Daisy, a short story

[Dumbledore lives]

So I often write random stories, inspired by images or movies or just about anything really. So recently I found a story I wrote maybe half a year ago, and decided to share it with the playground and see what they think.

The image it was inspired by is spoilered below, though be aware it's fairly large.

Spoiler

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Daisy

It’s not often you walk along a road knowing you are walking to your death. It is even less often that you do it willingly, knowing the consequences of your actions and more importantly knowing why you’re doing what your doing. Those bastards caused it all, and taking down even one cog in the war machine will make it all worth it, especially once the vids come out, they’ll see me offering peace and see the coalition offering only war and death.

I wouldn’t have done this a month ago, or even a week, but now I have nothing left. They have taken everything, and for no reason. We did nothing and yet they destroyed and killed and left only waste in their path. We tried to reason with them but they wouldn’t listen, they called us freaks and monsters but we’re not, we’re humanity just like them, whether or not they listened they will hear us now, once our turn begins.

They’re selfish, narcissistic, believing themselves above us, they’re the heroes and we are the monsters, but it’s not that, it’s not that at all. I’m walking down a dead road to my own end, but I don’t feel sad. I’m happy, despite all the devastation that has happened, despite all the loss it will be over soon, before too long we might even win a chance, a chance to live. I die so that others may live, it is worth it.

The school that I used to go to lies destroyed just beyond the hill. I know where it is, I can imagine the route I walked everyday to my class, but I can’t go there anymore, they bombed it to hell. The radiation wouldn't kill me, but it would kill any hopes I had of surviving the next year. It seems silly now, trying to survive for so long, I never knew it would end like this. They taught us nuclear weapons were a thing of the past, that the use of them now would be too destructive, too powerful to see the light of day. I saw their lights, and it looked like a god had come down to smite us all for wrongdoings we never did.

We all read the news, we heard that they were working on something, something big. The Eastern coalition was also working on something, they all were. No one was sure what started it, there were rumors of meteorites or scientific breakthroughs or maybe just a dumb coincidence, but the point was everyone was doing something, furiously.

It would have been the weapon to end all others if anyone discovered and used it first. They said it would be an even better deterrent than nuclear weapons. They lied. It did nothing but escalate, over and over until someone pulled the trigger, pushed the button. No one knows who really started it anymore, maybe no one ever knew. Once the dust cleared there were so few left compared to what was before. Now there’s only The Coalition, no national divisions before, just us vs them, and I'm a member of the them.

The infection is over, it’s not spreading. In our run down little apartment there were a few who weren’t affected, and remained unaffected for weeks, before they were slaughtered just like the rest. Every time we try to talk we get met with gunfire, so we have to fight back. We started with that old Hippy crap from so long ago, putting flowers in guns, trying for a peaceful solution. It was met with death. We tried a leader waving a white flag. It was met with death. We tried showing them the un-infected among us. Nothing remains of those brave individuals.

After so long you just can’t live with things like that anymore. I decided I wasn’t one to give up though, I still had my family, at least all those who weren’t killed in the initial dustings. I used to complain about how out of the way and stupid this little town was; now I’m so glad for it. The major centers were just about all destroyed, but they can’t afford to destroy smaller places like this and have to send in ground forces, forces that can be hurt, can be killed.

It just gives them more ammunition to support their arguments to what stands for a justice committee now, but at this point it doesn’t matter, they will try to kill us all anyway, we can only make it so costly that they stop. Death can be a sobering thought, and I’ve been thinking about it a lot in the last day or so, but in the end it’ll be a relief. No more running or hiding, no more worrying, simple, whatever lies on the other side it’ll be better than this, even if it’s nothing.

I remember the times before and it drives my steps. It was all their fault, and they hate us now because of it. Our existence feeds their guilt so we need to be stamped out, we’re a danger to them, the infection could spread they say in their full hazard suits on top of their podiums far from all of this. We don’t see them anymore though, the bombs wiped them all out, though it didn’t wipe us all out.

I thought I was safe, I thought I was immune nothing happened for so long. I was not. Dad he was hit the worst, tried to protect us all, decided to see if it was safe, he lost both his legs and much of his torso, it all just melded into nothingness, I had never seen anything like it before, even acid didn’t destroy with such malice. He was dead before too long, maybe a week, maybe less, it was difficult to tell because the sky was so clouded with the poison that night and day meant little.

Mom was the next, she lost most of her arm, just gone, unfortunately the plague leaves marks, all over, indicating exactly who the soldiers need to shoot. It was less than a month before the cities were bombed, and not too long after that the soldiers started rolling in. She just wanted to ask them a question, walked up assuming they were peacekeepers, sent to help. She didn’t get within ten feet before they shot her. No mercy for the wicked so they say.

It took weeks before it happened to me, and it was slow. I know eventually it’ll devour me whole, but I’ve got years before that happens. For now it’s just my arm. It doesn’t control us, it just hurts, the constant pang of loss from something that isn’t even gone yet. That’s not why I’m doing this though, it’s a war and some things simply have to be done.

I know that I’m close to my target now, I here the slight crunch of gravel as a tank rolls down main street, prowling for us. No doubt flanked by several of their murderers, and a lieutenant, always a decision maker in every patrol. There are fewer than a hundred of us left throughout this city where there used to be thousands. They’re not content to slowly let us die however; they have to kill us completely and absolutely. If any of us are left alive we might threaten their precious existence.

They only have one patrol per town, though they switch off around regions. Taking down one just means there will be more soon, but their army is not infinite, and with enough resistance they’ll just leave, we’re just one town out of thousands after all.

Right near the middle of town there was a park, a beautiful oasis in the middle of so much industry. There was an oak tree that had stood for god knows how many years, eternal in its watch of the town. They said if it ever fell so would the town, and everyone treated it with respect. The infection actually doesn’t do anything to plants, just kills humans and animals; I don’t think they know why. Hell even the nukes didn’t do anything, but the patrols just came through, not a care in the world, and rammed it to the ground, burned it. Apparently it might have spread the infection.

Now the park is a playground of ash and skeletons, as it’s the dumping place from the soldier’s waste. Nothing alive there. Nothing, except for a single daisy. I don’t know how, but a single flower is left alive, I walk over, ash feeling like sand between my toes. As I reach down and pick it; it is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I know this will be the last decent thing I ever see., and that makes it something special. I pause to marvel at life, in all its madness and grandeur.

The moment is disrupted by the chatter of a radio from just around the next corner. They’re coming, I have to go. I leave dusty footprints as I walk through the graveyard. The bones are indistinguishable from one another, but I imagine the ones on top are my mother and father and I pray they are alright now. This should not be my battle, but it is, and we should all be still alive, but I guess the world doesn’t work that way. Now is the time, I walk into the street.

Battered and destroyed buildings lie to both sides, with rubble stacked up haphazardly, off the road but with no care for anything else. Just up ahead is one of the rumbling war machines, great in its destructive power. A top it rides three men, I don’t know which, if any, are the men that killed my friends and family, but they are all to blame. They can’t see the explosives strapped to my back, enough to blow them to hell and farther. Maybe even the leaders will see the explosion, and quake in their boots for the storm that is rising.

One of them sees me, he readies his weapon, and I prepare for something that has been a long time coming. He doesn't shoot though, in fact he looks unsure of himself. I can't stop now though, there is no other option but to keep moving forward. I begin walking towards them, holding the daisy as a sort of peace offering. The others see me now, and shoulder their weapons, maybe they'll be see me as the thing they all fear. One looks like he'll do it, blow my head off. It won't matter, their deaths are tied to a dead-man's switch. Nothing really matters anymore.

*Click*. Bang.