That was ten years ago now, the bombs birthday, and yet I still haven’t forgotten the scene, the horror and the pain. The people and the lives I used to know and have are all gone now, and forever. The life I live now is full of pain and strife, struggling to survive on a daily basis, and yet I keep on living,struggling,striving just to live a bit longer. Now we come full circle, back to where I started, and I find myself among a sea of rotten green vines and decaying grass, in what used to be my home. My house has been ransacked and looted, and the paint of the house has long since stopped existing among this sea of putrid green and rotten atmosphere. The brick and tile of most buildings has been eroded to indescribable shapes and twisted features cover food stores and buildings, the text being ineligible. The clothes I'm wearing now are torn and blood-ridden, to show that I'm not a stranger to these lands. The people who survived the bombs, the “luckys” seemed to have gone mad, and began killing eachother over the smallest morsels of food and water. The powers of electricity had long been forgotten, because the men behind the methods were now dead, leaving the stranglers of humanity to fend off the darkness by its own wits. I was one of the few luckys to not go completely crazy, instead falling into a depressive state, but still wanting to live for the others I lost. I can remember most of their faces now, of joy and happiness, now replaced by grief and death. 

I began my long and dangerous trek from my camp in Fort Arthur, the makeshift base for the luckys, to a supposed civilization on the outskirts of the city. I said my farewells to the people I had learned to be acquainted with and set off on my journey. The map I was given was crudely drawn and made using chalk and stone, although I didn’t need it. I had lived here all my life and knew my way around the city. The oil reserves had long since been dried, and if there was any left, no one knew how to get it, so I began to walk. The journey to the city followed a path through the main household districts and the forest. In the main housing district, I was likely to be attacked by looters and ransackers, but the risk was worth taking if we could make contact with another civilization. I wasn’t so afraid of being attacked, because of my tall frame and build, but the thought of pre-bomb guns scared me, so I put together a makeshift suit of scraps and metal, to hopefully block incoming fire in the worst case scenario. The suit probably wouldn’t last long, as it was shoddily made and not very held together. I pressed onward, continuing my walk into oblivion and began on the path that was laid out for me. I couldn’t imagine what life would have been like if the bombs had never dropped, if the pain never fell, but if I could, I would strive for that everyday. The first part of the walk was the easiest, being in the city and knowing my way around, I was able to stealthily move from building to building, avoiding the main streets. I was stealthily making my way, when I heard crying and sniffling, a sound fairly common in these wastelands, but what was confusing was that it sounded as if they were laughing. Then the voice from outside the building yelled “Get Him!” and then from the bushes there was a gang of 5 people outside the building, screaming and yelling for me to come out. This meant I had somehow gotten caught when I was sneaking through the city streets. I had to act quickly or they would be on me in seconds. I decided that the best course of action in this dilemma was to leave from the way I came in, through a busted hole in the wall. I checked around me and heard the scurrying of many feet below. They were still trying to find a way to get up here, and with the stairs destroyed the only option was to climb, but I doubt those who’ve lost it would think of that. I took off the makeshift armor I had, as it would have made too much noise, and began to sneak towards the exit. Every step I took was laboured and I was worried for my safety, but the commotion they were making was too loud for them to hear me leave. 

Back on the “road” again, I was more careful to check behind me and around corners. I was sure that they hadn’t followed me because when I made it to the forest, the only sound was the wind and my breathing. The forest isn’t what you imagine when thinking about that word. It was brown and dead in some parts where the fire had reached, but in other parts the wildlife and plantlife had been flourishing without the “help” of man's deeds. The plant and animals were irradiated, and it was dangerous to pass through this area without protective equipment, but the most we could muster up was some rubber boots,gloves and a gas mask, other than that I was a sitting duck.I began wading my way through the more swampy parts of the forest, the stench and feel of which was cold and slushy. My boots were filled with sludge, and it was almost up to my thigh. When I started to see where the shoreline was, I heard a voice behind me say “Freeze.” The voice was a man, whose voice sounded gruff and coarse as he said the word that had shook me to my core. Before I was able to react, I heard the unmistakable sound of a bullet being clicked into a chamber. 

Guns and bullets were an oddity in these wastelands because the manufacturers have long since been dead. With no one to make the guns, people resorted to fighting with primitive weapons like spears, bows and shanks, so when I heard the sound of a bullet being loaded into its chamber, I was petrified. The man said through a gas mask

“Take all of your belongings and hand them over before I shoot.”

The threat from the man wasn’t empty, as I heard the click of the hammer. I said to him 

“Alright, i'll do as you say”

I began to take of my backpack and hand it over to him but then he said:

“Not just your backpack and weapons, I want your gas mask.”

“But that's not-” He cut me off as I turned to face him

“You heard what I said, I'm not messing around!” He shook the gun to remind me of it.

Now I was fully turned to my oppressor, and saw that it was a slender but lean man, holding the gun shakily and his bright blue eyes darting about frantically. His clothes remind me of what a school janitor would wear, blue cargo jacket and torn blue jeans.

He looked as if this was his first time ever threatening someone, the way he nervously stood there waiting for me to respond sold it. 

“Alright, just give me a second to take it off.” I said nervously, as I unbuckled the mask, I felt the humid and putrid air hit me like a truck. The stench of the swamp and the surrounding area brought tears to my eyes, as did the radiation. I held my breath as I reached the hand with my mask in it out to him. He cautiously went to take the mask from me, whilst using the hand not holding the gun. Once he grabbed the mask I yanked on it, causing him to fall forward into the thick mud. He pulled the gun out of the mud to end me, but the muck had jammed the gun, leaving him defenseless on the ground and with no more leverage against me, I began to push. I pushed as hard as I possibly could, the screams and struggles of this man made the task much harder, but I was keeping his head under the mud nonetheless. The moral ambiguity of my actions sickened me, as I was left with the body of a broken man, and his blood on my hands. The actions I had commited had come before my moral thoughts, and in my rash haste to survive, I had taken any chance this man ever had to live. The thought of this sickened me to my very core, as I looked at the man, no older than I am, dead. My actions tainted my soul, but my journey had to be continued for everyone else. 

I began my trek back onto the intended path and eventually made it to the shore of the swamp. I had suffered minor wounds from that scrap, but it wasn’t anything life threatening, I told myself. I had made my way out of the swamp after what had felt like an eternity, and now I found myself in the most ‘normal’ part of the forest. This part of the forest was bright green and flourishing with radiation and animals that had survived the blasts, such as bugs and birds. This part of the journey had given me time to reflect on what life was like before the bombs, with my family and friends, and how those thoughts and people were forever gone and erased in a couple of bright flashes and sirens. Those people that had been erased, that's what I am doing this for. The thought of other people, rebuilding and flourishing amongst the wreckage and chaos of this earth was what kept me going. Sadly, the ghosts in my mind can’t help me now. Those specters of my past have long since infected me, and seem to follow me everywhere, but now after taking the life of another, the voices became quiet. Up ahead on the trail, I saw bright flashing red lights at the end of the forest, where the exit normally would be open. I started walking towards the lights cautiously, being sure to avoid the main path and take some side routes to avoid being seen. I eventually was close enough to see and hear what was happening. The blockade to the forest was made by what little government was left over. There were two heavily armored guards posted outside of the blockade, holding weapons that surpassed anything an average bandit or raider could muster up and scrounge together, their clothes were black and clean, with the blue government mandated patches on their shoulders, to track their locations. The scene behind them was horrendous, although the guards showed little to no care for it, many scarred and ash ridden bodies littered the area, their poses forever frozen in time, their faces forever stricken with horror and fear, as they had to watch their impending doom. Theses bodies were the result of the less fortunate that didn’t survive the bombing. The government was probably here to clean the area, to try and erase their terrible past deeds. The next scene was soulless and without thought, as the cleaning agents went around and dismembered the bodies so they were easier to get rid off, I was sneaking around the outer rim of the base. The base itself was fancy, but their rushed visit meant that a proper barricade couldn’t be established, and they had to settle for a barbed wire fence. I started making my way around the roadblock, because the government doesn’t like people seeing their past actions, and was about to the other side when I heard a whistle blow. The whistle blow had come from a large gruff man carrying a lethal assault rifle and looking at me angrily he said:

“State your business in this area at once, else you will be executed.”

“I was just making my way around the blockade to the city beyond.” I said calmly

“I’m sorry sir, but I can't let you do that, that area is off limits by order of governor Strong.”

“Can I speak with a supervisor about this?”

“I can go get the supervisor of this camp, but if you try anything funny, we have permission to shoot on site.”

“I understand sir.”

The man then walked away, and once his back was turned to me, I took off in a mad sprint towards the direction of the supposed civilization. I didn’t take any second to check if he saw, because I knew the instant I turned around I would be riddled with holes, so I ran as fast as I possibly could, but I knew my effort was fruitless when I heard the ring of high caliber bullets flying past me. I ran even faster than I knew I could, but they were no amateurs, and in moments they were after me, firing like mad men and yelling orders at me and each other, As far as I knew they were no different then the bands of scavengers that roamed these lands. They were all mentally broken and unstable, seeming to be full of holes, but no physical injuries. The bullets whizzed past as I made my way to sanctuary, a small town of mostly still together houses and overgrown plants. I made my way in, out and around the houses trying to trick them into leaving me, as I was a target not worth the trouble. The bait worked eventually, and after about an hour of scarce running, they ended up retreating back to their base. After all the commotion I began back onto my path and I figured that there was probably A barricade on both sides of the city, to stop entry and exit. I began my trek back onto the roads when my vision became blurry, and everything around me seemed to be fading in and out. It seems that in all the commotion and excitement, with the adrenaline rushing through me, I hadn’t realized I was covered in bullet wounds. Two on my left arm, and three in my chest. I was losing blood fast, and with nothing to stop the bleeding and my inevitable demise, I decided on my last and only option. I loaded up the one flare I had in case of emergencies, and I shot into the sky. The sun was high up now, and the warmth on my cold skin was refreshing as I shot my last and only flare into the sky, the red light became brighter and brighter until it took the shape of the sun, and engulfed my cold vision with red warmth as I took my last breath on this earth.