Burnt Dusk

When she came out of the shelter - she really had no idea what to expect. Would the world be alright? Was it all just a hoax? Would it be safe?

It all started when their father said he had a vision of the end of days. That the world would end during a massive storm, that would shake the earth to its very core. His family ignored him, laughed it off. In his free time, he began building the shelter. Piece by peice. He dug the hole in the yard himself, poured the cement foundation, stocked the shelves with food. It didn't take him long him to complete it. But once it was done, all he had left to do was wait.

And it didn't take long.

She didn't really remember a lot except news reports of the "storm of the century" that was expected to hit that evening, with gail for winds, and inches of rain. Just like any other school night, she got ready for bed, brushed her teeth, said goodnight to her parents, and tucked herself in. It all happened too fast for her to know what was going on. Sh was woken up by her father grabbing her, shaking her, telling her "we have to go." The house was moving. Shuttering. She could see some of the roof had bee pried off. Outside the wind was swirling fast enough that she could see it against the stagnant air inside the house. Before she knew it, she was in the shelter. The lights had kicked out, not because the backup generator wasn't working, but because the filaments in the bulbs must have burst. The walls of the shelter shook violently the whole night, the lights, before dying, swaying back and forth overhead.

She wasn't exactly sure how she had managed sleep, but she did and she was surprised when she woke up. Everyone was still asleep and the walls had stopped shaking. It was deathly quiet. Extremely creepy. It sounded dead in the outside world. Sh knew she shouldn't be doing it, but she couldn't help herself. She had to see what outside looked like.

Opening the hatch, she was surprised. Not a lot of vegetation had been ripped out of the ground. All leaves had been ripped off though and were no where to be found, as if vaporized by the swirling air. Looking around - there didn't seem to be anyone else around, nor their houses. Turning, she realized even their house was a crumpled skeleton of its former self. All the structures of her town were decimated.

There had to be other survivors right?

The air smelled and tasted funny. It was also a strange yellow tint - something clearly lingering in it. She didn't know what to make of it. The situation, the scenario. The possibility of no survivors. No other life. Only death to look forward to.

Thats when she noticed the tree in front of her, the one the family planted when they first moved into the house years and years ago. It was comforting to know it had withstood the storm. Its roots were deep and firm.

Walking up to it, she had noticed something and had her first glimmer of hope.

There, nestled in amongst the dead, burned, gnarled limbs, lay one tiny bud, that was beginning to blossom