Ivory through the dirty glass, its cracks and the light of the dawn her only company in this moment. She wasn't alone at first. She was always surrounded by loving family and true friends.
Everything was perfect. She was celebrating her birthday on August 16 56; she had reached twelve years old. It was a fun birthday.
Her friends, both virtual and in person, all came to visit. There were cake gifts and party poppers. Many of us played holographic bowling in the backyard while the BOTS made slightly burnt burgers on the grill.
They tasted horrible, but she didn't care; it was her birthday. Then burning dots in the distance started falling from the sky as sirens wailed through the down.
She couldn't help but cry. She didn't fully understand, but fear and anger were all she felt. Parents grabbed her friends and ran inside as BOTS was broadcasting information.
She wasn't listening, though. All she knew at the time was that something had been dropped and they needed to get inside.
Ivory cried and cried; she was inconsolable. Yet everyone was in the basement. Where her dad slammed the door shut. BOTS was still outside, probably turning the already dry burgers into lumps of charcoal.
Then the world shook, and everything went dark. It wasn't quite by any means either. Over and over, we felt the basement move. We saw cracks form in our concrete surroundings. At that point, she wasn't the only one crying.
Like herself, the others sobbed and whimpered, parents hugging their children like her own parents were hugging her. All the adults using their bodies to protect us shield us from harm.
They didn't try to console us, for we were all scared. Tears dripped from her father's chin, and they fell on her face. He was just as scared as she was.
It took only five minutes for everything in the world to go wrong. When we left the house, half of it was dust particles in the wind, while the other half was nearly ready to collapse. BOTS was melted into smithereens. The plastics and metal parts are melting and separating into piles of goo.
If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.
Ivory looked around and sniffled her tears already shed as she had nothing left to cry. Dust, dirt, ash, and cinders, it was a tango on her tongue she would never forget nor desire to experience again.
So they left, they traveled, and moved. She didn't know what was going on at first, but it turned out that her own family, her friends' family, and other survivors were walking a similar trek.
We walked and walked till we kids couldn't walk anymore. So the adults picked us up and kept walking, taking turns as we slept on their backs.
Words from mom, "I'm hungry and more," were heated throughout the walk. Most had already started grouping together along a path she didn't yet know.
When it was closer to night, her stomach roiled and protested. She had been so ready to have some cake, yet she was denied. All because of what her mind told her was a disaster.
It was dark; many slept in the streets. No fires were out, as there was nothing more to burn. Houses were set asunder, grass was ripped from the ground, and trees fell like dominoes. If one wished, they only had to walk a few feet to stand next to the roaring flames of what had once been a home.
Ivory was held in the arms of both her parents, soft kisses pressed to her forehead as she slept. Her parents slept with her in their arms till the sun's light illuminated the world once more.
It took a while, but soon we all arrived at a build she didn't know about.
"Mom, Dad, what is that?" She had pointed, and her parents smiled sadly.
"Our new home, sweetie. Our new home." They repeated the line our new home with such pain and sadness that she cried.
"I wanna go back home, I wanna have cake and play games. I don't like this." She had an outburst. With her words and tears, others began to cry, wailing once more. But the parents carried us inside.
Oh, how she could remember those days clearly. Like it was but a few hours ago. Yet here she was three years later and dying of organ failure.
Many children like herself experienced the same thing: pain, weakness, and confusion. One thing at a time, till all that was left was a bone-deep weariness. She knew she was dying.
Her final wish, instead of dying in the arms of others, was to make a simple request. To see the sun one last time. Her parents didn't object. So they brought her here. And gave her a moment, a moment long enough to see the sunrise, then look at her parents.
"Mom, Dad, I'm scared." Tears ran down her cheek as both of her parents ran to her, giving her a crushing hug. She didn't begrudge them their final goodbyes, no matter how bone-crushing the hug was.
Her vision started to fade; she was scared. "W-what does heaven look like?"
"Peace, sweetie, heaven looks like true peace." The last thing she saw and felt was her parents' faces and her mother's fingers running through her hair as her father cupped her cheek.
