The sun broke through the clouds, lighting up the dozens of emaciated bodies outside of my humble home, the bodies of those who could not live without the copper wires and electrical conduits that defined their lowly lives. The blessings of their past did not carry over to their present, however. They bodies that lay there were dead due to their dependence on technology. In a moment of anger, I lashed out. Our lives are not meant to be lived in mediocrity! Our lives are our own, not meant to be tied to others, our rulers, our followers. Our lives are not meant to be defined by superficial wants but instead what we want to spend our life doing.
Apparently those who lay dead at my feet hadn’t seemed to realize that.
I remembered back one year and eleven months, the first midnight of the new year, the night that humanity had lost its technology. On the first day hundreds of people lost their lives from terror and rioting alone. As the weeks, and then the months, went by, the numbers did not reduce. Quite the contrary, in fact. They went up exponentially.
I went back to my sanctuary, my very own zoo, filled with animals from all over the world. The only reminder I had from a past life. No matter. This new one is already so much more fulfilling.
Brittany, my pet capuchin, jumped onto my shoulder. I smiled at her. “Hello, my dear.”
She squeaked back. From my years of researching, I knew that I could understand her. “Hello, my one and only love. Hello, my Lord.”
I rubbed her fur and lightly stepped over the graves of my former colleagues, Dr. Demel, the astronomer, and Dr. Lovejoy, the botanist. Together we were a force to be reckoned with. We could have conquered the world if we chose to! brilliant new rulers for a brilliant new golden age. Too bad everybody had died first.
I reached my desk and pulled out my log and a pen. No need for computers! I prided myself on the fact that I could exist solely on my own ingenuity and brilliance. I would have made a fair and just ruler. I commenced observing my friends, the animals. The writing was like a drug to me, a calm ecstasy, a soaring relaxation, a routine that suited me to the extreme.
I heard a crash outside, and I arose from my trance in a rage. Who would dare disturb me! Me! The savior of mankind! A new messiah for a new age!
A man came in shaking, his skinny arms holding a crudely shaped tree stump. This made me even more furious. This man would dared to kill a tree!
“Please, sir,” the man, well, more like a boy said. “Please give me some food.” His voice shook like the weakling that he was. People like he would be terminated in my new reign.
“No,” I said, plain and simple, and returned to my work.
“Then, sir, I am truly sorry, but you leave me no choice.” The boy raised his beastly club, but I quickly grabbed a knife and stabbed him in the ribs.
“Why…?” he mumbled before he fell.
I kneeled and inspected him. He was suffering from malnutrition and thin bones. His body temperature, declining fast, was still unbearably hot. I added a fever to the list of symptoms.
I got back up and looked at what once had been a human being. Had I truly killed him? This nameless boy was dead before he could truly live. To what end does our anonymity serve us? At what point does a man become a stranger, and thus an enemy?
I turned around. No matter. I had probably spared him a lot of pain and suffering. An alleviation, of sorts, i suppose.
I took the body outside to dispose of it. The rotting meat and juices of a human were good for the plants which supplied my food. The sun was setting fast over the horizon, a chill was in the air.
My stomach grumbled, and with horror I realized that I had not eaten for a long, long while. I ran to my garden, which was probably the only thing that kept me alive when everybody else was dead. I began to dig through the soil, desperation making me animal. There was no food! None! How could there be no…!”
I had thought that I was a god.
And then I died.
