Sahara

The fire feasted on the plane, leaving only a scorched heap of melted metal. No one had survived. Only him.

The solid ocean stretched, undulating and endless. Gentle waves, controlled by the biting cold winds, rippled through the surface, unobstructed by any vegetation. Slowly, the waves picked up speed, transforming into a mini tsunamis. Finally, they reached a lone obstacle, and threw themselves against it. Wave after wave, they blasted against the plane, making a terrible noise. A sandstorm in the Sahara.

It seemed like eternity until the sandstorm ceased its assault. Only when the soft drone of the insects could be heard, did the boy emerge from under his blanket, which hardly served its purpose as a shelter.

The boy shivered. The night was still, but cold. As he tried to stop his teeth from chattering, the child could not wonder but worry about his uncertain future. Everything had happened too fast. One moment, he was with his parents going for a holiday to Venice, then the next, they were dead and now, he was stranded all alone in the middle of the biggest desert in the world. Realisation hit him like a bombshell and his eyes started to water.

He stared at the open sky. Blackness reigned supremacy, the moon’s glow was faint, like a flickering candle which could be extinguished anytime. There were no stars, nor clouds. Empty.

The beauty of the desert was ironic. The vastness terrified but yet, at the same time, awed the boy. The boy, who had lived his whole life in a city, was not accustomed to the quietness of the desert, aside from the animal cries and the insect drone. And as that last of the glowing embers of the fire died out, the boy had only the moon to rely on as a source of light.

But it was no time to appreciate the nature. Presently, the boy felt something prodding his back.

A sand viper.

The boy knew it distinctly from what he had learnt from his Science textbook. Except he was face-to-face with it now.

He took no chances and ran blindly, taking only his blanket. His feet sank into the soft sand, slowing him down considerably. Then, he struck a sharp pebble. He stumbled, rolling down a slope. He choked, his mouth full of sand. A sickening thud of his head colliding with a protuberance, slowed his descent. Finally, the boy came to rest at the foot of the slope, unconscious.

Blood poured from his wound freely. The red liquid seeped through the sand quickly for the Earth was thirsty for liquid.

The night passed with another sandstorm. Layers after layers of sand covered the little boy. By the next day, all traces of the boy had vanished.

The last survivor was gone.