Short Stories

They Told Us About It

Our parents told us stories of what the cities were like when they were full of people. When we were young they were bedtime stories, talking about the people that would walk dogs, and even some walking cats or birds or really anything that wasn't supposed to be walked on a leash. They talked about the funny things they saw, someone dressed in a cow onesie, someone with a live fish in their backpack, someone even had a hedgehog in their pocket. They told us of the things that made them beam, like people being proposed to or others reuniting with someone special. They told us a couple stories of what made them hurt, seeing people being yelled at, or even swung at sometimes.

As we got older we were told of the more serious things. People being mugged, the assortment of crimes that would be committed regularly. They told us that some cities were safer than other, that small cities could be either quite safe or quite dangerous, you never knew right away.

They told us of buildings that could be so many stories tall that you lost count when you tried to count them all. Non-stop traffic day and night, and rush hour was the worst thing to be stuck in. They told us about all the people they saw rushing out to do something important, of people who would just walk leisurely, enjoying the hustle and bustle of city life.

They told us stories of the areas right outside the cities. The areas where there were acres and acres of fields, being planted with all kinds of fruits and vegetables, but mostly corn and wheat, sometimes apple trees dotted here and there. The areas that were covered with trees that you could walk around in, seeing birds and squirrels and many other types of animals if you were lucky. The places called beaches that could have such blue, clear, water and were filled with fish.

They told us about the sky. How on some days it could be blue and the sun would shine down and you could feel it's heat without scalding yourself. On some days water would fall the things they called clouds. If you were lucky when that was happening you'd hear a big boom from the sky and see it light up suddenly, thunder and lightning they called it. They talked of the clouds that could look like cotton, bright white and fluffy, and they told us how pretty it looked.

They told of us about places they had been to. Places called zoos that housed native and non-native animals, you could learn about the animals or just enjoy being outside and seeing animals you usually couldn't. Places they call amusement parks, places filled with people and bright colours, colourful food and crazy rides that could spin you at high speeds or could even turn you upside down and you could be safe doing it. After all, it wasn't usual that these things would break.

They told us about the people who took nature for granted. The people who knew that they could die naturally before the real consequences for their actions set in. The types of people who would throw trash on the ground, the side of the road, in the water, just because they didn't want to wait to get to somewhere with a garbage can. The people who would go out into the forest and kill the animals just for fun, because they wanted to get the biggest deer head or moose antlers. The people who would kill animals that were already going extinct because their hide cost a pretty penny. Poachers our parents called them. Our parents' words held so much disgust and absolute loathing for these types of people.

They told us all these stories and my sister and I would look out our windows at the landscape that greeted us. The grey of other buildings and concrete coating what used to be nature.

They told us stories of the people who warned us this would happen, those who fought back and spoke for nature. The ones that didn't show up to work or school in protest. The people who yelled in the streets, begging people in authority to just take them seriously,

"Please! You're killing our world! Why can't you see that?"

They told us how many people scoffed and told them it would be fine or didn't say anything at all and just passed by.

They said that this planet once had a fighting chance. But as I sit here writing this I know that while this planet used to have a fighting chance, we've fucked up to badly to go back. Water is running low and I've never had the fresh, organic food my parents would tell me about. They were the last generation that was allowed outside. Now, we have little machines that drop off our grocery's and water costs so much. I envy the people of younger generations, they got to see the beauty this world once offered. I feel bad for the ones who tried to stop this but failed. I am so, so, mad at the people who heard their cries and turned their backs. I feel myself growing old, I think I'm one of the only people still alive on my block, if I don't die soon I'll be one of the last people alive on this wretched planet. The news used to tell us about this, the dwindling number sof those alive, but they stopped talking when the number dropped below a thousand, they're all probably dead by now too. One day I'll be dead and my only hope is that with humans gone nature can finally retake what is hers.