As The World Burnt

I looked out over the vast ocean of reds and oranges, with the occasional yellow found in between. The world was burning, and I had started it. A satisfied smirk tugged at my lips as I turned to the boy beside me, the firelight reflecting in his eyes and the contentment glinting. The smile he wore wasn't cruel, but the fate we'd delivered to the world was. In fact, he looked rather peaceful, as though things were finally evening out. Well, the worst disease was always the human race.

His eyes roamed the sea of colour and settled momentarily on a school. The one place that has always been successful in crushing all sparks of creativity and individuality, no matter where in the world it was found. They refused to give us freedom to express ourselves, so we took it away from them. Well, the worst disease was always the human race.

I let my eyes search freely once more and saw a sight I never thought I'd be privileged enough to see. Houses burnt and people cried as though they'd never done this to animals without a second thought. Their pleas for mercy fell on deaf ears and I turned away in reminiscence of how they turned their backs on the animals of the rainforests, the innocent ones, the exact ones that help keep our ecosystems alive, and in turn keep us alive. Well, the worst disease was always the human race.

He held out his hand and offered me a drink to quench my thirst while they couldn't. He brought the drinks to this show. In turn, I offered him a marshmallow, I was looking forward to roasting a marshmallow over the burning corpse of society. I brought the snacks. "I don't like marshmallows." I raised an eyebrow at him, shocked at what he said, and at how a single phrase uttered quietly got more of a reaction out of me than watching as the world burnt. He smiled ruefully. I just shrugged. More for me to use to taunt capitalism then. Well, the worst disease was always the human race.

I had to laugh, it was absurd. Around me my world burnt and my main concern was marshmallows? It was so mundane in comparison. He eyed me, a small grin forming, "what?" he asked. I shook my head and gestured to the fire. "This I suppose," I replied, "the world is burning and we're treating it like a campfire." Well, the worst disease was always the human race.

Inwardly I smiled; it was so long ago that we made this agreement of watching the fall of an era together. I wasn't even sure if he'd show up. We'd kept ourselves alive for a surprisingly long amount of time. I expected humanity to kill itself much sooner than it did. But all things must come to an end, and I held the pleasure of being one of the few people who knew that we would be our own demise. Well, the worst disease was always the human race.

I looked out beyond our world, my eyes reaching for the sun. It's fiery rays almost lost in the blaze of the place I used to call my home. The sun set, and with it the action. What was once a roaring fire cooled to blacked sanity and embers. The raw heat was lost and a cool breeze now dared to surface so I tugged a blanket round my shoulders. He brought the blankets. We gazed over the horizon at the sun setting on charred, broken wastelands, knowing how the end began. I brought the fire starters. Well, the worst disease was always the human race.

With the sun leaving us, the moon joined us in all its glory, bringing with it tiny pinpricks of magic. It brought the stars. Like a phoenix we would be reborn from the ashes. Perhaps the worst disease was the human race, but perhaps it was also its own cure.