Alone from the Fallen

The Camera

((A/N: This will only be two parts. It's a short story.))

I~ don't wanna be alo~ne! I~ don't wanna die alo~ne!

I yank the music from my ears in disgust. Why the hell did I ever listen to crap like this? Now that I have no choice but to be alone, it sounds like the band personally made it to be a royal testicular falcon punch just for me. Ah, right. I turn to the "Hello Kitty pink" video camera that I have set up on the table. It's been untouched for...a long time. Somehow, it was just too painful to look at, no matter how numb I've been feeling.

Clearing my throat, I begin. "My name is Scott Harrington. I'm 26, I've been the last man on Earth for 2 years, bla bla bla and all that good junk. Before I make my decision that will completely change the course of the world's future, let's recap.  'The End of the World' didn't happen like most science fiction novels described it. There were no zombies, no aliens, no nuclear war. No cool-ass robot uprising. No, nothing like that. It happened because the world's leaders were too arrogant and stupid to listen to me when disaster struck.

A plague. Yep, good ol' Plague Inc came to life. Some unknown virus hit the world pretty hard. By some unknown skill, it hit the superpowers first. America, England, Japan, China, and Russia. It killed within two days..."

Clang!

My head whips in the direction of the sound. I don't know why, there's no one here, and the habit should've long been broken after 2 years. Same as always, it was just the wind. I sigh and continue:

"As soon as the first week passed and already 5 million in the U.S were dead, I had begun my research. Being a biochemist with an IQ of 178, I knew that I could easily pick out the plague's familiar symptoms. If I could trace the genetic patterns of the virus, I could kill those symptoms and get down to to its root. However, I was known for having...mental illnesses. Paranoia, hallucinations, anger issues...they had a hard time listening to me try to save their pathetic lives, but I couldn't get those ignoramuses to stop diagnosing me with illnesses if I'd killed them myself! Even now, all I can think of-"

I stop speaking. There was another noise. I'm absolutely sure I heard something. Something similar to...footsteps. Curse it, as soon as I start talking about my previous diagnoses, I start hearing things. Focus, Puff.

Why'd I have to go and think that up? "Rebecca was among them." I choke on the words, trying to get them out. Two years is never long enough to get over the loss of someone you love. "A goofy, 14 year old who's only enemy was her 'unbearably' curly hair." Clearing my throat feels like it's hurting my speech more than helping it....And when did my fists tighten? "I could've saved her, the same way I saved myself. Within 3 weeks, I'd created an antidote, as well as a vaccine to prevent people from getting the sickness in the first place. Nearly half the world's population had fallen, and there was pandemonium every waking second.

Still, society turned me down. I had tested the vaccine on myself, and I suppose it worked. 2 years, I haven't been infected. But before I could test the antidote on anyone, before I could even replicate it, they smashed my sample. They said I was too unstable to trust with a decision as important as this; they thought I was delusional! 'How can a lunatic figure out the code to salvation that our greatest minds couldn't even solve??' All that research had been wasted and NO ONE would be saved!" I stop to breathe. I hadn't even realised I was raising my voice. "I'm sorry. I have to stop yelling. Getting angry at the camera won't help anything. Besides, I've been taking my anger out fo..."

Stop this is irrelevant. Just tell them what you're here for, Scott. I take another deep breath, and continue.

"That girl was more important to me than anyone--and they kept her from me. The hospitals, her parents, my old college professors at the lab. Everyone was against us. They thought I was some kind of creep for loving such a young and pretty girl so much, just because of some STUPID DIAGNOSE-" Breathe. "Rebecca was my sister. My little sister.

It's amazing how easy it is for society to turn your own parents against you. Every time Rebecca or I tried to explain that we were siblings, boom--out pop Titus Andronicus and Mommy Dearest to, once again, claim that I am not their son, or I've been stalking their child, or whatever lie they'd made up on the spot. Dad wanted me to be like him: an agricultural slave. Otherwise known as a cash-crop farmer. Sure, there's plenty of science involved, but that wasn't what I wanted. Combine that with the fact that I'm 'insane' and the constant pressure from others convincing them that I'm some sick predator...you can see where I'm headed.

They're not the only ones to blame. Not one of those air-headed cops thought to do a DNA test, or maybe they just didn't care." Sigh, I did it again. Focus, Puff.

"My point is this: humanity is dodgy, unpredictable, and cruel. Now that humanity's dead, it's just me. I've had a lot of time to think about this, obviously, and I've reached the conclusion that humans never deserved to even live. So many creatures could have remained doing their thing without human interference. And there was that whole thing with global warming! I might sound like I'm crazy right now, but hear me out. The only way anyone besides myself will be able to see this video, is because of me, and whatever decision I make in the next hour."

I pick up the camera and carry it across the room--which happens to be my old lab. Pushing back a tarp, I reveal a girl, floating lifelessly in a vat of green bubbling goo. That goo being.a.special preservation liquid I, myself, created. A 14 year old girl with springy locks the colour of the ripest tomato ever.

"Meet my sister, Rebecca Harrington."