The last survivors
Hope. We hope people can save us. We hope everything will be okay. We hope for survival. Hope does nothing, it just brings us disappointment when hope lets us down.
And here I am, standing on the roof of skyscraper in San Francisco looking down at the city, water fills the streets rushing in with massive force, they’ve warned us about one, a tsunami, they told us it would come and destroy anything in its path.
They were right, but no one believed them, a few people moved out of town just to be safe, others joked around about a tsunami coming “what a waste of time” my brother would tell my parents as they prepared a tsunami survival kit, which is now probably floating around in the endless sea. One thing they didn’t tell us was the height, 115 feet tall. Taking down tall buildings people thought they were safe in, climbing up hills people thought would be high enough. Destroyed, everything is destroyed. I kick a small pebble off the roof as I wonder about my parents. They could be alive, maybe they reached a high enough building in time, maybe they’re standing on a roof of a building wondering if I’m alive. I stop myself from hoping they’re okay. I know they’re dead, before I left home to come visit my brother at his work they told me they were going to take a walk around the neighbourhood. They probably got swept away from the wave like everyone else.
My brother, I hope he’s alive, there I am hoping again. He was right behind me running up the stairwell as water climbed the stairs behind us “Keep going, reach the top” he yelled up at me. I kept running, never bothering turning back. As I reached the top of this skyscraper I turned around to see him nowhere. He was gone. Vanished. Swept away. I told myself he was coming but after two hours I gave up and started crying. Alone. Scared. Maybe he survived, I would tell myself. Although now that I think of it, he couldn’t of survived. We were running up a stairwell with the water at our heels I’m sure the water swept him up drowning him. But there’s hope he could be alive, maybe he found another way out. Hope. It’s what keeps us positive. I hate hope. Below me, the waves wash and destroy all the remaining hope.
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