The Tragedy of the Commons

"However small your actions may seem..." My grandmother pauses and looks at me with her wise old teary gray eyes, "They have big consequences. Think about it this way. If one person," putting emphasis on the one," throws away the fork on the floor for example. It may not seem like a lot... But. If 8 billion people did the same. That'd be 8 billion forks to pick up. Take account of your actions my love, and the world will change." My grandmother said this at the height of The Great Environmental Catastrophe, 2072. Seeing the pure destruction of people not taking account for their actions was quite grave. Seeing every little, ripple. Mind-boggling. But, I still somehow held my high, in hopes people would change and begin to think. But I was wrong. 

And, The Great Environmental Catastrophe carried on. The series of events that included the rapid production of non-perishable materials like plastic, glass, and etc., thrown in dumps near water sources after one use. 'Lands' started expanding attempting to find more space for garbage. During these events the world's marine life started rapidly declining, 2% of marine species started going extinct each year after that. Species of marine life that we'd never seen before started washing up on our shores.

 I now sat on a chunk of 'land' in the year 2130. The chunk of 'land' was made out of bottle caps, glass, and whatever non-perishable material that contributed to the fall of our oceans. The state of the earth was now covered by 55% land and 45% water. Beaches were practically nonexistent seeing as they were now landfills rather than places of enjoyment. I start hearing a "beep, beep, beep" coming from Wilson's pocket.

"She's gone," Wilson said looking down falling onto withered glass ground. I, on the other hand, was left speechless. Recognizing despite, the efforts of our previous generations. The Short-beaked (once common) dolphin was extinct. For good. I look down onto the now murky green ocean's surface for a sign of hope. I was only capable of spotting helpless seahorse struggling with a Q-tip larger than itself.  I take a quick picture dipping my chemical and waterproof camera and show the picture to Wilson.

"Just in case, you know... To show our future grandchildren what seahorses looked like." I frown to the camera as tears begin to drip down. I felt powerless in a situation for the first time despite my endless efforts.

All because of the 8 billion people who'd equally thought it was, "It's just one plastic!" before us.