A Return to Simplicity | Teen Ink

A Return to Simplicity

March 12, 2014
By Jacquelyn Clark BRONZE, Natchitoches, Louisiana
Jacquelyn Clark BRONZE, Natchitoches, Louisiana
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

I open my eyes, but the blackness doesn’t go away. Sounds of car horns echo from all directions as I become aware of footsteps running up the staircase. As I reach for my phone, I frantically try to brighten my surroundings but no light appears. My room door bursts open, and I am relieved to hear my mother’s voice.

“Are you alright? We don’t have a lot of time! Grab what you need, but we have to leave very soon,” she pants.

“What’s going on? I can’t even see you!” A light appears just in front of her. The small flashlight illuminates her panicked face making this real.

“Things are getting bad quickly. Get dressed! Grab what’s important and portable.” With that, she throws the light onto my bed and disappears.

I’m frozen as fear and composure each struggle for control. My first thought takes me to my closet as I throw on a sweater and sweatpants. These so don’t match. I grab my backpack and dump out all my books. Whatever is going on, this better be a good enough excuse to get me out of my calculus test. I shove in clothes and decide to leave in the bottle of Aspirin. As I start towards the bedside dresser, a loud little shriek sounds. Whoops, I must have stepped on Penny’s paw. Penny? I almost forgot! I reach down and cradle her into my arms. “I’m sorry, girl. I couldn’t forget you.” I feel her lick my chin as I load some stashed snacks from my bedside. I hear mom calling and know it’s time. One more thing. As I hold my Bible, I feel a bit of reassurance and place it softly on top.

We are ready at the door when I see Mom loading a knife, a liquid, and some cumbersome piece of equipment that I can’t quite make out. From her pack, I see what appears to be a shotgun jutting out. What exactly is going on out there? Before the door opens, I quickly attach Penny’s leash in fear of separation, but fear reaches new heights as I gaze out upon our street. The scene before me is lit by cars ablaze in fiery collisions. Screaming car horns cannot mask all the shrieks of women clutching children and men shouting incomprehensible instructions. Mom grabs my hand, and I scoop Penny up as we join the mass of fleeing people.

Many have been caught in their pajamas or work suits. What time is it? I see no moon. I only see terrorized faces lit up by orange flames. I’m bumped and jostled by people clutching jewelry, money, and all kinds of randoms. Is that a Justin Bieber poster? As we pass the police station, Mom and I split from the crowd. Desperate for answers, we ask to see someone in charge or anyone who knows anything. Meanwhile, officers are loading their weapons and packing their bags as well.

“Sergeant Will here. You’re here to ask what in God’s name is going on? Well ma’am, we have no idea. Electricity in the city is absolutely nonfunctioning. Any connection or communication source we have has no signal, so our phones and computers are completely worthless. Most are already dead.”

“How do you explain the cars? No streetlights caused all those accidents?”

“Well, that’s what’s really worrying us. Everything with an engine died. Just died. Collisions happened everywhere. Cars went through houses, ran over pedestrians, and now have fires raging through the streets. Only something of a wide-scale catastrophe could throw off an electromagnetic pulse similar to this.”

“Meaning?” Mom says, not quite grasping the idea.

“Um, a nuclear bomb, an eruption of solar activity, or something we’ve never seen before could’ve caused this. It’s like technology and society have been taken back a few hundred years. We’ve seemingly gone back to the 1800s...The whole world’s gone mad.”

“The whole world?” I croak.
He shrugs his shoulders. “Believe so. Everyone has to be affected by something with these sort of consequences. Unless, of course, if you live in the rural mountains like the ones above us. We’ve got to go north and begin an era of living off the land again. No telling how long we will be in these dark times. Besides, the cities are no longer safe anyways. Looters have already taken over homes and marketplaces. Criminals flooded out of the prisons once they saw there was no restraining them. My advice: go north and start over.”

Mom pauses to take this all in. She puts her hand on his shoulder slowly as if there isn’t global panic happening right outside the door. “Thank you and good luck to your family.”

He shakes his head, “I was too late. The fires erupted and spread too quickly. My home and family are gone.” We all know this is the first of many sad stories we will come across, but at least Mom and I have each other right now. “But go and trust no one. A desperate humanity is a dangerous and uncivilized one.” Mom and I smile sadly and merge back into the madness outside.
After what seems like an hour of half-walking, half-running, we end up at a major interstate just as the sun begins to rise and shed its light-our only light from now on. It only reveals badly burned bodies and wreckage all around us. Useless, abandoned machinery lie in piles; cars and appliances are just hindrances in our path and things to avoid. The crowd of people has thinned; some have gone other directions and others have stopped to rest. It’s not only the devastation that looms over us-it’s the silence. We hear no hum of cars passing by or birds chirping or anything at all really. We just trudge along in an eerie silence. Occasionally, someone asks about a missing child or friend but is always met with no good news.

We walk for most of the day stopping only twice. Mom and I don’t eat, drink, or speak. We are numb. I alternate carrying Penny and letting her walk since I worry about her little legs. At some point, the amount of people has thinned to about ten of us. As the sun starts its descent, Mom and I decide to find a good place to sleep for the night.

“Mom, how will long will the journey north take?” I ask with a dry throat. She must notice, because she removes a jug from her pack and offers it to me.

“Days. Weeks. We can make it though. We are strong-bred women, you and me,” she pushes.

I smile half-heartedly but feel much more assured. Mom is always right, so I know she must be right about all this too. We find a secluded area on a small slope where we can see down onto the interstate. Strangers and families have clumped together, but that sort of trust will have to be used sparingly now. I laugh to myself at those still carrying money around as if it’s worth something and at those who have probably never used a flashlight other than their iPad. Mom rests her head on her backpack, and I follow suit. Penny finds a spot next to my hip, and I feel her relax finally. She’s had the shakes since I found her hidden in my room, but I too am more at ease now and let out a quiet sigh.

Mom stares up in awe. “Have you ever,” she stops, “they are brighter than I’ve seen in all my years.”

I guess without the bright city lights and distractions, the stars can be seen in their full magnificence. I am suddenly very thankful to still be alive. As I adjust my backpack to settle in, I realize I’m also settling into a new way of life and a new world. I close my eyes but still see the stars shining.


The author's comments:
Maybe if all the technology and all the noise could just go away for a little while, we could clear our heads. Sometimes I feel bogged down. I think I conveyed my feelings through this disaster (a little extremely lol)

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