*unashamedly attempts to bump story count up with stories no one will review*
District Two is tired. A village exhaustively sits on the burned soil, porches sagging under the falling snow and roofs impaled by hail. A house lies destroyed, its door torn off in frantic escape, glass sprinkled in the light pooling beneath the windows, a chunk of its wall ripped out, clay bricks exposed to powerful Mother Nature. A tree's frail arms burdened with snow claw at the sky, begging whoever's up there to send lightning and end its suffering. An old quarries wait for the return of burly citizens to climb his rugged ledges tightly gripping hammers and dreams; they don't come.
Next to the faded sign reading shoes and socks, a mound of freshly-upturned dirt rests, snow lightly dusting its top. A shovel's haphazardly thrown next to the pile, metal burning with cold. Several stones stick out of the frozen ground, all plain but markings distinguish who lies beneath it, a burgundy scarf, ring of pebbles, a bird carved from wood; once a silver necklace lay there, but it was quickly stolen and contents looted.
Besides the frozen skeletons, the village is an empty shell, devoid of humans, dogs, and even crows – the herald of death. No one died; they all left.
In the distance, a proud city frowns, its once arrogant, modern buildings slouch against the steel-blue sky, chunks of stone and glass strewed around them like a broken halo. Once, a great mountain protected this city with sharp eyes, but all that's left it is dour gunpowder, hollow bones, and a pile of rubble. Blown up from the inside out; ended the war along with thousands of lives. Against the sorrowful backdrop, a mother clasps her son's hand as they traverse toward the make-shift shelter set by the new government just beyond the abandoned city. When the child stoops down to admire the light glinting off a sharp of glass, the mother tugs his hand. "We have to hurry to the shelter, Mason."
"Why?"
"Because it's safer." They continue walking in silence, save for the crunch of snow and skitter of stones.
"Mama, where are all the people?"
The mother shakes her head, "At the hospitals or shelters. Running towards this new world."
"Is this a better world?"
"I don't know. I really don't know."
They continuing wandering.