Nothing Left to Burn [YoungWritersShortStory Contest Entry]

I.

"It's coming." A voice startled her awake. Quickly sitting up, her eyes adjusted to the dark all around her. Her fists clenched, and unclenched the blankets which had fallen down to her waist now.

        Taking deep breaths to fight away the fear creeping in from the sidelines of her brain, Erin shook her head. It had not yet reached light out yet. Having only gotten three hours of sleep in since she first fell into bed wasn't helping.

        The voices and echoes kept on appearing. They never saved her from anything. Just created more suspense and alerting her of something. No one had came for her. No one targeted her family. Her sister lay in her own bed peacefully.

        No one knew about it. But from the pits of her stomach, when she went to school, when she went to sit down, when she looked in anyone's eyes -even people she knew- terror grabbed at her. Her vision was centered and there were black seeping in from the corners.

        Erin had never fainted before and she was determined that nothing was going to change that. No kind of pain could cause it. She would protect herself with a shell from the outside dangers.

        A war had been raging on for years now. Right past the expanse of forest, or wild tangles of trees was ammunition and people dying. Her town had never heard the shooting or fighting itself but news travelled through the country well enough to know that they would never be at a treaty. Alliances were constantly forming. New soldiers were always being drafted.

        Televisions set were always broadcasting the King- Augustine Maximus Corson. With his booming voice was the sound of every living room, the people were constantly reminded that rebellions were not welcome in their already warring country. No one counted on doing so. There was so much money put into the war effort that every person had a meager supply of all necessities. Nothing was ever going to be put in to indulge themselves.

        One year, before she was born, they had been so desperate as to drafting females and veterans too. From the ages of seventeen to the late-70s, everyone was taken. Her mother had once told tales of how some cities and towns had become barren. Some called it a ghost town. After years of continual war, rumors of genetically enhanced bioweapons made its way to people's mouths, spreading faster than wildfire.

        She had, one time, walked across a broken sign with paint chipped away, barely coherent,  when she was younger. It had told her what wildfires were. A picture of a bear -obviously, not one that was found in the wild, because there were fake features to mimic those of humans, in what was supposed to be in an endearing way. It was what people used to call a Park Ranger uniform had told citizens not to be the start of these what used to be natural flames licking away at trees and grass.