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whadawhaaa · 3 hours ago

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Its been two weeks since the last earth-shaking explosion rattled the bunker my family has been holed up in during the war. The past three years have felt like a blur, a monotonous chant that I can't even remember the words to.

Most days consisted of mom quietly humming as she swept away the dirt, her hair seemingly becoming more gray and frazzled each time the bunker rumbled and dirt fell from the ceiling, extending the chore like a never ending loop. My younger brother spent most of his time playing through my old DS games, not like we had internet the moment the first bomb dropped. The first few weeks he would ask "How much longer" hourly and he seemed restless, complaining about the processed food and canned veggies we had to sustain on. As the weeks turned to months, eventually years he too became silent.

I remember my dad, explaining to Mom the action plan, helping us pack our emergency bags and sending us on our way. He told us he would see us soon, but I think we all lost hope within the first few months, even though my mom still tells my brother how Dad will be so happy to see us when we finally reunite on the surface

"This is different," I remember Dad's words as he looked up to the sky before seeing us off, "I promise you will be safe, I promise I will see you soon." With one last bear hug, off we went. Somewhere in the middle of nowhere after hours of driving Mom pulled off to the side of the road. The Pacific-northwest wilderness all around us.

"Where are we?" I looked up from my phone, immediately noticing the tears running down her cheeks, "...Mom?"

"We have to walk the rest of the way," she said, obviously trying to keep her voice from trembling. "Your dad has left markers, he told me I would recognize them."

She took a deep breath, "Grab your brother and your bags, I'll get the first aid kits and the rest of the supplies."

We got out and I opened the back seat, "Come on, Cam," unbuckling him from the car seat. He was so much smaller, only five when it all ended. "Time to walk!"

We trekked through the cold for what seemed like hours in one direction and then my mom stopped.

"There," she pointed at a pine off to the right, etched into it were to letters. "N + C" I immediately recognized mine and Cameron's initials.

As we walked towards it I could see Mom's eyes darting around, scanning quickly and taking in every detail of the area, "Nic, I need you to help me find-" she cut off as in the distance she points at another tree with the same initials, "There!" she started running, "Look for them, Nic, we need to go!"

We followed tree after tree for miles, and eventually came to a clearing with a large boulder in the middle. My mother has been a stay at home mom for as long as I can remember, but she began digging around the pine needles and dirt at the base of the rock, as if years of training were kicking in.

Finally with an "Aha!" and some tugging at the base of it, a small tremor began, a hatch lifted about twenty feet away.

"Nic, I know we haven't explained much to you at this point, but I need you to be strong, your fifteen now and I don't know how long we are going to be here." Mom looked both terrified and stern at the same time, "We will be here until Dad comes and gets us, there is a very big war that is about to happen. Do you understand?"

I looked into the shadows beyond the hatch, "Are we mole people now?"

A small wave of humor wiped across her face "Nic, this is not the time for jokes, but yes"

Ever since then the bunker has been home. We listened and waited, stocks of canned and dehydrated goods sustaining us as the ground shook around us day after day for years. When the first day came without a bomb being dropped I don't think any of us realized, after three days Mom put Cameron down for bed and motioned for me to follow her out of the small bunk room we shared.

"Its been days now, do you think its safe?" My voice was raspy, I couldn't remember the last time I spoke aloud. Weeks? Months?

"I-I don't know," she turned to me with same terrified stern look she had two years before. I realized the pressure we were under, and not just from being fifty feet below the surface. "We need to wait until your father-"

"Mom, when are you going to stop acting as if he survived? We need to figure this out." Did anyone else survive? Who won the war? How long do we wait.

"Nic, it is very important that we wait, your dad is a very resourceful man and if he said he will come to us then I believe him" She walked towards the ladder in the corner of the room and looked up from where we climbed down.

"How long?" I asked bluntly, "How long do we sit here hiding before we accept he didn't survive? Something up there has been shaking us out in the middle of nowhere for years" I start to realize the time we've spent in the dark, disconnected, "There are so many things that could be happening and we cannot guarantee anything!"

"Two weeks." she said, without looking away from the only way up. "I will wait two weeks, and if no more tremors we can go to the surface. I will go to the surface and check if its safe."

Here I am, two weeks later trying to sleep as anxiety rips through me and what is going to happen tomorrow when we wake up. Will it be safe? Is there anyone left? Slowly as I drift to sleep, these unanswered questions exhausting me I feel a small tug. No, not a tug, a lift, as if a small wave pulled me above water briefly. My eyes snap open and I look at the battery clock next to my bunk, its time.

I walk out and I see my mom standing in the main room, dressed as if she had somewhere to go for the first time in months, and she did.

"I'm going up," she said, "Watch Cameron and I'll be right back down." She picked up a small device off the kitchen table, turning it on made it click and whistle, then silence. "I need to see if we are in danger from radiation."

She grabs the metal ladder, her foot on the first rung, "If its safe, we need to hope the car is where we left it otherwise we will be walking for a while" she began to climb up into the darkness.

After about ten minutes when I heard the hatch opening echo down the tunnel and again I felt the tug, stronger this time. It felt as if I was standing in the ocean and a wave tried to lift me off of my feet, I felt a tingling sensation course though me and release as if shooting out of my fingertips. When I heard the hatch close the sensation almost immediately cut off, "Shit." I said aloud, thinking to myself it must be radiation. I grew more and more anxious as I heard Mom's steps get closer and closer to the bottom until she appeared from the dark.

"Its-" She paused, turning around her face looking like a mix of confused and stressed, "Its clear, no traces at all."

Then what was that feeling? I must've looked a certain way while thinking and Mom read me like a book.

"I don't know what the was when I opened the hatch, Nic, but you're right. We cannot sit and wait until our food supply is gone, we need to find help." She grabs our bags and sets them on the table, quickly gathering supplies. "Go get Cameron ready."

We gather everything and I get Cameron dressed, he asks a hundred questions I don't have the answer to and I just keep telling him we need to go back to the car. Finally, we get go up. Mom first, then Cameron, then me. Slowly making our way through the dark until Mom stops below the hatch. Our dimly lit abode below us looks like a small speck five stories below us.

"My arms hurt!" Cameron whines.

"Give me just a sec to-hah! Found it!" The hatch clicks and Mom pushes it open letting in a burst of light and fresh air. My body feels light again, a sudden rush pushes me and I feel like I'm going to shoot straight up like a cork in a bottle.

We crawl out and everything looks surprisingly familiar. The air feels crisp with a slight tinge of fall and wet pine needles to give me an idea of the time of year. The sensation continues to pull me upwards, I feel pressure building as if I'm a balloon being pushed under water. The tingling sensation feels as if it is concentrated on the tips of my fingers and I look down and-

"Mom, what's going on!?" I hold up my hand and as I do sparks begin to shoot from it, no pain only pressure.

"I-I don't know Nic, are you ok? Does it hurt?" She looks horrified, "Shake it off!"

I start shaking my hand, I feel tears welling up even though I don't feel hurt, just scared. The sparks fade. I look down at my hand and see light blue lines tracing along my veins and fading up my arm. I reach out and the outlines pulse as if alive. My hand is no longer shooting sparks and I move my fingers to make sure everything is ok. They meet friction when I move them, something that feels almost like my old guitar strings pushing against my fingers, a clump of chords in my hand when I ball it into a fist. I reach out slowly and run my index finger down as if to strum the invisible instrument, quickly with each passing chord, a faint blue line lights up as I move downward, one by one lighting up and fading fast behind.

I take a step forward, and besides the pressure inside my chest, there is nothing stopping me moving. I take a swing with my hand and like a harp, the faint chords appear vertically behind the motion, fading as quickly as they appeared.

A voice rings through my mind, a voice like music.

"You have a natural talent, you understand the magic coursing through you as a beautiful song waiting to be played"

"Who are you?!" I say aloud.

"Nic, who are you talking to?" Mom looks so scared, Cam looks up at me, his eyes bright with curiosity.

"Its been a long time since I have been awake in this world, so many voices, too many for me to handle. At last I can hear the music through all of the noise!"

"If you don't tell me who you are, I-I-" I stammer out, not knowing what I would do if the voice doesn't give me an answer.

"Calm down, child. I am not here to hurt you, in fact I am your savior, your muse. Soon you will understand, soon you will play such beautiful songs for me, you will compose symphonies for my orchestra. For I, child, am Mystra."

The magic weave is real, every human pulls from it. But the vast Ocean that is the weave is not infinite and as the human population rises the power one can pull from the weave becomes almost non existent. Earth just faced a apocalyptic event that wiped out 80% of humanity and you feel the weave

#writing #creative writing #me

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