Once Upon a Lifetime || Dreamnotfound

1

World War Three, the War was supposed to be the last, and in a way, it was.

No one expected a virus to corrupt the world, countries blaming each other for the spiraling of humanity.

When the first bomb hit, the end of the world began.

~

Now, let's not get ahead of ourselves, that was five years ago. The world almost ended, it faced something that humanity could not survive.

Of course, the world wasn't as strong as the leaders of nations thought it to be, but it wasn't weak. So, it survived the War, to many people's surprise. It lived on, but over half the population was wiped out, destroyed in the aftermath of the virus and the radiation that resulted from the use of atomic bombs.

Those who survived were lucky, able to avoid death that was a one in four chance. That's right, one fourth of the population survived, leaving two billion left on earth. Those who survived were considered immune to the virus, lucky.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, George survived. Let him tell his story, would you?

~

George grew up in England, he had a happy life with his family and friends. He went to a good university, moved to America, had a promising future. Don't miss the had, past tense.

Too bad the world had to go through hell.

After the world went to shit, those who remained were left with no leaders, no instruction. The governments of the world were completely destroyed by a powerful anarchists group, who left nothing behind. People began to loot cities, stealing what they could to survive.

George was forced to be one of those people. He has to steal to survive. No one runs the stores anyways, he's lucky if he finds a fully stocked store.

In the five years after the world's end, companies still hadn't rebuilt, manufacturers hadn't produced, the world went still. There were, and still are, not enough workers to work, no currency to pay them. Money doesn't exist anymore, now people either trade to get what they want or they take it.

There is third option, of course: murder.

George can't say he hasn't killed. He's tried to avoid it as much as he can, but some people have gone insane, resorting to attacking George for whatever he carries with him. In those situations he only has one option.

Most days George spends his time wandering the vast expanse of empty land. Barren cities, most reduced to ash and cinder. The biggest cities, like New York, Chicago, Dallas, Los Angeles, and others no longer exist. They couldn't survive the bombs.

George is lucky enough to have been in a smaller city somewhere in northern Georgia when the bombs first hit. Now, he wanders somewhere further south.

George prefers to travel at night, when only the stars light up the world, but it's safer to travel during the day. The most dangerous people are awake during the night.

Believe it or not―George finds this funny in a dark kind of way―the gun stores were the first to be looted after the War. This is America after all, and as luck would have it, most people were too scared not to have a gun. It's safer to have some method of protection.

George has two, and multiple magazines with bullets. For protection; he never uses them unless it's absolutely necessary.

With the guns, in his backpack he has packages of food, a blanket, water bottles, a swiss army knife, and a couple other necessities. He doesn't carry clothes with him; most stores have an abundance, so George just takes some when he needs a new pair.

R-Zones, the reality of today's world, are vast expanses of empty land where bombs hit, and the air is brimming with radiation. Spend more than a few hours in one of those zones and you won't last the week.

It's awful, the actuality of the world as George knows it, but it's all he's known for the past five years, so he's used to it. He carries with him a miniature radiation detector that is strapped to the side of George's backpack. It lets him know if he's within five miles of an R-Zone, and for larger zones, it's ten miles.

George has been mostly alone for these past five years, preferring to travel that way. It does get lonely, sure, but George doesn't trust those he's encountered enough to make friends.

A few years ago, he'd been traveling with a close friend of his, but that didn't last long. Friendships never do nowadays, as much as George wishes they did.

Most days are boring, but some are worth living. Those are when George finds the rare stash of cold food, stored in some freezer that somehow has power.

Sometimes there are electrical surges throughout power plants, they usually last less than a day and then the electricity is gone forever. They're extremely rare, but if George is in the right place at the right time, he'll get lucky.

As one would expect, most food is either expired or rotting. George doesn't remember the last time he's had anything with dairy, or even fruit. Those rarities were almost nonexistent.

George tends to stick with packaged foods and cans, those are the safer bet, even if they are expired.

Occasionally, there are airplanes that fly through the sky. George sees them maybe once a month. Maybe they're what's left of the government, maybe they're part of the anarchist group that took over, or maybe they're hope that somewhere there is a place where the world isn't so terrible.

All George knows is that he has this urge to hide whenever a plane flies over. He doesn't know why he does it, but there's something about the insignia on the plane that George doesn't trust.

He doesn't trust anyone, well scratch that, there's someone he trusts― rather an animal. George calls him Tramp, much because the dog reminds him of that one movie that he used to love when he was a kid.

The mutt shows up once and a while, having made friends with George a couple months ago. Tramp is smart, like George, and provides company when he sees fit. Only an intelligent dog would've been able to survive the War, so George doesn't mind feeding him, or offering water on particularly hot days.

He's the only living creature George has interacted with in months. George has almost forgotten how to interact with people, so he stays away from populated areas, only stopping by when he needs something from a store.

Currently, George sits on the top of a gas stop, which is placed somewhere random on a desolate highway. The rays of the sun are hot, and there aren't many days when they're not. George watches the sunset quietly, legs hanging off the roof of the gas station.

It's quiet, like every single day before this one. George used to find it peaceful, now it's just desolate, empty. Only a reminder of what happened. Of what used to be.

Sometimes George hates it, other times he loves it, but on days like today, he can't bring himself to feel either. Today, the silence has been so loud, his ears ring. The arid wind sifts through his hair, the dry air doing little to cool him down.

It's unpleasant, living everyday like this.

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a/n - next chapter is already up <3