English 1 Shots

A/N In English we looked at the book 'Zac for Zachariah' and we had to write a short peice based on being the only person left on the planet. If you like it, I may possibly write more ;) thank you!  

Just Me  

September 20th  

The leaves are drifting onto the ground now, not just sitting there one the bronze branches. It's like an invisible hand is playing with the amber shades and causing them to tumble down. But no. No one else is here. Just me.  

I am sat under the umbrella of orange and gold, letting the grass tickle my bare feet. Trees. It's easy to forget their name. When there's nothing, no one to remind you.   

My pen is running out of ink now, I should get up and search for one to write with. Sad, isn't it? The only reason, only purpose of me moving my tired limbs is to collect a pen so I can write down the words no one will ever here me say. But I am not going to move, scared that if I leave the fragile paper I am writing on, it will disappear like everyone, everything else.   

But that's stupid. Because someone would have to take it. And there is no one. Just me.   

A leaf lands in my hair and I take it out. The colour is brown. For a split second my heart rate increased with fear and I stare at the item in panick. It's dying. But then I relax when I realise that this place is lucky. Because even though this leaf is dying, a new one will take its place. But that is rare.  

I like being in my little place, Eden I sometimes call it. You can't see the still bodies that lay beyond with silent hearts enclosed behind their chests. You can't smell the smoke.  

I wonder why sometimes, why this place is different. But then I stop because it is a waste of my energy.   

Anomalie  

The word is in my head. I don't really know what it means, odd one out maybe? But it seems appropriate. So Eden is an anomalie in the world.   

But doesn't that make me an anomalie? 

  I am the odd one out.  

The wind is blowing now, like little voices whispering to me. But no. No one else is here. Just me. But I still listen to the whispers. People would probably say I'm crazy, and maybe I am, but wouldn't you go crazy? If you were the only one. The only one with a pulse.  

Maybe I should stop writing, the ink running out may be a sign. Or maybe someone will find it one day. But then I remember.  

No one else is here.  

Just me.