I was the last person on the earth, and there was a knock at the door..

A creative piece that I wrote a long time ago.

 

 “I was the last person on earth and there was a knock at the door.”

 

            I was the last person on earth and there was a knock at the door.  I hopped down from my birch-brown stairs with each step drawing a dose of curiosity and terrifying thoughts in my mind.  I wondered who it could be as the whole species of Homo sapiens were exterminated by the atomic bomb.  I opened the door and saw it was just a black cat scratching its yellow nails on my golden door knob. In fact, it wasn’t a knock at all just my mind playing with my hopes.  I looked at it and it gave a loud yet soft yawn.  I watched its small sharp canines hanging out while a drop of saliva dripped from its pink tongue.  It had keen eyes, and the pupil was lime with dark shades around it.  It went through my legs without even asking permission to enter my residence.  It jumped on my LazyBoy 3000, licked its shoulder cleaning the dust of its tattered fur and slept bringing down its eyelid. 

            I closed the door and went up stairs in one of my rooms and looked at my family’s picture inside a black frame leaning against my wall.  I saw my dad’s picture with his thick black mustache wearing a red shirt with blocks.  He had brown khakis and dark shoes.  I also saw my mom’s picture as she was wearing a parrot colored sari with matching colored bangles around her wrist.  Lastly, I saw my big brother with his huge body, short height and mobster chains dangling on his neck.  He had boot-fit jeans wearing the Italian jersey which was placed tightly against his chest.  There was no picture of me…as the last time I saw my picture was on a shredded Polaroid with my wife. 

            My love, family, friends has become as some would say ancient history.  I sometimes try not to cry but I can’t as human beings always resort to sobbing to evaporate the pain which lurks through their chest.  I feel me being alive is just one of God’s handiworks for giving me chastisement for all the sins I committed.  I watched everyone die before my eyes had the chance to blink and I buried their remains inside the dead earth.  Now I am a twenty-five year old man with one missing leg and lying on my death bed writing a story of my life.  I miss my love as I can’t tell you her name as this would resort to me crying which will wet the ink of this page and than you would not be able to read.  However, I can give you a vague description of her.  She was a free-spirit who was intelligent, modest and chaste (pure).  Her beauty had bewitched me as she was free from all the bondages of society.  She had dark black eyes, a smile that would capture any eyes and black blonde hair. The word “beautiful” is not even enough to describe her as I could take all the adjectives from the dictionary and still they can’t provide an explanation for how elegant she was.  She didn’t need tight paints, mini-skirts, plaster of makeup, red lipsticks, eye contacts or any kinds of exposure to stand out or display her prettiness.  Her physical beauty was inside a vile which was a vessel for her intelligent mind.  I remember at first when I opposed to marry her but eventually I did for the happiness of my parents than I had found the true beauty of feminity.  I remember how I used to play with her hair and how she reminded me of repentance and being faithful or obedient to God-Almighty. 

I bet it was God’s plan of sending such an angel from the heavens to a tortured soul like me.  A tortured soul who had found tranquility in marijuana.  A tortured soul who used to go and hunt for meat at night clubs.  A tortured soul who loved pornography for the fulfillment of lust and adrenaline.  She was the lamp for getting me out of my dark cave.  She was my black glasses to see the world more clearer.  She helped me get rid of my addictions, countless sins and vein talks.  God, I miss her presence.

I try to flush the past but it never goes down the drain.  I can now see the sleepy black cat that now was walking towards me with its tails curved like a backward “C.”  It reminded me of death. The only word that triggers the fear of all beings and the opposite divine force of aliveness.  I sometimes find it humorous how men and women goes to funerals in dark cloths without realizing that someday they will be the corpse in that wooden coffin.  They will be utterly alone under the soil while bacteria eat up the body and bags of fat turn to oil for fossil fuels.  Now as I am sitting at my death bed while breathing for air, I will experience that inevitable force soon and it’s just a few more moments until the angel of death walks in to collect my soul.  I wonder if it will hurt or if I will be able to hear the scream of my soul.  I hope when I die I will be with my love.  Now I think I will drop this pen and give a sincere advice to you my reader which is:

 

Time is a ruthless dimension full of tick-tocks and ring-rings,

It is an inevitable force that we can’t avoid,

It matures our mind and bodies just like the contagious steroid,

It gives us a new beginning, another chance and a fresh new start,

To execute our past mistakes, flaws and regrettable elements,

It is something that never stops,

It accompanies the movement of the sun, moon, stars, clouds and rain drops,

So the morality of all human beings should be to not waste time,

For it will be indeed a very painful, disgraceful and a disappointing crime.

 

Author's Note

Tell me what you think.

Reviews

[Floornine]

I love this! It really enjoyed reading it. You have so much amazing imagery and wording and thoughts all combined into a piece that takes something almost untouchable and brings it into the spectrum of everyday living... and not living. You're first line is brilliant and so is the rest.