Have you ever dreamt of the end of days?
I have.
It started with me looking out of the window and seeing the usual scenery punctured by two huge giant war ships floating in the sky. One was shaped like a giant balloon covered with a lot of sails to allow the wind to power its movement. The other one resembled a metal and leather combination encrusted hot air balloon and they were designed for a head on coalition.
With my bare eyes, I saw the two war ships go into a coalition course and exploded with such vigor and impact that the dark sky's clouds were suddenly illuminated and repelled away from the coalition.
The light from the crash was bright and the flames burnt a brilliant blue ringed by orange burning gases. The aftermath was part of the scenery being torn apart due to the explosion. Following that, tiny specks of smaller aircrafts started bursting forward into the skies and they were armed with deadly weapons that caused mass destruction. One by one, buildings were demolished within milli-seconds and part by part the concrete landscape has been re-modified into just rubbles and spare metal frames.
I gasped and rushed to report to my parents about the destruction outside. My mother just thought about it and pondered about the possibilities that nothing has happened to her peaceful and isolated world. My dad scorned at my imaginative thoughts and laughed it off. I was appalled as it would have seemed obvious that the bombs and gun fires happening outside sounded louder than what was playing on the television set.
I tried to drag my mother to the window to show her the carnage outside but she wouldn't budge. My dad just laughed and changed the channel to once again prove that I was wrong and he was right. Out of desperation, I tore the curtains nearest to me down to reveal the muffled screams that were piercing through the evening sky that night.
My mother just stared wide eyed into the horizon while my father still ignored the fact that I was right about the chaos outside. I urged my parents to pack the necessities and dress well to prepare themselves for this inevitable horror of a future. They moved leisurely causing me to panic for their sake. I yelled out:
"Wear something thick to fight the cold at night, bring all your valuables just in case to trade for ration. Bring what's left of the boiled water in large bottles and bread to fill your stomachs. Wear something dark so that you at least have to cover of the night to protect ourselves!"
Still these useful warnings fell on deaf ears while I hurried to my room to pick out articles to wear. Upon opening up my closet, I realized that I was scarcely clothed with only an oversized basketball jersey and shorts. I climbed the ladder that has suddenly appeared in front of my closet to reach the tallest storage shelf. I turned back just enough to look at the war happening in the air that seems to inch closer with every blink of an eye.
As I dawned on black undergarments and fitted on my thickest jeans, my parents strolled into my room still unaware of the danger that the entire city is in. I put on a long sleeve black shirt and then scrounged around for a used army uniform top that would hopefully provide the warmth as a jacket and also perfect camouflage. The first thought that came across my mind was:
"Was it a good choice to choose an army uniform, the enemy would think that I am one of the soldiers and would have fired instantly to end my life."
But time was running out and my brain was in a whirlpool of thoughts to process my thoughts logically and calmly.
My mother just suddenly blurted out as to why not wear a black jacket and also something that my boyfriend had given me. I didn't give much thought to the fact that my father was still clueless about me having a boyfriend. He reached upwards, his face red with anger and grabbed hard at my left breast digging his dirty fingernails into my black bra. He mumbled:
"Since when did you have a boyfriend?!"
I brushed his hand away and ignored his comment. Thinking to myself that the world might be coming to an end and my dad still could only care about caging me up as if I was just a display article on his permanent shelf.
He refused to budge and said that I was just being a wise guy and seeking attention by making up stories of the outside world deteriorating into rubbles. I rolled my eyes while he dragged my mother back into the room. Just before he closed the door shut, I could hear the news channel reporting about the carnage outside. I switched my view towards the horizon and it seemed the air ships were just a few blocks away. I glanced downwards and I saw police men dressed in dark blue holding bright red signs to ask people to run for safety.
I could not be bothered to try to persuade my parents. I pushed open the door and dragged my parents downstairs. Somehow the bottom of our apartment didn't seem familiar anymore. I saw my boyfriend in a far away distance, strolling towards me. He waved but I could not make out if it was a wave for me to get away or a wave to say hi.
I could hear my parent's upset mumbling behind my back and I still believed that they never listen to me and just suspecting that I made it up. But it was all happening, the destruction that was bound to envelope the entire world. Before I could run towards my boyfriend, a bright flash of light blinded me. I utterly felt alone and somehow responsible for the deaths of beloved ones around me. I know the world is coming to an end and there was nothing within my power that I could stop it.
A familiar tone arisen me from my sleep. It was only a dream and my phone's ring tone had pierced my dream and brought me back to reality.
I awoke starry eyed and still spaced out from the realism and details of the dream. Was it really a dream or something of a premonition that was bound to happen? My heart was beating faster than normal as I continued to lie there and breathe to make sure that I was in the safety of my bed under my blanket. I feared the future, the dream was too real, I hope I do not have another dream of such; nothing is more terrifying than knowing that our days are numbered. It was the end of days.
