Dirge of Gaia

It was a normal day, at a normal time, at a normal place. It was normal until the radio station changed to the government-warning channel. The man working for the government spoke in a weary, pained voice. He told us that this was not a test. This was not a joke. This is an official notice. The Earth spins closer to the sun at an alarming rate- we were going to fall into the sun, and we could do nothing to stop it. By the end of the month, we would die.

I was stunned. I was shocked. I was scared. Could it be?

Traffic got thicker, and within minutes there was mass panic and chaos. A car crash on the highway in front of me blocked the road. Since I could drive no further nor back, I pulled over and grabbed my purse, and got out of the car. I knew it wasn't worth stealing and just left it as it was. It would probably go up in flames from a fire in the nearby accident, and I wasn't going to sit around and wait for the fuel tanks to explode. I walked away. My mind felt weak and blurry. I didn't know where I was, but I stumbled on anyway. I got to a stretch of city in the desert of southern CA. I walked to a diner and sat down at a bench, rubbing my face. It was painful to know I'd never taste the future I dreamt of. The panic in the streets mostly stayed outside, with people running to find their loved ones and to try to find more information. Some of them started to build bomb shelters, but I knew that it wasn't worth while.

I flipped open my phone as my eyes blurred with tears. I tried to call my mother, but the line was busy. I tried to call my father, but the line was busy.  I called my love, but the line was busy. There I was, in a foreign town, alone, armed with only the clothes on my back, a few dollars, and a phone. I removed my glasses and laid my head against the table sobbing, and a waitress sat down with me, knowing that it wouldn't be worth her time to leave with how dangerous the streets were getting with mobs and fearful people running around. Her arms were around my shoulders, and I could feel the light press of her acrylic nails against my shoulder.

I was embarrassed for crying like that and quickly tried to dry my tears. I looked at her, to see an average looking woman with light brown, curly hair and lipstick that was too dark for her skin. She was probably in her early 40s. She smiled wearily at me, "I'd love to go home and be with my kids, but I probably wouldn't get there."

We sat in silence for a while after that, watching the television in the corner, waiting for updates. All the channels were down, with the government warning flashing across the screen. We and a couple chefs from the back room ended up sleeping there, locking and boarding up the place until the outside world was calmer.

The next morning we woke up hot. It was unusually hot. Fortunately the air conditioner was turned on shortly afterwards so we weren't too uncomfortable afterwards. The television suddenly made noise, and the same man's voice from before made another announcement. There was nothing that the U.N.'s top scientists could do to stop this catastrophe. We ate breakfast, still in silent shock.

A knock on the door, and after a bit of hesitation we let a man in. He was from Texas, and he looked the part. He had a shotgun, a large pocket knife, and a cowboy hat paired with a black wife beater and dirty jeans. He had a group of ten people with him, all from different areas of the world. They'd walked all the way here from the airport across town, looking for somewhere that wasn't already locked up.

We let them in and we ate together, the waitress doing her best to smile for everyone and the chefs just trying to pretend it was a normal shift. Her hair was messy from sleep and she looked a bit sicker than yesterday.

I tried the phone again. I still couldn't get through....

We went outside a while later, into the extreme heat. All the local grasses and trees were starting to die, and the streets were quiet. Up in the sky, the sun seemed to bigger than before.

The day was long. So long. The sun rose at 5 am and had set at 10 pm. We knew we were going to roast if we stayed outside, but we couldn't help but spend some time hoping we'd find a way to our loved ones.

The next day, the waitress was crying. She begged Texan for his gun, but he refused, slamming his hand on the table and yelling how his gun was going to be used to protect us, not to mercy kill us. One of the women who came with Texan and her husband went out with the shotgun to collect supplies. They returned with some food from another business (abandoned) and a nearby hospital's medical supplies.

It was so hot the next day, our air conditioner could barely keep us from feeling like we were melting. It was 100 degrees inside, and somewhere near 150 outside. The ground already showed cracks, and fires were everywhere any plants had been.

The sun was even closer still.

The waitress begged the Texan for his gun again. He denied her and made a group rule: any suicides are to be done with his knife. Whether you ask for help is your choice, but the knife has to be returned somehow.

The waitress sat with me for a while, talking about her family. I told her about mine, and we agreed that we missed them so much, but we knew that we couldn't get home from here. She hugged me and called me her daughter she didn't know she had before going to the back room to cry. Shortly later, the waitress took some morphine from the married couple and drank a few beers, then her and the Texan went outside and walked a few blocks before I lost sight of them. The Texan returned alone. I cried for the waitress, as she'd reminded me of my mother, and having her gone was a painful reminder that I'd never see my mother again. The phone no longer had a connection to the network today.

The next day, the air conditioner stopped working. We ate frozen potatoes from the freezer and anything that didn't require heat to make. The two chefs sat at tables all day, drinking beer and telling stories about their families and their pasts. The married couple left our group, but they were kind enough to leave the medical supplies with us.

I felt more alone today than ever. Everyone was quiet, everyone was hot, and everyone was dying. Every face of the others I saw had blisters and burns, even if they stayed inside. My skin cracked and split if I moved the wrong way. Today, the sun was as large as if you'd hold a dinner plate above your head and look at it.

It was so hot. We were baking. The Texan took a walk with someone else from the group, away from the diner. I went to follow them, because I wanted to know if suicide was what I wanted or not.

I didn't make it very far.

I collapsed ten feet out the door, the Texan and the other man were barely wavy images in the heat of the baking pavement. I could feel the stinging sensation from the pavement against my skin, searing. I couldn't get up, so I just turned over to look at the sky.

The atmosphere was burning a bright orangey-gold. It was beautiful. In the center of my view, the huge sun shining like a spotlight. It was yellow but at this close, I could feel my vision fading while red and orange solar flares erupted. It was beautiful. It was horrifying. I had never felt so alone. My tears stung against melting flesh.

It was futile, I realized, that I tried to survive this long. I would die slowly and painfully, since I could not get up. We knew we were going to die from that first day, yet we still tried to survive. I realized that it was because even though we knew surviving was not an option, we didn't want to die alone.

I made a fist in my hand, my now blinded eyes shut slowly, imaging what could have possibly happened to my mother, to my father, and to my love. I wished to hold each of their hands, or to hold them in my scalded arms. Even to hear their voices would comfort me. I wished so desperately that things could have been different. I accepted my fate and resented it too. I did not live my dream. I did not see my loved ones again. I died alone.

And more painful than my dying body, the burning memory of how normal life had been only a week before.