ASHES

A story about an amnesiac,in a dystopian future

ASHES

 

Dead, fallen leaves rustled on the mosaic floor as a lone pair of boots were heard walking gently on the rusted railroads. The dilapidated station crumbling all around him, he walked across the ruined tunnel. Minutes stretched into hours as he surveyed his surroundings. As he scanned the environment, a sense of familiarity settled in. It was nothing major, a sign here and lamp post there, but he held on to them. Fleeting memories that reminded him that these tunnels were once busy, and the rush of man and machinery once filled these caverns. Now there was just a still and deathly silence. His gaze soon fell upon a sign. ‘New York’. So, that’s where he was. At least he knew this cities name. If only… if only he could remember his own. He turned to the wall beside him, and punched it hard in frustration. Every time he tried to remember, he felt like he was trying to climb a wall. All his memories were brimming on the other side, but the higher he climbed, the longer the wall seemed to get. Sickened by the cruelty of his own mind, he kept on walking. Left foot, right foot, left foot, right foot, that’s all he could remember. He was an automaton, tireless, walking and walking and walking. He kept walking until his foot crunched onto what seemed like paper. Curiosity got the better of him, and he looked down. He was stepping on a newspaper. Excited with the prospect of more knowledge of his surroundings, he picked it up. His eyes read the title in bold, “China devoured by the Black Star”. The Black… what? His eyes scanned the article, hungry for information. He paused, and looked at the date. 19^th November, 2145. His eyes widened in shock and he dropped the newspaper as a memory rushed into his head. This… this wasn’t his year. He struggled to remember, squinting his eyes in concentration as the shards of his fractured memories struggled to fit into place. He remembered. He remembered a machine, an explosion, a blinding light. He remembered being alive, and being dead at the same time. He remembered being one with time itself. A wave of nausea hit him. This was unnatural. He shouldn’t be here. As a growing sense of panic gnawed at his insides, he did the only thing he knew how to do. He walked. He walked away from who he was, who he is, what he would become. He walked away from fear, from logic, from existence. Then, he kneeled in defeat. He kneeled and wept. He wept silently, contemplating his existence, or lack thereof. He wept and stared at the sky, hoping for some sort of release from the agony of the demons inside him. Who was he, when was he, where was he from? He watched through his teary eyes as a curious looking jet flew above him. A voice boomed,” DEPLOY THE BLACK STAR”. He watched as it released… something. It was a black raindrop, serene, beautiful. He watched as time slowed down and the raindrop spun as it fell to the earth. It seemed almost obscene, such a beautiful little thing amidst so much chaos. As he watched, he felt something stir in his mind. Perhaps some higher being gave pity on him. Perhaps the world had gifted him mercy. He felt one more memory fit into place. It was a name. Jeremiah. He slowly opened his eyes, and he smiled for the first time that he remembered. He liked that name, Jeremiah. It reminded him of the childhood he did not have. The parents he did not remember. He was a paradox, a light both on and off at the same time. He did not care. All he cared about was that one name. His name. It was the only thing that mattered to him now. He held onto that name. He held onto it like a child holds on to its mother’s love. It was all that mattered to him now. Everything else was ashes.

Reviews

[Eliezer]

Very nice. The mystery behind the protagonist's identity and the state of the world kept me interested the entire time. I also enjoyed your use of metaphors throughout the story.