Hated Obligations

The story of the newest New Testament's Adam and Eve, in this case named Greg and Summer. (A very short, still techically work-in-progress story of the last two humans after the end of the world)

I cannot describe in great detail the images that haunt my mind. On the pain of my own sanity, my mental psyche has blurred these details and memories over time, so that they may not continue to grind down upon my will and force me to go mad in rememberance. To be the last one of one's race is hard, to be the last two of one's race and forced with the option of recreating that race with someone you hate is even harder. And so, staring at Greg as we sit in this smoking building, of which the last of the fire has finally been extinguished, I cannot help but feel revulsion at the thought of what we must do.

Miserably undetailed faces of past friends and family gone are in my mind, and I know that if we hope to rebuild what has been lost due to the stupiness of humans, I must do the unthinkable and breed a family with the last surviving male member of my species. I remembered the smell of the caves, and the rumble as the ceiling crashed down on us when the bombs hit. It had been a game of battleship between the countries, guess what country your enemy's military was in, bimb everything so that we win first, before their bombs sink our armed hopes. This was the game they played, and the only reason we had lived was because our school had been taking a field trip to the caves, and it had been me and Greg's turn to be underground with our guide who's rope broke and was not seen again.

By the time we finally hauled each other onto the ground, it was not the earth we had left looming above us, but a smoking, desolate waste field of which only one metal structure, the dam, had survived partially intact, though fires ravaged at its inners. So, together, we had walked and sought more people. There were not even skeletons. I knew that hours earlier, we had bombed China into practical oblivion and were about to  bomb them once more, but the bombs had been launched from across the country.

Somehow, though, we just knew that we were the last ones, because we had gotten the best grades in Mr. Ropen's class and were allowed to go first to explore the caves on the field trip. Flesh had been burned from bone, and bone had been disintigrated, for there were no remains save for the hollow screams the wind still echoed.

Greg pulled me out of my momentary loss of sanity with his rumbling stomach. I sighed, if we were to spend the rest of our lives surviving, we might as well start now. So, together, hand in hand, we walked in the general direction of the ocean, the only natural world that might have escaped man's devastation and still bear food for the two luckiest- or unluckiest- souls on Earth.

Author's Note

I know it is short, so maybe ignore length for now, but everything else is fair game for you to tear apart. Thanks for the help...