What happened... to the world..?

Chapter 1: The ruins of the world

The desert almost seemed desolate with no people in sight

Night had fallen

Everything was dark and eerie, yet it held a sort of peacefulness to it, the only sounds echoing through the endless expanse of golden dunes being the sounds of insects and the distant chatter of people scattered about.

(P.S dunes = mountains of sand)

The only things you'd see through the darkness being the fires lit from the few camps that call the desert home, providing them light and warmth.

A lone man walked along the dunes, with a camel in tow and a torch in hand.

(Tow as in he's pulling the camel with him)

As he walked on, he could feel that horrid smell hit his nose. The smell of rotting flesh.

He noticed a faint light flickering from the corner of his eye.

He stopped in his tracks and stretched his arm out to shine his torch onto where the faint light came from, drawing his dagger from his sheathe in case a fight were to happen.

And there he saw an old and filthy woman, resting in a rickety little stall.

(Rickety = about to collapse or poor quality)

She looked like she was old enough to be on the top of Death's list.

She had a large worn out piece of tarpaulin, one with the faces of some unknown political candidates, hung presumably as a substitute for a roof. It honestly looked as though it would've fallen on her at any second with how poorly it was tied down to the support posts.

That was the only thing that seemed to be covering her presumably "house". It was no better than a tent.

In fact, even the supporting posts looked like they were going to give out with the lightest gust of wind.

The old woman sat unmoving on a rock, seemingly in a daze

Her face held a blank look.

Seeing this, the man sighed seeing that the old woman held no harm.

He sheathed his dagger and walked on. However, as he passed her, he could hear the faint sound of her hoarse and crackly voice, muttering something under her breath

He looked over his shoulder as he stopped once again in his tracks, lifting his hood just a tad to catch a glimpse of the sight before him.

The old woman's face showed fear,

But then, that fear turned into sadness,

And that sadness turned into loneliness,

Turned into guilt,

Into pain,

and finally anger.

Those who'd have witnessed such a scene would've been amazed and surprised at the variety of emotions this old woman had expressed in one single moment.

"I saw the ruins..."

She said as she slowly peered out from behind the worn out tarpaulin, glancing up at the dark inky sky that was void of the shining moon and stars that once graced us with their light and beauty.

She continued,

"I see the ruins of which mankind had created with their cruelty, poisoning our home, our mother... The world was slowly burning, we knew it'd eventually end up in ruins or even worse than hell itself..."

The old woman smiled bitterly at the man,

"We thought it'd be far ahead of us, that such a thing would never come to fruition"

(That we wouldn't even be alive once it happens.)

She turned her empty gaze to the desert with a long tired sigh,

"But one day, in the blink of an eye, without warning, the world had fallen to chaos, bursted into flames..."

Her voice echoed through the endless sea of darkness and sand, filled with such rage and emotion,

" I am a witness. I am a witness to it all!"

Her gaze fell to the ground, a pained look on her face,

"I was there... I was there when everything started to crumble. When everything started to burn down to ashes"

The man was well versed in the stories on that very faithful day...

After all, he was there to witness it himself.