Life Transforms

Chapter 1: Bleak Buzzing

A man stands in a small concrete room, gently caring for a half-wilting garden to distract himself from the outside monotonous buzzing. Nearby him sits a boy, his hopeless eyes staring at the dull, grey walls. Every passing moment weighs down the boy's existence, every second a reminder of those who aren't there.

A memory replays in his head repeatedly; the first day he and the man lived in this bunker. The day the boy screamed out his brother's name while his father held him tightly from the now torrid world. Every time it replays, the boy thinks of how he should've made sure his older brother had come with him to shelter. As more time goes by, the boy goes further down this spiral, not slowing down even when his father walks up to him.

Holding out an unopened can, the father tries to speak over the droning, "John, you haven't eaten all day. Please, you must carry on." When he is greeted with only silence, his voice cracks a little. "J-.... James would want you to."

John shows a glimmer of recognition at the name. He manages to peel his gaze away from the walls and slowly grabs the can. After staring at the silver cylinder for a long while, he tries to choke down the contents inside.

Satisfied, the father returns to that pitiful garden, hanging up straw-like lights above it. After they were all swinging from the ceiling, he goes around turning on their bold blue lights. John pays no heed to this change as he sets the can down. Eyes wander back to the wall as his mind continues that eternal spiral.

With the garden all taken care of, for now, the father starts looking up towards the low ceiling. In this roof, there are several holes leading up to the surface; however, not a hint of sunlight has shone through for many days. Glancing into one of the holes, the father sees layers upon layers of wire filters going up into the ominous, noisy dark. Fresh air faintly reaches him, along with the sickly scent of feces. He cast inspective eyes into the endless dark, fearing the possibility of it invading their sanctuary. When his eyes had grown weary, he moved onto the next hole.

Once this task was finished, the father turns his attention back to his son. John, who had been fighting the oppressions of sleep, now lay in a fitful slumber. The father, as quietly as he can be, lays down next to him. Both dream of the same day, the day that never stops plaguing their minds. After a short, eternal nightmare, the father jolts awake to see John returning back to his wall.

Days blur together as they continued this routine. The father notices the foul stench from above less so than the day before as John continues to fast from both food and sleep. The fresh air passing entering from the holes becomes crisper as the room grows colder. Months passed by in the blink of an eye, until one day the infernal buzzes were silent and a glimmer of sunlight pierced through the darkness.