Swan Song

Chapter 1

In a world where war is inevitable, the sounds of bombs and guns overpower those of songs and the chirping of birds. It's gotten so bad that some people have never even heard a collection of notes. Instruments are obsolete, they're no longer in production, everyone who has had one either had to leave it behind when running away, are in hiding with no chance to play their songs because if they make a noise, they'll be heard and killed, or it's been destroyed.

New York City used to be a place filled with bright lights, fun, clubs, music, and expression, but now its a warzone we refer to as Helvede. There's no place safe to stay here. People have to go into hiding to protect families and loved ones. Anyone can be a spy for any army. Friends are no longer trusted, anyone can turn on each other at any time. Fights and violence break out at any given moment, both outside and in the bunkers.

I live in an underground bunker with a bunch of people I don't know. Everyone is always tense, afraid. The only time we get a sense of serenity is when ambulances drive by and we can hear the sirens up above us. The doctors are now the only things that don't show a sign of harm, but that doesn't mean that they're harmless. If I've learned anything while living in a war, it's you can't trust anybody, no matter what their title is. Because of this, people are still apprehensive about going out when they're here.

Once a week a group of soldiers, who we call Bringe Mad, come with a bunch of food. I have yet to know where they get it from. I've travelled a lot since the start of the war and I have not seen a farm with fresh vegetables, any animals, trees with fruit and not even a flower. Bringe Mad brings us apples, meat, vegetables, seasoning, spices, anything edible to last us the week. They also give us news about the war— where they latest battles have taken place, who won, deaths and the names of the people in case anyone knew them, what the stance of the war was.

The war started ten years ago when I was seven. No one really entirely knew or even knows why the war started or what it's really about. It just happened in a way. Schools were evacuated, a bunch of people died. It didn't matter who you were to most of the soldiers. If you were dead, it was good for them, if alive, they wanted you dead. It was unmerciful.

I remember when war broke out like it was yesterday. I lived with my parents and three pet rats, Artemis, Philby and Cupid, in a nice condo in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. Life was great, I read, played piano, played with my rats, was friends with the neighbors. I remember my only goal in life was to write a song. Anything. A symphony, a pop song, rock, alternative...and it still is, ten years later. Some things never change. I was feeding Cupid— he had to be deeded separately from Philby and Artemis— and I heard someone banging on the door. When my dad opened it, I could hear chaos in the building. Lisa, our neighbor, was at the door and was speaking to my dad, voice panicked. I couldn't hear clearly, next thing I knew my dad was ushering my mother and I out the door to get out of the building. Elevators were stopped, stairs were crowded, and we were on the seventh floor. My dad pushed me out in front of him so I could get out. I took a moment to take in everything. Wisconsin looked like it was a post-apocalyptic city in the matter of two minutes. I turned back and watched the building I grew up in go up into flames.

I'm seventeen years old now and I have spent the majority of my life running from anyone and everyone. I don't talk to many people. I'll approach a family and talk to some kids every once in a while but I haven't sought help from anyone. I work best alone and I don't want to feel I'm responsible for anyone if something unspeakable were to happen to them. But, of course, this story would be boring if I only told you what happens when I'm on my own, which is why I'm starting ten years into the stupid war than at the beginning.