Then the World Ended

Dad said there used to be things called nightmares.  These dreams of your worst fears come to life in the middle of the night, leaving you breathing hard in a cold sweat, eyes wide open, terrified to return to sleep.  He said that the deepest fear of humanity was the same, recognized in nightmares.  He might have been right at one point. 

Then the world ended and there were no more nightmares. 

People lived through the day breathing hard, with their hearts in their throats, a cold sweat trickling down their back, afraid to close their eyes.  There were no more nightmares because no one could think up anything worse than what was happening around them.

            There were no more nightmares because there was such a thing as real life that replaced them.  And that’s where the deepest fear of humanity continues to live on.

 

            Mom said there used to be such a thing as dystopian novels.  Dystopia: noun relating to a society characterized by human misery, disease, and overcrowding. Fictional books in which the world had ended because of some communist dictator or genetic engineering or alien invasion.

But that’s not how the world ended.  Minus the human misery bit, that’s not even an apt description.

People used to love these books, she said, because despite the dire situations, a hero or heroine always arose to fight.  These novels talked of the bravery and valor of humanity, of star-crossed love, and a hope that would never die.  They made it seem that deep down there was always goodness and bravery in humanity.

            Then the world ended and no one cared anymore.   

Because, as it turns out, humanity isn’t all that brave after all.  The world made cowards of us all.

 

Dad said there used to be such thing as superheroes, even when he was growing up.  They were one of the last things to die.  People with special powers who were brave and heroic who swooped in, saved the day, and kissed the girl.  Fictional, but universally loved. 

People believed in superheroes, he said, even though they weren’t real.  People believed in the bravery and courage and hope that they brought to a world in peril.  Especially the hope, he said.

Then the world ended and everybody realized that no hero was coming to save it.

‘Cause there were no heroes left

Captain America lived until there wasn’t any America.  Superman until someone realized they could kill him with a stupid green rock.  Iron Man until his suit of armor rusted over.  There was Batman but he died real early because he was just as human as the rest of us. 

And hope, well, hope died out a long time ago.

 

Mom and Dad both agreed that there used to be someone called God.  You don’t hear about him very often nowadays.   Only when talking about the old days.  About the God Bless America’s and the God Save the King’s.  Now there was none of that.

Supposedly, he was this big person who created the world and watched over humanity.  They even said that he became human and died for our sins.

That’s a hell of a lot of sins to die for.

Mom and Dad said that he loved us.  If I lived a hundred years ago, I might have once believed that.

Then the world ended and God didn’t care anymore.

Author's Note

Honest feedback is appreciated.