Rebith Through Fire (Ssc #2)

[Zarohum]

For SSC #2: The Christmas ConnectionForeword: Genre? Um... I guess apocalypse. This has got to be the best thing I've ever written, if I do say so myself. I haven't done anything outside of fan fiction for a while, except for school, and even then I hardly ever get a chance to write something completely original. About the genre, it's in a post-apocalyptic world. It's part sci-fi though, and also has bits of philosophy and theology thrown in. Oh, and a little romance. Yes. That's write. 16-year-old guy writing about romance. It was just to get some points across, though.This whole thing came together so well. I had this idea in my mind of a teenage guy in a post-apocalyptic world struggling to believe in anything, unsure of himself, basically alone except for one friend. And while Nick's family didn't really play a very significant part in the story, Nick and Amanda just came alive as soon as I started writing about them. I also made several allusions to mythology and christmas stories, and most of them I didn't even realize I was doing until I proofread it. Of course I revised it to make them a bit more obvious, but... this story just came alive. I also threw in some philosophy, some of it my own ideas. I'm kind of self-conscious about non-fan-fiction, so please be gentle with feedback.

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December 24, 12 years after the cataclysmHard to believe it's been 12 years. Though I was only five years old when it happened, I still remember it clear as day. As clear as days used to be, at least, before thee sky turned the ugly rust color it is now. Maybe that's for the best. We need those who are left to remember the past, to pass on the human legacy.A whole twelve years. I don't think I've ever written it all down before. Maybe I should, in case I one day forget. I was five years old. My family was sitting in the living room of our house in Seattle around 11 PM. My father Manny, my mom Mary, and my little sister Natalie, who was only a year old at the time. My mother received a call from her friend, who told her to turn on any channel on the TV immediately. There, we saw the president, holding back tears, reciting a speech.“My fellow Americans, it is with a heavy heart that I must inform you of the most terrible event in history. Prime Minister Hui of China, in an attempt to pursue his efforts, has decided to attempt to unite the world. He has launched a series of nuclear weapons aimed at the largest cities of the world until all the governments of the world submit to his cause. He will rain death upon the human race until we comply with his wishes, and come together as a single nation.”As the president continued, I became confused. The stories I had heard in church always talked about the human race being united after the end of the world. Why would a single government be bad? My parents tried to explain it to me, but I didn't understand at the moment. They said that people must do it voluntarily, and that killing millions of people was not the way to bring the world together. It made sense.In a moment of supreme irony, the world did come together, if only for a short time. The United Nations held an emergency session, and voted on whether to bomb China or not. The vote was unanimous. Even the Chinese diplomat agreed to launch all the world's nuclear weapons at Shanghai, the seat of Hui's power. But it was too late. Death rained down upon the world, annihilating every major city. We listened as a news anchor listed all the cities we had lost. The wave of weapons was coming toward us, hitting Denver, then San Francisco, Los Angeles, Portland... and then it stopped. The news anchor, overcome with joy, reported that Hui had be killed, and his reign of terror had ended in just a few short hours. Over the next decade, almost the whole human race died of radiation poisoning. Those who didn't die in the initial bombing perished after suffering from Leukemia. There are an estimated three hundred thousand people still alive worldwide, with only five hundred in the United States, three hundred of those in Seattle. All of us have at least a small trace of radiation poisoning, some worse than others. My sister Natalie is one of the worse cases.I'll try to ignore it. It's Christmas eve, and every year we come together and tell stories, and try to be happy. One of the stories is about a lamp that burned for twelve days when it was needed the most, there's one about a fat guy in red, and one about the son of God being born. Most don't believe any of these. They say that if there was a God, then billions of people wouldn't have died. And the fat guy in red is just ridiculous. I'll admit that I often find myself in doubt of the existence of a greater being. It's times like that that I talk to my best friend Amanda, who I've been friends with practically since we could talk.Amanda's... well, she's amazing. She's probably the smartest person I know. Her mother was a librarian (Who was actually the friend who called my mom on the night of the bombing.), and her father was the head of a museum. They had been working on collecting as much information as possible about how the world had been before the bombing, until they both died slow and painful deaths about four years ago. Amanda still hasn't gotten over it, and is constantly either reading or finding books. She says the world generations from now has to know what happened before them, and so she has to round up anything she can. She's kind of obsessed that way.I went to her house earlier today, actually. She's lived alone there ever since her family died. After walking a few miles through the gray snow, I came to her door and knocked in a rhythm, which we had made up years ago. It was a secret way of saying who was at the door. Pretty clever, if I do say so myself. After a moment, Amanda opened the door wearing sweatpants and a coat. “Going somewhere?” I asked.“No. Uh, the furnace blew a few weeks ago. Didn't I tell you?”“No,” I answered.“Oh. Then guess what, Nick. The furnace broke a few weeks ago.”“No way. Really?”“Yeah.”“Oh. Why didn't you tell me until now?” I teased. She laughed.“Guess what I found out.”“What? Did your furnace break?”She stared at me, raising an eyebrow and holding back a grin. “No. What I was gonna say was that Santa Claus is real.”Now it was my turn to raise an eyebrow. “No, really. What is it?”“I'm serious. Santa Claus as we know him in the stories isn't real. Don't ask me how he would've survived the melting of the north pole forty years ago. But really, the character Santa Claus was based on Saint Nicholas, a real man who lived in the 300s A.D. He actually slapped a guy once.”“Santa Claus slapped someone.”“Kinda. Council of Nicea in 325 A.D. He slapped a man named Arian for challenging Jesus's divinity.” She explained, walking into the living room. I followed. She sat on the couch, and I made myself comfortable in a chair.“Interesting,” I said, barely interested. Surprised, maybe. But not interested.“So why are you here? No offense.”“Um... I wanted to talk to you about something. Some people celebrate Christmas, Hannukah, Ramadan, whatever. They all believe in some God of some kind...”She cut me off “Actually, Christianity, Judaism, and Islam all believe in the same God.”“Well, I knew about Judaism and Christianity. But... really?”“Yeah.”I hesitated to process the thought. After a second or two, I picked up where I stopped. “Anyway, most people celebrate the traditions and everything, but hardly anyone actually believes in any of it. And honestly,” I sighed, “I'm starting not to believe it either. I mean, it's true what they say. If there was a God, why wouldn't he stop Hui from basically ending the world?” I stood up.“Familiar with the story of Noah?”“Not really.”“It's a story from the Bible.”“Another one?” I sighed.“The world was corrupt and evil. Everyone was obsessed with what they wanted, and never thought about anyone else. So God told this guy Noah to build a boat and save his family and all the animals, so that life could go on, and then he destroyed the world with a huge flood. He killed almost everyone in the world because society couldn't keep going the way it was. That's kind of what was happening before Hui came along.”“I doubt the whole world flooded,” I said.“So do I. A lot of people believe the story was actually about the end of the Ice Age.”“The what?”“There was a time back around the start of human civilization that...”“No, thanks. Save it for another time. I don't need to know the history of the universe right now.” Amanda looked really sad. I came back and sat next to her. “Sorry. I didn't mean it like that.”“It's fine,” She said. Clearly she was not fine.“Well, maybe I should go now.”“Maybe you should,” She said, not looking up. I hesitated for a moment.“Guess I'll show myself out, then. I'll see you at the party later I guess,” I turned around and left. As I walked through the door, I heard faint sobbing. That wasn't like Amanda. She was pretty strong when it came to insults, and that wasn't even supposed to be an insult. Obviously something else was on her mind. Probably either her parents or the events of twelve years ago. Or did my non-interest in history really upset her that much?I went back home, passing my family in the living room. “Something wrong?” my mom asked. I was upset about hurting Amanda, but I didn't think it showed that much.“I'm fine,” I said, proceeding to my room. I opened my closet and looked up on a shelf, where I had all my Christmas presents for my family and Amanda. The Power of Myth by Joseph Campbell. It was an interview between an expert on myths, Joseph Campbell, and one of the best journalists of the late 20th century, Bill Moyers. I've actually read part of it myself, and it's really insightful into the very essence of human nature. When I found it, I couldn't help but think of all the things Amanda would say about it. She's been trying to get a copy of it for years, but apparently almost all of the copies of it around the world have been lost. That's the thing about Christmas presents nowadays. You can't simply buy something for someone. Money is now just useless pieces of cheap cloth. Stores are empty, with nothing stopping anyone from taking what they want. Everyone has everything they want, so presents have to be something either really rare or really thoughtful. My family helped set up for the Christmas party. Though every building in the city (And country, for that matter) is empty, we always have the party outside. We set up tables and chairs for all three hundred fifty eight people, put up a sound system through which music would be played later, and decorated the buildings all around the area with glowing lights. My dad and I, along with a few others went to a forest a few miles out of town to find a tree. The one we found was huge, with thick branches. It towered probably twenty feet high, and it took three cars lined up to move it. When we got it up in town, I realized I was probably going to be nominated to help decorate it. And I was. God, I hate heights. It was soon dark, and people started to show up. I realized I didn't have Amanda's present with me, so I ran home to grab it. When I was there, I also decided to bring a fleece blanket in case it got too cold for just a coat, and I wrapped the book in it along the way. When I got back, the tree was about to be turned on. I took a seat by my family at one of the tables, and looked around for Amanda. She was nowhere to be seen. Why wouldn't she want to come? Even if she was mad at me, it was Christmas Eve, and she could spend time with her other friends. She... had other friends, right? I then realized that I had never heard her talk about other friends, and had never even seen her with anyone since her parents passed away. Was that it? Did she feel like she lost her only friend? I felt terrible about what I had said to her.The tree was lit, and the meal was served. Chicken, as rare as it was now, with potatoes, corn, and other food that was once plentiful. This was partially a celebration of the past, of the anniversary of the worst event in history, so why not eat the food we used to eat every day? When dinner was over, we gathered either by the speakers, or by a fire surrounded by benches made from logs. My family went to listen to music, but I went by the fire. I soon saw Amanda walking up nervously, and I went to greet her. She didn't make eye contact with me. “Hey,” I said.“Um... hi.”“You're late. Like two hours late.”“I know.”Pause.“Sorry about earlier. I didn't know it would offend you that much.”“No, it wasn't that. I just have a lot on my mind today,” She replied, still looking away.“The bombs, your parents...”“Yeah. That and... I don't know. Yeah. My parents.”“You're lying.”“I don't feel like talking about it. I was gonna say something before, but... I don't know if I really want to tell you.”“Well, come sit down,” I said, leading her to the “benches.” We watched the fire for a few minutes silently. Soon, everyone started to leave, one by one. Soon, we were alone.“It's cold,” Amanda sighed, scooting a little closer to me. I remembered the blanket I had brought, and saw this as the perfect opportunity to give her the book. I reached in my bag and pulled it out. “This old thing?” She exclaimed when she saw it.“What?” I asked.“When we were little and I was at your house once, we made a fort out of some chairs and pillows, and we used this for the ceiling. Remember?” She chuckled.“Yeah... I do now. I forgot about it.” A moment of silence. “Well, are you gonna put it on?” She unfolded the blanket, and started to wrap it around herself. The book fell to the ground. She immediately reached down and grabbed it. I couldn't help but look at her face when she picked it up. Her eyes widened, and she stared at it for several seconds. “Merry Christmas,” I said. She turned her head, looking at me, astonished. I stared back into her deep silver eyes, which reflected the fire blazing in front of us. “How did you find it?” She demanded.I realized I was looking at her too long, and turned my head, looking at the ground, embarrassed. The cold was getting through my jacket, and I began to shiver. “I looked all over for it. I've been trying to find it for months, ever since you first mentioned it. Took me a while, but I found it in a school's library.” “That's amazing. I didn't think there were anymore copies around here.” She saw I was shivering. “Want the blanket?”“I'm fine,” I lied.“Alright. If you say so.” She stopped talking for a moment. “Ever hear about the phoenix?”“The what?” I was listening this time. I wanted to know.“It's a mythical bird that lives for five hundred years. When it dies, it bursts into flames, and it's then reborn from its own ashes and grows up stronger than it was. .”“Our way of life was too old and screwed up, and we ended up destroying ourselves,” I understood the analogy.“And because of that, people from not on our probably going to care more about one another.”We sat there for a moment, silently. I continued to shiver, and Amanda decided to scoot closer to me. She put the blanket around both of us, and we looked into each other's eyes. “Um... what I was gonna tell you before... I don't really know how to say it.” She was nervous. I already knew what she wanted to say.“I... I love you too,” I said. I quickly looked away, embarrassed. Amanda shared the feeling.The warm and bright fire burned for a very long time. Amanda and I spent the next few hours watching the fire and talking, and I soon saw my family leave. The party died down, but Amanda and I sat there by the fire, together for hours. After a long time, she rested her head on my shoulder. We sat there together for hours, silently. No words were needed. Actually, words probably would have ruined the moment.By the time I got home, my family was asleep. I thought about what Amanda had said about the phoenix, and I thought that more about the phoenix might be true than most people realized. From our fight earlier, our friendship had been reborn, completely changed from what it once was. Through the fire at the party, I had been reborn. And I realized one last thing. While civilization is burning, only to be reborn in its ashes, the things that make us human - knowledge, memories, love – can never be destroyed. No matter how close they are to the fire, they are safe. Because the things that truly make us human, those few things that are perfect, cannot and will not ever need to be reborn.I should try to sleep. Tomorrow's Christmas.

[Toast of Awesomeness]

Dude. This is great. Haha, really. The only thingI can say is that in the foreword, you used the word "write" instead of "right". :PI really enjoyed reading this, and I think you've come up with a really good entry. Good luck to ya!

[Zarohum]

You used the word "write" instead of "right".

Oops...Thanks for reviewing

[Ezorov]

Wow, good job! I really enjoyed reading this one :)Great plot, and I loved your characters. Your writing really pulled me into the story.Good luck in the contest!