insane measures to annihilate billions of innocent lives? I must move on, or my heart will be sickened for life. My heart can never be healed from the hole that was ruptured within; but my heart is human and I must, for my own sake, as well as for Claire's, continue to move forward, so that men, like Ted, can never dictate the world's future again. I will never be the man I used to be.

I've been working as much as I can, so that I don't feel the loneliness that envelops me every minute of every day. Though today is Saturday, I have decided to stay home.

While I see only a handful of people outside my living room window walking about, I have never seen such a spectacular view as I do right now. For once, I see flowers that were carelessly trampled upon by the former populace, due to the limited space unavailable to them at the time. There are tulips and daffodils that have blossomed into such brilliant beauty, that for an endless moment, one could forget the last six wicked months and fantasize a world of grandeur, never to be disrupted. I pull the rocking chair over to the window, sit, and think of how Claire would enjoy the splendor I see. I begin to weep in silence, knowing that for the rest of my life I will not fully enjoy such beauty without Claire and our son. My grieving becomes interrupted by my cell ringing. Not wanting to answer it, I figure I better, since it might be important. I wipe my tears away and grab my cell from the end table, and as joyfully as I can, I say, "Hello, this is John."

There's silence for a few seconds, and then a voice says, "Jonathan, this is Aunt Ruth. How are you, dear? I haven't heard from you since... well, you know, since things were starting to get turned around. I was wondering if you were up to seeing me today. Is that agreeable with you, Jonathan?"

I stare at the floor wondering how I'm going to answer her, knowing that she's not my aunt, but my mother. Do I want to see her anymore? Not wanting to be silent for too long, I decide to reply. "Well, I've been quite busy, as you may know. When did you want to get together... Aunt Ruth?"