Black Rainbow

The ghost of his hand and the subtle wisper of the wind were the last things I remember...

    After World War 3, better known as the atomic war, where the bright blue color of the sky fades and is replaced with a giant grayish cloud that clothes the infinite horizon. Where density and toxic are the acknowledged characteristics of the water, and crystalline isn't a feature of it no more. Where nature and human exchanged roles and people had to resist the anger of Earth and its atmosphere. The fury and parsimony of humanity exploded to the point that damaged most part of what resided in the planet since millions of years. Deserted plains and dry forests covered majority of the land mimicking an endless dry shore.

    Those that survived the war adopted the dusty ruins that were left behind and agonizing was an habit that would refuse to leave caused by the situations faced against the suppression of nature's resentment. Insane climate changes, that were descendants of the chemicals and violent events, tormented the land with no mercy. Frightened by these threats, people hid as if they were a fragile piece of paper to which the drop of the raindrops disintegrated its mass.

   Life expectations were minimum and people were killed by diseases, the children of radiation. Many animal species were vanished by the warfare but contrary to humans, they evolved like they always do and developed new surviving mechanisms such as mutations.

    "Imagine what the sky would've looked like hundreds of years ago, before the war. Before the soil turned dry and the sunrays too dangerous to enjoy, and the water wasn't too toxic so we could swim with the creatures that lived in it. When humans were able to live with nature and we were not enemies. The time that we could enjoy the fresh breeze and rejoice to the sound of the birds instead of all the pains and complains we have to hear and witness today." In that messed up world he was the only family I had. My genetic one was a mystery lost in time. We took care of each other like siblings, messed around like friends and lived as if we were the only ones left. This life seem to be death itself, but through him I could see hope. That there was still joy and things to discover before departing to wherever our destiny was. Sometimes I doubted if he was human since all I know is that our specie lacked of humility and compassion. I knew he had his demons but he always kept them in quarantine away from my knowledge. My insomnia was often fed by suppositions of the things he has seen, felt and learned. The moments where the shadows of the past almost narrate the story he was subject of, were lightened before he could tell me a word.

  That day he did it again. Was it that bad? I thought he trusted me. Maybe it was something I unconciously did which caused this feeling of distrust. I've been searching for an explanation but his answers were always silence. Only gestures of ignorance were all I could get from him.

    The same rancor that consumed my ancestors, the one I was bitter about and the one responsible of making the rest of history to painfully suffocate in the empty egg shell they left, that same antipathy fulfilled me in that moment. I ran away ignoring the things that surrounded me, the ones which he was conscious about. In an attempt to restrain and to shelter me from all danger, he followed my footsteps at a faster phase. Surrounding my torso with his arms and pushing me against the ground, he protected me like a turtle's shell would. That same water that he dreamed so much about, the one he had no enmity to, was his murderer. The touch of the raindrops were like acid that slowly burned his skin and his body was trembling in agony. In his bright eyes I could see his fears and the flaming pain he was being slave of. I tried to push him away in a strove of saving him. All I could do was witness his soul and body wrestle while he defended me from the poisonus water.

   He died in the most horrific scenario. It was still raining when his mutilated body, stabbed by the raindrops, lost strength and fell by my side. His corpse was laying  by my side and his eyes, those eyes that could penetrate into my soul and heal any type of ill, were lifeless.

   The anger of regret and the absence of his words frightened me. The exhilaration and tease of guilt unsighted me obligating me to stay by his side. The ghost of his hand and the subtle whisper of the wind were the last things I remember, and a black rainbow made me wonder if I would ever see the light again.