I used to be one of those kids that sat in the last row in all of my classes and carved my name into the desk. I would run away from home for days at a time. I would flirt with all the girls. Now there was no home for me to run away from, and worse, no girls to flirt with.
People think that Henry is a name for those good boys who go off to Harvard and become doctors. I, Henry Stern, should be some sort of genius or something like that. To the dismay of my parents, I am not a "Henry". I'm a bad boy and I'm proud. However, my rebellious antics only seem foolish now as I lie in the rubble, only getting up to find food or water.
The one thing that had saved me when life was still normal was my guitar. I would write songs and it filled the empty hole I had in my heart that was put there from the years of being bullied back in middle school. Before the accident, I was one of the most popular guys in my high school and had a line of girls waiting to go out with me.
For the past couple of weeks, my life has consisted only of rubble, loneliness, and a lack of girls. It's been tough, yet it's only a fragment of my misfortune.
The memory of the incident haunts me weeks later. I just remember waking up, all alone. I was in the rubble of a building that was once my favorite pizza place. I had skipped school that day, but nevertheless, I found myself heading toward the school, jumping over cracks in the sidewalk. it was empty.
After finding the empty remains of the school, I found a building that wasn't nearly as destroyed as many of the others where I could sleep. I would kick down doors of houses to find food and water, although on many occasions I was greeted with a few rats and a leaky faucet. I mostly just stayed in the rubble that was my new home. I would have to leave soon, and find a new home.
This place was now just a pile of rubble and memories of what it once was. Which, quite frankly, weren't really that good, but I'd give anything to have things back to the way they used to be.
I just can't have that anymore. I've accepted it, dealt with it, and moved on. Things will never go back to the way they were.
I'm just hoping that I don't go crazy from being alone before someone can find me. Surely I'm not the only one left.
Or am I?
To protect what little faith I have left, I'll go with the first one. Besides, there's no way the entire population could have just disappeared without a trace. At least I hope not.
I think the only logical explanation for that would be aliens. Or the zombie apocalypse. But probably aliens.
