The year 5000, the human race has migrated to Neptune. A small band of government agents went back to earth in hopes to find what almost caused the human race to be whipped out. They found a few charred papers and written on them was this.


My world is collapsing. I wrote down what is happening so future people would know why. It is June 9th, 2006, and my name is Anna Breenarc.


Bright sunlight streamed through my bedroom window. Slowly opening my eyes, I sit up.
“Anna, time to get up.” Rolling out of bed I start to get ready for school. I live in New York City, on the 14th floor of the apartment building where my mother and I have been living for my whole life, pretty much. I look in the mirror; staring back at me is a tall but scrawny, brown-haired, green eyed girl. Everyone always gushed over my eyes; to me they were nothing special.

School went by uneventful, although the weather was a little strange. I was just ending my last class when it happened, the air seamed dry, like right before lightning hits. Everyone was looking around with funny expressions, where was it coming from? Then the air was normal again.
Saying good bye to my friends, I rode my bike home, everyone was a little bit slower than usual, maybe it was just the heat. I could hear it before I saw it, the ambulance outside of the apartment building where I lived. Rushing over I said “what happened? Is every one alight?” My voice was rough and I was having hard time breathing. “Someone called in a report of a strange smell in apartment 157. That’s all I know.” Relief filled my body, I was so scared it was my mother, who like me, is a klutz. Apartment 157 is, or was, Ms. Elderberries. She was going on her late 80 and although sad, would not be a big surprise when her time finally came. I thanked the man and took the elevator up to my apartment. Flipping on the news as I walked in, I set my backpack down and flopped down on the couch.
The Weather man said something about the weird weather patterns; subconsciously I went through the channels, looking for something good. Just then the phone rang. “Hello?” I say into the mouth piece “Honey, are you seeing this?” My mother sounds frantic. “Seeing what?” She has me scared now. “Look out the window quick!” Right as she is saying this, the man on the news announces that there is an unusually high death count in New York and that sources are unknown. I rush to the window and through back the curtains. The sky, a usual gray-blue, is dark purple and when I open the window to stick my head out farther, I can feel that same dryness in the air from school earlier.

“Mom you need to come home right away, the news man is saying there is allot of people dying and the cause is unknown. For all we know there could be a serial killer on the loose!” I practically shout into the phone.
“Anna I know, but I can’t leave the hospital right now. The patients need me.” Her voice is sad but withdrawn and I know there is nothing I can do to change her mind. “Lock all the doors and answer for no one. I love you, and I’ll be home soon.” I whisper my good bye and hang up.

By that night the death toll had raised to three-hundred and eighty-seven, all of unknown cause. I lay on the couch, shivering, with a blanket over my head. I wasn’t cold, I was scared. Scared for all those I knew and loved and scared for all those I didn’t. What could be killing all these people? And how could we not be able to do something about it?
I lay there, until my mother got home, frazzled and tired she slumped in the door, locking it behind her. “What is going on?” Her voice was horse, probably from yelling orders all night.
“I don’t know, but it’s really bad.” I was too scared to cry before, but now I could feel it taking over.
I got no sleep that night. My mother just held me in her arms and slowly we watched the morning light come back through the dark purple clouds.

Eventually she went back to work. Not even considering school, I ate little breakfast.
The death toll had risen to two-thousand six-hundred around the world and still we had no idea what was causing it. Forensics has found no relation between the deaths. The people that are dyeing are perfectly healthy and there is no physical proof of sickness or aliment in any way. Three-hundred alone had died at my mother’s hospital and I lay there shivering and scared out of my whit.

Later that day there was a special announcement from the president, saying that there is no evidence of foul play and the top scientists around the world are coming together as we speak and searching for the cause.

There was panic in the streets. People breaking into stores and steeling any food they could get their hand on. I stopped looking out the window when the corps started to appear. I couldn’t stand the idea of going down to find out what was going on, seeing those dead eyes staring into nothing.
Children were dyeing as well. There seemed no pattern for the deaths, nothing for us to speculate about.
That night the death toll had come to thirteen-thousand and counting.
I slept that night, a broken shaky sleep that was not helpful. My night-mirrors were even worse that waking. In my dream piles of bodies littered the streets. The stench a hundred times worse than that of butchery and the eyes, those dead, cold eyes boar into mine.
I woke screaming multiple times that night, never wanting to sleep again.

The call I was dreading most came that morning, a deep voiced man informed me that my mother would not be coming home.
I felt dead inside. There was nothing left for me to feel. Not sadness, not pain, nothing.

My grandparents had all died before I was born and my father had left my mother when he found out she was pregnant. I had no one left to go to. I was alone in the world.

Night fell; the death count was thirty-thousand. Still no idea what the cause is.
The next few days went by in a blur; my life seemed stuck between sleep and consciousness. By the fourth day there was an announcement. The government was evacuating people to Iceland, the only place where there were no records of recent deaths. The helicopters would be landing in Madison Square Garden, tonight. Rising I went to the kitchen, grabbing a bag I filled it with and available food, and unlocked the door for the first time in four days. Stepping into the hallway I skirted the walls and down the stairs. The elevator was out of service and I had seen enough fire safety videos to know not to take it. It was the smell that hit me first. Gagging I shut the front door to the repulsive smell that came from the street outside. Sliding down the wall I put my head between my knees, hoping to stop the loud ringing in my ears. I had to hurry, or I would miss my only way out. Ripping the bottom of my shirt off, I tied it around my mouth and nose, hoping to block out the smell.
I could do this, I had to. Opening the door I stepped out onto the road. My stomach dropped. The sight was horrific, trying not to look at the faces I ran towards The Garden. Black spots were wavering in my vision, but I pushed the thought of the dead away. There was nothing I could do to help, they are gone now.
Occasionally I would see someone moving the same was I was, but didn’t stop to talk, or even make eye contact.
Sometime around three AM, I reached Madison Garden; there were big men in suites helping people into the helicopters. I was saved, but for how long? Could Iceland keep out the cause forever? How long would humans last?
“Are you alright?” One of the big men said. What a stupid question, how could anyone be alright after what had just happened. Instead on answering I just nodded. And he helped me into the air-craft.

One year later the government had built a rocket that could hold the last of human life. It would take us all to Neptune, where hopefully, we would learn to life. No one knew what had caused all the deaths. No one ever would.