A Beautiful End

countryside scene

Source Countryside

I sit on the edge of a cliff overlooking a vast wilderness of fields and woodland. Land that once flourished with crops and livestock, now overgrown and wild, lost to mother nature. The fields and woodland stretch as far as the eye can see until it meets the tranquillising sky, boasting a beautiful sunrise of blues and purples surrounding the ever intensive beam of the sun. What separates the sky and the ground is a thin black line that looks like it has been drawn using a well sharpened HB pencil and ruler.

There is a small patch of woodland, standing proudly in the middle of an untidy meadow. Trees that have been around for hundreds of years, observing the best and worst of humanity, from children playing in the woods to bloody battles fought only for territory, but with everything they have witnessed they have stood tall, unmoved. The long grass blows in the wind changing direction, elegantly like a well choreographed dance routine.

The thin black line has expanded, looking more like a burnt piece of twine.

I look away, concentrating on the beauty of mother nature in front of me. A herd of horses catch my eye, running freely, liberated by humanity, running through the long grass, sending a Nye of pheasants soaring into the sky in perfect formation, like the Red Arrows. I envy the carefree nature of the animals and birds, unaware of the impending doom that comes for them. The sun now stands proudly high above us. I close my eyes to acknowledge all of my senses. The subtle heat followed by a cool breeze on my exposed skin. The misleading sound of crashing waves. I say misleading because we are nowhere near the coast.

The black line looks more like a strip of tape, consuming all of my happiness. You see, about two months ago, we heard reports of ‘the sea of death’ spreading across Asia. The foolish west, ignored the warnings, treating it like the Australian flu that never materialised, and everything was hunky dory until reports of a train, missing in the channel tunnel drew attention from the media. Every rescue crew who entered the tunnel never returned. The military were sent in as a final solution. The nation watched, eyes glued to any TV they could find. The atmosphere was deadly silent for what felt like hours until the chilling sound of gunfire echoed out of the tunnel. That was the moment the nation knew the reports were true. Soon after the assault had ceased, an ocean of what looked like thick, black oil, consi poured out like a wave travelling through a narrow corridor, consuming everything in its path. Not much was shown after that. Everyone retreated, fleeing the hostile organism that could changing direction to capture an innocent life. It was at this point that I knew the world was ending. Fight or flight, mixed with self-preservation, appeared cowardly as I escaped the city, leaving my family behind, making my way north to prolong my worthless life.

So here I am. We are the last outpost in England. 72 million people assimilated into the sea of death and destruction, and now its coming for us. It is relentless. It has no desire; there is no soul to be reasoned with, no motivation other than to destroy the world like a global tsunami.

The wave has reached the herd of horses, absorbing their lifeforce with no hesitation. I should be running for my life, but I don’t see the point anymore. I have no family or friends to fight for. Some of us have no expectations of surviving. I could just step off this cliff and end it right here, right now, but I, along with others are just too cowardly to end our lives ourselves. Others want to go out with honour, reinforcing the blockades and entrances, hope to stop it like a dam. Scientists are still working on a solution to the hoard of evil coming our way. Even as death is knocking at the door, they still believe they can find a saving grace. The weapons experts have sent their strongest missiles into the black sea hoping to make some damage but the projectile is just consumed. Others have tried sending high frequency pulses hoping to scare it off and make it change direction, but nothing. I don’t know if it’s foolish hope, or if they are just too afraid to submit and succumb to the inevitable, but who am I to stop them.

Some say its divine intervention. That God is punishing us for our sins, losing all faith in humanity and resetting the Earth back to a better time. Scientists believe its a hundred years worth of pollution, becoming so poisonous and concentrated, that it cannot mix with the water and is therefore spilling onto land. Conspiracy theorist believe it is the work of the government. A biological weapon from Area 51 and other secret facilities that became too powerful to handle. There is no way to determine who is right, we are running out of time so it would be pointless to point the finger and place blame. The sea of doom is a few miles away and gaining fast.

The sun is beginning to set, representing the final chapter in my life. I know from my science classes as a boy that its only light of shorter wavelengths being dissipated by water vapour and atmospheric dust, but it doesn’t take away from the fact that the intense reds and orange, along with the silhouettes from the last remaining birds bring a sense of warmth and contentment to my heart, for I know that once the sun sets, I will never see it rise again, and I want my last view to be something beautiful.

This message was not intended to make you depressed, or feel sorry for me. I had no intention to try and create an emotional response. I wrote this so if one day, once the Earth had settled, and the poison infecting the world has retreated, allowing life to once again walk the lands, that someone would know that I existed.

The sun has set…Goodbye.

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