Over Seas, Under Skies

Amy

God, I feel ridiculous. It's just like primary school all over again.

"Hello everyone, my name is Amy and I'm 7 years old and I have one sister and one brother and a dog and when I'm older I want to be a nurse!"

Now I'm Amy, 19 years old, and I'm training in medicine. I can almost hear the girl that I once was screeching with joy, it's that kind of childish squeal that brings you agitation and peace all at once. That's what keeps me going. That ambitious child. It's strange, now that I'm all I wanted to be, all I want to be is what I was; Amy, 7 years old, with one sister, one brother, and a dog. That child thinks we've made it, but as true as that may be, where have we made it? 

You always hear it said, but my teenage years really were a whirlwind. They were a disaster. With that swirling, taunting mass of a whirlwind that enshrouded my thoughts, sweeping them out of reach, God knows where I've taken myself. My vision seemed so clouded. I'm sure the sign post said Hull, but the path I'm taking just seems to lead me further and further down hill, it could just as easily have read "Hell".

War broke out, people broke down, and family broke down. I broke down.

From the day the bombs dropped there was no escape from the rubble. I don't just mean the rubble that lined the streets, like melancholy buntings that celebrated the fact that we even survived those first attacks, there's just as much rubble in my mind. No matter how much my mind caves in, there is hope, standing like pillars that hold my brain together. There's always hope. Even when dark times fall and humans become monsters, like werewolves under a midnight's full moon, the light will come again, a bright smile will shine again, replacing the glaring, threatening bared teeth of mankind at its worst.

Well thank God my mind is holding up! The world might have changed beyond recognition, but some things never change. Although security has increased tenfold in places that can afford it, and the amount of life has decreased tenfold in places that can't, people are still people. People are still human. If the old world has taught me anything it's that anything can be rebuilt, so many people are collapsing in on themselves with famine and dehydration, or they're exploding with rage, but I remember a time when I watched 'Homes Under the Hammer' every Saturday morning with my mother. At the time it seemed pointless, though just like any childhood memory it now seems like a blissful dream, those uncomfortable sofas seem like velvet clouds.

Thankfully it wasn't a childhood memory, I was young but in those times a young age just got you better treatment in the war effort. Just barely. That was pretty pointless when you think about it, nobody was ever really young, not mentally, not in a world like that. It's difficult to complain when it got you an extra chocolate bar a week. So I know that it wasn't a childhood memory. 'Homes Under the Hammer' taught me that even the most damaged things could become worth a million dollars, and I hope that in time the damaged things of this world can begin to feel a million dollars. It isn't some case of childhood optimism, we will be rescued!

We have to be rescued.

Right?