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Page name: first earth [Exported view] [RSS]
2004-03-02 04:08:09
Last author: .ash.
Owner: .ash.
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This is the story of a young girl about 19 that lived through some of the destructions of First Earth. Though, her name isn't ever specified, she gives one of the better descriptions of First Earth ever written.

Part I

July 18, 2006

I stare across the barren plains, and wonder what will become of this world. It's been almost 3 months since I left my apartment in the city and my supplies are running low. I want to return to the place that I once called home, but there is no turning back. Not now, not ever. It started in December. It was a cold winter, colder than average winters in Florida. It snowed. Soft white blankets of snow cover everything. Including the poor dead bodies in the streets. Dying of starvation and hypothermia. nobody knew what caused it. It just became cold. Out of nowhere. Environmentalists blamed it on the deterioration of the ozone. The more religious blamed it on God. I believed it was just another phenomenon that nobody could explain. Just colder than usual. 60 degrees colder than usual. And it wasn't just Florida having the cursed winter solstice, it was the whole globe. Internationally, people were dying from this cold weather. Australia reported it's ultimate low for December at -10 F. And it's summer there. So we could believe what we wanted. It was still going to be cold either way. 

Now, it is July. It's still cold. 50 above, yet, I still shiver when I sleep. They say it could get better, I don't believe them. After the freeze there was a national black out. All of the States lived in the dark for a week. Ultimate chaos. People flooded supermarkets gathering what they could. Nobody stopped them. Who could, and who wanted to? The smell of death is horrifying. You know when you sense it. It goes through your nostrils to your brain, down to the tips of your frost bitten toes. And you smile. What else is there to do? Nobody even tries to rob the banks anymore. What is the use of green paper in a time like this? Children, crying in the streets, waiting for their mothers to return home. They will never be home. They are shot dead in some mall parking lot with piles of clothes horde under their jackets to bring home to their freezing children. Suicide is common. Nobody sees a reason to live. I walk by a house and see a corpse hanging out a window, being held only by the small cord of some appliance. Eyes open, faces white with fear. Wincing, I move on. 

People start to build fences around their cul-de-sac. Mostly, these barriers are built out of stolen lumber and concrete from the nearest hardware outlet. On the tops of these walls are pieces of glass, nails and barbwire, anything to keep everything out. There is one way in, and this is guarded by the men of this small establishment. They work in small shifts, holding some sort of weapon to kill unwanted visitors. Which, in most cases, is anybody who wants in. Limbs hang from the tops of the walls from where some desperate person just wanted somewhere to stay. They most likely got stuck, and for fear of dying ripped their own limb off to save their life. Most of these establishments grow their own food. They fear the outside world. They fear themselves. Nobody can be trusted.

So I left the wretched city. Everything I owned, knew, loved, gone. I avoided the interstates. That was useless. So was driving.  I traveled north in search of a better home, or just a place to stay for a while. I have almost given up hope. I know I am somewhere in Georgia, but that doesn't help me. My best friend Peter live in Atlanta so I decide to call him on my cell phone. Luckily, I have signal. I dial his number and wait for an answer. I hear a voice, but I don't seem to recognize it. But it is him. His smooth voice resonates off of my cold ears.. I've longed to hear it for so long. I ask him to join me on my quest to find a better hope to live. He agrees. I tell him that I will call him as soon as I find out where I am located. Which will have to be tomorrow.

July 19, 2006

I've decided not to eat today. I have to save my supplies. This is how it's been since I've started this journey. I eat purely to fuel my body when I feel like I can't take another step. It makes you appreciate the smaller things in life. Like breathing the cool fresh air in through my nose. Listening to the rustling of leaves in the distance. I feel light, I feel I could take over the world. Sometimes it's hard. It took me so long to get over the hunger pangs. But in times like these, this is the least pain I have to worry about.

I walk a little further north, I know I am heading toward traffic, I can hear the sounds of the interstate a few miles from me. I follow the sounds, and sure enough, I come upon the dreadful interstate. Mostly, the chaotic road is loaded with half smashed cars driven by angry people trying to get away, like I am. They chose a different route and ended up with hate. I may not see human life for months, but I can find a peace that none of them can find. I see a road marker. 336. I have traveled 336 miles? Well, more than that. I was already 50 miles south of Georgia. I can't even clearly think straight. I decide to call Peter. I tell him where I am, and that I will be a little off the road so I don't get mugged, shot or raped. He says he'll be there as fast as he can. I believe him. I step back, and look at the sky. It's a beautiful shade of gray. That's about the only colour I have seen since all of this mess started. I stare at the sky, and begin to get dizzy. I decide to sit and take a rest. I don't recall falling asleep, but the next face I see is Peter. He brought more supplies, food, and a sleeping bag.  He hugs me, kisses me on the cheek and whispers hopes of better tomorrows. I smile, and we walk away toward the mountainous grounds before us. 

July 20, 2006

Days are so much better with a friend by your side. We still don't know where we are headed. There is no where to go. We are stuck on this main land. we can't cross the sea, we'll die. We can't go to far north, we'll run into blizzards. I don't want to head into any cities. Too dangerous. There is nowhere to go.  I've heard that there is a small settlement north of here, in the Smokies. I think we're going to go check it out. I now have more water. I know I can make it a least 3 more months. Please, I pray, 3 more months. 


July 21, 2006
I'm starting to see things in the night. Flashes of light, and beautiful rainbows. I want to sleep, but they won't go away. Then I start to hear voices. Voices whispering thought of ending it all, to forget life. I'm 19. How can I forget life. I have so much ahead of me. Peter stirs in his sleep, I know he's as restless as I am. But when I do fall asleep, it is so deep not even the pale morning sun can wake me. I awake to a light touch on my face. It's Peter. He tells me to look at the sky. It appears to be night. I tell him that, yes, the clouds are in the sky and that is why there is no stars. But then I look at my watch. It says 11 am. It is pitch black and I can barely see my hands in from of me. There is no moon because of the over cast that has haunted the earth for weeks now. No light. I am deathly afraid. I look at my watch again, and think that maybe the battery died. My watch is a quartz watch. So much for that reasoning. 

Peter tells me that things will be ok, and that I shouldn't worry so much. He, like me, believes that this is just a natural phenomenon. And now, I am beginning to doubt my own reasoning.


July 22, 2006
I saw some small clouds of smoke in the mountains ahead of us. It appears that there really is a settlement. It looks like it will take a 2 days' journey. I hope we can make it. Supplies have now dwindled down to some matches, water, and a few saltines. Peter has gotten so close to me in the past few days. He told me he loved me and that he would never leave me. If we never make it out of here at least I have found peace. 


July 23, 2006
We are half way there. The closer we get the more I seem that this journey was worth it. I can fly. I felt my feet lift off the ground. I look at Peter and he smiles and kisses me softly. I float further into the air. I look back to the earth and all it's destruction, and I smile, I'm heading home.

This is the end of part one of The Stories of First Earth. 

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2004-06-04 [~*Love_Less*~]: i love the story it is quite awsome (did i spell that write o well)

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