In this story, I am to create a beautiful painting from a blank canvas using the stylistic influences of a Post-Apocalyptic world that is drastic from anything else in our society. So here I am, giving the people what they deserve, want, and need.

Enjoy.

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Soft morning coos of birds and the smell of fresh cut grass filled the morning atmosphere. The sun was just barely shining it's big, beautiful light over the place everyone called home. Among the morning light was a single person, silhouetted by the sun's glory. Their back was cast in shadow, but as the sun rose, the light filled the world. The silhouette soon became a girl, her hair long and whispering in the wind. She bent down, intending to pluck a single flower from the ground. The innocent dandelion looked up at her, meeting a pair of deep brown eyes. The sun cast a single sliver of burning auburn into the brown, making the eyes even more beautiful. If the flower could smile, it would. The girl smiled for the flower as she separate the simple plant from the ground, adding it to a bouquet of others like it. Just as she made a few steps forward to pluck another flower, she felt the ground shake. It shook violently, sending her bouqet flying from her hands. She reached out to grab it, but she was falling...


falling...


Falling into a big, deep, black abyss...


The smell of death crawled into every unspeakable crack and crevice left on the face of the planet. There was only destruction left after the terrible fourth world war that had erupted on Earth. The battle had lasted for years, and eventually turned everything and everyone to nothing... except for a misfit gang of people.

"Rosalinaaaa..." called a deep Southern accented timbre.

"..." There were no words. A swift punch came from the sleeping beauty tucked into a hammock. After the punch came a kick, and then the girl rolling out of the rope bed and onto the floor.

"Jesus H. Christ River!" she was angry now, her left hand gliding up to rub on her head. She had bumped it on her tumble to the floor.

"Hey! My bad Rosie-Posie!" a snicker laced fit of laughter managed to inch up River's throat as she took a few steps back.

The punch Rosalina had given him knocked him in the shoulder, and she wasn't that strong. At least not when it came to her punches.

"... Ugh, you make me mad. I don't understand why we're even bunk mates." she said, shoving him as she stood up. He hadn't backed that far away from her. "And stop calling me Rosie-Posie! It's Rosalina, Rose, or NOTHING."

"Because we're the oldest two "kids" that are't related. I think we're betrothed or something." he said, air quoting the word 'betrothed.'

"Like I would ever marry you," she said, rolling her eyes. Her big, brown, beautiful eyes. "Plus we're just barely sixteen. I mean, I'm almost seventeen. Isn't your birthday coming up?"

River got lost in them for a moment, but cleared his throat.

"I reckon we oughta get goin, huh?" he said, kicking his boots onto the floor.

"Uh-huh... Yeah. Hunting before the sun comes up helps make it not smell so bad out there. Even when I wear the mask it stinks," Rosalina said, glossing over the fact that he changed the subject on her. Again. He always did this.


Wearing a gas mask over her face, Rosalina stood just before the doors that lead them out into the world. She was standing in a stark white room that blasted herself and River, as well as the four others in their search party, with a stabilizer agent to prevent their skin from becoming infected with whatever was lurking outside. They all had to be down to their skivvies to recieve the blast, and then they would all get dressed. Of course each person would go one at a time, women first, men second.

Rosalina wasn't sure what it was, but she knew she had seen enough people not properly sprayed get destroyed by it. And it was always by the hands of anyone brave enough to put the people down.

"Yo, Rosie," River called, walking toward the back of the group as they stepped out into the wastes.

"Yeah?" she asked.

"I just wanted to walk with ya I guess."

"Well, don't make it so awkward..."

They both fell silent. Rosalina moved one of her hands to adjust the straps of her backpack. She was wearing gloves upon her hands, a pair of pants, boots, a flanel shirt, and a tanktop beneath that. She did carry a weapon - a simple four inch blade -, and in her pack was a flash light, a small ration of dried bread, and a single bottle of water. Her brown hair was braided and tied up into a bun on the back of her head. above her bun rest the strap of her mask. Part of her wanted to just take it off, breathe in the air, and die already. Eating nothing but one meal a day, and using the rest of the day to search for more food only made her ache from head to toe.

That and she was having the dreams again.

"I'm having them again," she said, stopping dead in her tracks. "The dreams."

She waited for River to say something. Anything. She heard nothing, so she just went on.

"I keep seeing the bombs hitting the city. I can see the city, right here. In all of it's glory... but now... it's just a mess of sand, dirt... nothingness. I see everything when there is nothing. Can't you?" she asked, turning around to face River.

As she turned she looked to see River, his mask laying on the ground.

Running over to him she grabbed it and forced it back over his mouth.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!" she demanded of him, her eyes searching his.

The boy was her age, with black hair, freckles across his nose, and crystal clear blue eyes. Rosalina swore she could see the sky in them. But now they were gone. His pupils were so dilated she could only see her own reflection staring back.

"... I... am... so..." River tried to speak, his whole body looking limp.

"Hungry!" he shouted, life suddenly coursing through his entirety.

"RIVER NO!" she shouted, the rest of the party turning back. There were two older men, and two older women. Buck, Sydney, Alicia, and Jules.

"Rose, get away from him!" called Jules.

It was too late. Rosalina had pulled her knife the moment River started to come at her. She dug it up under his ribs, into his heart, and twisted the blade. Blood coated her gloved hands, and tears started to form in her eyes. The pattern was finally clear. The disease started in the lungs. River must have taken his mask off and breathed in the air.

Quivering in fear of what she had just done, she dropped to her knees. River's body slumped into her lap and she hunched over him, crying into his hair.

She felt like everything around of her was crumbling. She felt like she was falling. Everything became black around of her as she accepted the deep, dark abyss...

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~The End.~


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I hope it was well enjoyed! It's short, but I believe it covers all the bases.