Still a Human

Ion-Stavarache Sabin,Liceul Gheorghe Sincai,10A

"May the wind under you wings bear you where the sun sails and the moon walks."
"May the wind under you wings bear you where the sun sails and the moon walks."
"May the wind under you wings bear you where the sun sails and the moon walks."
"Stop!", you yell as loud as you can.Sometimes, these are the only words that travel through your
mind.You try to take a big sip of air and calm yourself down.A groaning sound is heard when the air
fills your lungs.They start to hurt now.You decide to stop your journey for a while.It is about time to
rest those weary legs.Your feet have blisters and rashes.You lie down,and decide to dream about
the past...
You remember how your first years were in the First Era.You were small and vulnerable,and there
were cars and skyscrapers.Oh, but the world was moving so fast then.Probably that's why you
remember so little of it.You feel your mother's tender hands gripping your tiny body to protect
you.Then it happened.The Great Cataclysm came.You were scared, and would cry all the
times.You don't remember much about the attic you and your family refuged.Maybe that one time,
when your mother kept that flour and cocoa powder from the surface, and decided to make you
your birthday cake.It looked crude, and badly cooked, but it was enough for your innocent soul.You
and your family ate the whole cake, except the wooden "4" that was the ornament.After a
while,your mother and father decided to go to the surface every day.You wanted to go too, and run
in the grass, happily.One day your mother never came back.You thought she decided to stay
outside forever,and find another child to take care of.Little did you know,that the surface was a
living hell, a big fire waiting to gasp the whole humanity.One day, your father returned to the
attic.He clutched between his fingers a special pill.You asked him about it.He told you that the pill
was special,and that it contained some nanobots designed for little children.He urged you to
swallow it, and you began to feel sleepy after that.You decided to take a nap on the carpet.
Everything was blank for a while.It was like a prolonged dream.After a while,though,you heard a
loud thump, and opened your tiny eyes.You felt nauseous,and confused.A white haired man,
dressed in ragged clothes and holding a spear was looking at you profoundly.Near you, there was
another man, with colored paint on his face, and smelling of certain unknown herbs.You soon
learned he was a Shaman tribesman called Mike.The attic you and your parents stayed in was a
wreck.Everything made of metal rusted out,and there was no more food left.The carpet you slept
on was mostly gone,only tiny bits of fabric survived.Your clothes were intact at first, but at the
smallest move they snapped to dust.The air was stale.There was dried blood on the walls,and a
pile of bones near.You don't know who they belonged to.Although time seemed to have passed,
your body felt the same.You were still young and somewhat energetic.The people that woke you
up took you to their home.It was called "Makura Tribal Union".This settlement was composed of a
central building, a huge wooden dome where the most important tribesmen lived.Next to the dome
there were wooden and stone built huts, and in the most outer layer, tents and cots, for the poorest
people.There you learnt you were living in the Second Era.
You soon got taught how to swim,fish and hunt, but also how to cure meat.Mike, the Shaman, was
your mentor.He also used to tell you bedtime stories,back when you were still little.Stories about
how the tribe union Leader, Gregor, united all the four great tribes into one.Stories about how once
the Great Winter came,the leader decided to burn all the manuscripts and books they had, and
how women would give up all their jewlery for a piece of cured meat.You tried once to ask him
about how much time has passed since the First Era, but Mike nodded in disbelief.He said,"Well,I
was born here, and lived here all my life.I tried to learn a lot about the past humans.During the
Great Winter, all the papers regarding the old humans were burnt.Soon after,we lost track of
time.Back when i was little, the last big concrete building fell under my eyes.Now,as you can see,
we live in a forest steppe,and rubble from the First Era is getting scarcer and scarcer.We must
gather every hierloom and rusty tool.Upon touch, they always tell their stories.The rust and dirt
show how the object endured the hands of time,and how it makes us different from animals."
You listened closely to what the shaman said.Many days you thought your dad tried to kill you, and
now you live in the afterlife, but it felt too real.Days and nights passed, and you grew bigger.One
day, you saw a certain Makuran girl.She had dark braided hair.She was supple,and most fun to talk
with.You realised you fell in love with her soon after.One day, you met her at the pond.She looked
more beautiful than ever.This time, her hair was free, and wild.You talked for what semed like
hours, suddenly you leaned in and...
You stop dreaming from the past after that.You stand up, only to see a figure in the distance.Upon
walking, you can see a man,with only a few yellow rags that cover him.His skin is full of painful
blisters and rashes,just like yours.Tears run down your eyes.You remember how dangerous the
Red Fever is.
It all started after a great storm circulated your tribal town.It rained for what seemed like weeks,and
people started to feel hopeless.All the crops soon perished, because of floods.One day, it
stopped.After that, the soil started to slowly turn red.At first nobody thought it was that bad.People
started resuming their lives,when the first tribesman fell ill.You remember he was a young lad, he
had no wife,and he was to become a carpenter.Mike tried to cure his illness for days.At first, he
had a couple blisters.Next thing you knew, his body was so weak and red that he couldn't stand
up.Then his hair started to fall.The last thing that happened to him was necrosis.His hands, fingers
and feet turned black .After his proper burial, a lot more people got sick.
The man in front of you begins to mumble something, but it is an unknown language to you.In an
instant, he collapses in front of you, and his bones shatter with an ominous sound.You examine his
body.You start to question yourself.You remember how all your friends started to fall ill,and how
rival attacks became more and more frequent.One night,you barely escaped your hut, and saw the
dome take fire.It was hell on earth.Most people were too sick to defend it, so you were
overwhelmed.A while later, you got sick too,and the blisters and slight necrosis appeared on your
limbs,but you never got worser than that, until recently.It was as if your organism could fight back
the plague,but only a fraction of it.Other settlements got devastated too.The Second Era as you
knew it was ending,and fast.Months passed, and now you find yourself walking one final journey.
The landscape is gloomy.Barren trees litter the path.Cadavers are common now.Sometimes you
find it hard to distinguish if they are red from the illness or their exposed flesh because of the
crows.You wear some battered cracows and linen pants.Around your face you improvised a rag
mask.Sometimes, in the forest steppe, the airs become hard to breathe.Your backpack has a little
water and some dry remains of a crow.You still have an idea about how green grass was, but it
slowly starts to fade in your mind.Since the last two days, you keep finding it harder and harder to
digest the food,and the water barely fills your stomach.You lack any kind of weapon,because these
days an alive human is a rare sight.Rest in peace.
In your hands you clutch a certain object.It is a metallic cylinder.It looks clean,new,and
shiny.Almost opposed to what once Mike wanted to find in the ruins.Upon touch,you find the
cylinder void of information.It feels as if it existed forever, and only a most experienced craftsman
could replicate such an object.On its surface, you can feel tiny inscriptions that tickle your
fingers.The orange sun shines on the cylinder.It is the most valuable object you have ever laid your
hands on.After some tiresome walking, the sun finally sets.You curl up near a tree, and skilfully
light a fire.This night, you finally manage to force yourself into eating those remains you had in your
backpack.You know the plague is hitting your body pretty hard, but you only need your legs for a
little while longer.You fall asleep.
You dream about Galilahi.She was the only woman that you truly once loved.She was
outgoing,social and warm hearted.Galilahi was the only name that flew through your mind every
day.She was the one that taught you how to properly build a fire.She made you learn that animals
have souls too,and that you must treat them right.You may have an animal,and certainly other
things in life, but the animal only has you.Galilahi showed you the way to happiness.She taught
you many things,but the most important,how to love.One day, you came to your hut only to find that
Galilahi was talking to some elderly woman.Tears of happiness were running down her eyes.She
looked at you,and you realised she was going to be a mother.This was the most memorable thing
in your life.For a second there,you forgot the shape of grass,or how the fast the cars were.You
knew humanity changed in your absence,but one aspect of it remained the same.You loved
Galilahi too much.You remembered her black,braided hair, and how she one day came home and
you saw...
Your body spasms.Standing near the tree, with the fire extinguished,a hooded man pushes your
head against the ground with what seems a wooden club.You quickly get your hands up,trying to
stop the pressure on your neck.The attacker then pushes your chin up,and looks at you.He speaks
in some unknown language,but you reckon he demands your belongings.On a quick note,you
check his skin,and he looks either healthy or at the beggining of the plague.Adrenaline fills your
body,and you can feel your metallic cylinger clutched in your fingers.You jump up and hit the man
with the object.He is stunned for a second, and his club falls in a puddle of mud.You can see him
taking something shiny from the back of his pants.He lunges at you, and you can feel a cold blade
entering your belly.You feel a burning sensation, and you look down.Your face feels as if a
thousand ants cover it.But you remember something,and you feel the metal cylinder in your hands
again.In a few moves, the attacker is tackled down, and you punch him over and over.Your
knuckles start to hurt after a while, so you stop.Checking your wound,it isn't a deep stab.The
agressor has nothing of value,except for his dirty clothes.You get up quickly and throw up the crow
meat.Another meal for nothing.You quickly gather yourself and start walking the reddish dirt road
again.It is morning,and a chill air fills the barren road.During your journey, you learnt how lonliness
can drive you psychotic,and how sensory deprivation is much worse than that.After the Red Fever
took its grip on humanity,many corpses littered the roads.The smell was horrid,and you could
barely look in their direction without getting itchy eyes.Now you struggle to breathe,and you groan
while doing it.Your eyes have a yellowish tint,and your lips are cracked.You press a rag against the
wound,but the faint bleeding dosen't stop.The cylinder is finally dirty,and it reminds you of the
encounter every time you touch it.Its form is still perfect,and in some places it still shines under the
sun.
After a few hours the air gets a little hotter,and a new day finally begins.Your feet begin to feel
heavier and heavier.Although you have just woken up a while ago, you feel like taking a rest
again.When you try to sit down,suddenly the cold cylinder presses against your skin,and you
quickly get up and start walking again,this time at a faster pace.You try and concentrate your eyes
on your feet.Sometimes you count the steps,other times the distance between them.It's the only
thing that keeps your mind awake for now.You look up,and see a mysterious figure looming in the
distance.You can feel a cold sweat running down your neck.For the first time in a while, you feel
out of options.You haven't spoken in a long time, and your vocal cords are inflamated because of
the Red Fever.You can't fight them either,because another blow could mean the end.You have a
strong feeling of dread,and your legs just give up.With your head down,you wait for your destiny.
The man in the distance looks old,but still strong on his feet.He wears a grey scarf over his
mouth,a tunic that would look beautifully sewn if it wasn't so dirty, and some leather sandals.His
eyes tell many stories, but under the stare of suffering,there is an innocent blue.He has a
horse,which patiently follows his relaxed walk.The man's name is Samson.
You can hear the steps louder and louder.You clutch the metallic cylinder with all your might,and
some tears run down your cheeks.Samson tells his horse to stop and looks at you.Seeing your
rashes and necrosis, he thinks you're another goner,but then,your bloody rag slips on the
ground,and he starts to mumble.The metallic object in your hand is shinnier than ever.Samson is
an old man,and seeing this,he is reminded of something.
"Is this the cure?",he softly asks,then looks at you in disbelief.An idea crosses your mind.Grasping
for air, you try to force yourself to speak again."Maku..Makura",you mumble and then you hand him
the cylinder, your only true valuable.Samson looks at it, then reads the letters embedded.He
understands.The man tries to leave,but you shout something,and look down,because your vocal
cords never hurt so bad.The old man looks back, and sees you in pain.It is time for a rest.Samson
unsheathes his dagger,and with a quick move stabs you in your chest.You move your head up.He
looks at you straight in the eye and nods, respectfully.You smile,and after a few seconds, close
your eyes.
Samson then quickly saddled up and rode with his horse.He rode day and night,having only one
simple goal: to open the object.The old man barely ate these days of travel,but his horse was
carrying the heavy load.Its legs became soft,skinny and full of cuts.After a few days of rough
travelling,Samson was getting close.His horse was weaker than ever.After so many hours of
galloping without some rest,it collapsed and never stood back up.The old man got hit pretty bad,
and had a nasty cut on his forehead.He quickly got up,and looked at the horizon.In the distance he
saw what looked like the remains of some big circular building made of wood.The dirt was red and
full of black ash.A stone slab was sitting just in front of Samson.The cylinder was in his pocket, and
upon closure to the slab it began to vibrate vividly.He took it in his hands, and kneeled in front of
the stone.Thick smoke escaped out of the cylinder and it began to open.The old man opened his
eyes and saw it.
In his hands there was a beautifully preserved rose,that seemed to shine brighter than the object it
was kept in.Samson gracefully put the rose down,near the stone slab that read:
"May the wind under you wings bear you where the sun sails and the moon walks.Here Lies
Galilahi and her unborn son,Porto"
Stunned,Samson slowly got up and started to walk,with many questions in his head.His legs were
heavier than ever, and he was hyperventilating,while his fingers were cold as ice.He kept slowly
walking with his head down,until...He understood.Hearing nothing but the ringing in his
ears,Samson's resolve was tested.He looked up, as if his sight was destined for the heavens,
and,within the next second,he started walking faster and bolder.For the first time in a long while, a
human stopped suffering,while wearing sadness as an armor.His thoughts were clear, and his
every step was making the soil a little blacker again.