The collapse: Chapter 1

The collapse

  It is like the first time I've opened my eyes. Regardless of the severe soreness that threatens the action, the lusty curiosity inside always finds a way to force my eyes alive. In the constant companion of tinkling sound of shackles, a pair of stumbling feet breaks into my sight, hardly catch up to each other. In proportion to the louder noise, growing presence of moving limbs around me involve, as well as my feelings that start to revive. Not until this startling scene did I realize I am a part of them, a part of those who suffer the cracking back by a heavy burden, whose only prop to lean on to is an almost distorted crane, whose body undergoes relentless intrude from coldness and pain. Stiffen and frozen, all suddenly so human!

  Rising from the forwarding crowd, I reluctantly stand on the crane, greeted by the howling wind that thrilled for finding a new audience. Now there's no way for me to keep the pace, for I've been shocked at the view I ought to have been aware of thousands years ago.

  Under the enormous moon against the night sky, I am drenched in the middle of an extremely vast turbulent black river, only comprised of the ebbs and flows of bags on people's back, trudging up to hills. As far as I can see through, there's no end but a small amount of people who also stand against the faceless tide.

  The strangely increasing weight I feel from the bag overstep my astonishment, bit by bit, it draws me backward and throws me down the hill. Without enough time to react, the painful rolling ends up in a crash into glass.

Chapter 1

  This is my third time to turn my head around to the clock.



  "It's two o'clock." I reassure myself with the iron framed clock that vows to hold the time deadly to match up to the timing for a dream, and then I lie down for another one to go.



  But one can't keep their eyes shut when a bursting sound of crashing glass outside the window boggles them.



"What happened?" I jump up to pull the curtain.





  I see it. I'm seeing it. A giant pillar of water flushes right from an obvious broken hole on the moon down to the ground, along with other pillars in different directions from the sky, causing a rapid flood that rises at an unprecedented rate.    People flock to their balconies and hold their breath, all for the later generosity of screams.



  "Run! Get outta here!"



  Presenting the essence of life, the sentence strikes me as a lightning to allow survival to dominate my mind. Before I can make further movement, a sudden slant of the building plunges me to the closed door and make a lavish smash at me with all my books and toys. When it comes back to balance, I tumble through the corridor to living room in search of a flashlight, and rush to the balcony for a better view of the whole situation, only to find myself left in worsen horror:



  Roads and streets are far beyond seen as they're smothered in the flowing silver stripes that try to cut out each area. Following quivers of the building, the flood seems lower. However, the effect of flood going away proves to be an illusion, there's never enough to fill when one perceives that the flood roars past the heightening cliffs it makes with strong crash, leaving different shapes of remaining ground under each group of buildings. Almost simultaneously, grounds with trees on the edge fold partly down to vertical side as if to form some kind of gadget. Within minutes, rather than saying floods vanishing, we're rising! As more of the dirt rushed away, holding up the whole structures are bulks of unknown material beneath buildings. All in all, complex processes fall to a staggering result: transform all the buildings to ships!



  Resonance of a familiar sound whirls up from the lower place. Through glowing reflections, I can see bunches of chains attached between every ships (if I may be allowed to say this word from now). Not just buildings, the central garden in our community and a clock tower marked the division are subjected to their own bulk. Unsteady and wavy, we strand above the flood.



  Flashlights that go off from distant darkness sway helplessly here and there, in a crazy frequency. Beams swipe across the field in hope of reaching something comfortable, including the one that comes from my hand. Without too much to see in the dark since subsequent power cut, what you can expect is the symphony of loud talking, vase breaking and dogs barking. I pace around and stomp my feet. No matter what I do to distract myself, there jumps out the question: "What's next? What's next?" I've tried to avoid the most guessable reason when trails of strange delight sparkle in my heart.



  As if touched by my sincere requests, the nightmare announces its journey by a large quake following the breaking noises of chains. Debut with blowing wind and larger crying, all the ships start to move.



  "Watch out!" A flaming airplane squeals down through the air and crashes into the flood-turned sea not far ahead.  lights up the sky and sends plumes of smoke to drain our will of resistance. A mile hasn't been made, some of the ships protest their new structure in a hurry. Can't afford the speed, the clock tower, ringing the most desperate bell ever, falls back onto the garden and both of them shatter apart, triggering great disturbance around us.



  "Please, help me!"

  "It's Apocalypse!"

  "Down to hell, human!"

  ...



  If you hope to find some profound and complicated words to be said by people right now, it's effortless. In this moment, any short words that come at handy could be shouted, and there's no time to judge anyone. As a perfect example, I am holding onto the handrail like a koala and chanting frantic words from my mouth. But I'm not going to laugh at myself.



  Independent of any emotion, the ships keeps moving toward certain direction. I've seen no light ahead of the sky, all the most natural darkness one can remember. Anything that sounds hostile can touch on people's nerves, anything like scarier screams or more severe crashes that are coming nearer.



  "Where are we going?" one shouts.

  "Who the hell know, just dive in the water and hide through the disaster." Another shouts back.

  "Are you fucking retarded? I don't wanna die so fast!"

  "Oh, goddess! Save us! "



  Their volume begins to vary as ships come across a strong current and stampede like crazy to spread across all directions.



  Original group of ships has been hashed and taken over by ships and boats of all sizes and appearances. Houses and buildings are hilariously held upon the boards, as if creatures can't wait to show off new offensive weapon. One declares the war by having rows of buildings it holds crumbled down like dominos when bumps into another ship, murmurs hidden tragedy with falling debris on its neighbors, trying to find one more company for the pending death.



  Horror sees more and more participants ranged from ships to humans. Quarrels down the other side of the ground draw my attention. Commodities and packages are all around the floors where shops are clustered with looters who, unite when they're inside and collide outside. Everyone with anything on their hands could be target. On and off, against the blood-tainted floor, looters twist together, stretching the body out of natural limit and exerting the strength they'd never break through. The true war has begun.



  I fumble all over the apartment for foods and water, close all the potential portals and clutch the key to the door in my hand. But the sorting doesn't sound promising for the ambition to live longer is diminished by the fact of broken bottle of water, snacks and soft drinks, or do I need this ambition? Keeping the search, I pick through the mess. Plastic bags? Brooms? What do I really need? Why those well-remembered scenes from dramas or novel suddenly lose their effect? I shovel into a backpack whatever I think is necessary, at long last, a string of long rope and a knife which I've been pondering over for some time.



  Drawn out from the sheath, the knife shines a cold light. I hold it tight, stare at it and, almost out of instinct, make a sudden slash to the air. The very next second, I drop it down quickly and step back in disbelief.



  "What am I doing?" "It's just defense!" "I...I can't do this!" "You can scare them away!" "But..." "Take it, Milly, as long as you don't mean to hurt them."



  After the confrontation that doesn't take too long in my mind, I am convinced to hide it in my pocket. In the same time, I look out from the balcony, amid all the haste and crashes, there also come and go cabins or houses on boats. They merely crash and sink, or float aimlessly striving for least existence. Despite all this, any guess about where ships are heading is in vain. No matter where people run to, back and forth, left or right, they're inevitably dragged by this great flood.



  Obvious lower speed can be felt as time goes. Luckily, the ship I'm in suffers only a little damage. Divided into blocks in the surface, it's actually a large building as a whole, forming a shape of crescent, but more resemble a hug if observed from further. To explain more I have to wait to next chapter. Curse the lower speed, sleepiness reclaims me!



  "Would I want it to be a dream?" I ask myself. But a voice comes: 'Wait till you wake up, you'll know the answer'.