Paradise - Chapter 1

Paradise is nothing more than a dream that is long forgotten. It is scorned. In this dark, desolate lifetime, how could such a haven exist? Each person is more miserable than the next. Existence seems futile now, with all meaning lost. What is existence anyway? Philosophers have debated the true meaning of life for ages. The meaning of life is to live. Why should such an insignificant thing deserve meaning? The only purpose is to live, day after day, not questioning the reason for living, not that such a reason exists anymore. 1

If there ever were a purpose, it was to betray and be betrayed. It is something people have become very adept at, over the ages. In life all you can do is follow your dreams, even down the dark paths they take you. Ambition is the most empowering human quality of all. It drives many to betray the trust that they were given. Trust is a funny thing. Humans desire to place trust in someone, to unload a heavy burden that they carry on their back, but to trust someone, is to take on an even heavier burden. To trust is to never anticipate the moment you will be betrayed, and betrayed, you will be. Due to this, the moment the betrayal comes, it slaps you hard across the face, leaving its red fingermarks on your tender cheeks. Psychological bruising that doesn’t heal. So in time, you come to accept that humanity is corrupt and if you trust it, it will betray you. 2

***3

Brandon was a tall, green-eyed man, with slim arms and legs. His black, neglected hair came down to his shoulders. He wore tattered blue jeans and a black jacket. He had even managed to get his hands on some black Converse shoes, the ones that had been so popular all those years ago. He had never really cared how he looked, nor had he cared how all the ladies would swoon as he passed by. At most he would nod his head towards them, taking pleasure in the evident dislike of the other men.4

Humans. Oh how he despised them, yet he himself was one. No - he was more than human. He had to be more than human. Humans fought, stole, lied, killed and betrayed. The species that, over the years have come to dominate Earth was ultimately corrupt. They fought, stole, lied, killed and betrayed until the only thing left was the eternal stench of humanity’s failure. And humanity was reaching the end of its time.5

The sunny day quickly changed to expose a greying sky and the thunder that loomed. Rain poured down on the now uncaring world. Hail came too. It smashed against the dome pretentiously, as if mocking the feeble existence humanity now depended on. From above the greyness, thunder growled, before lightning flashed, revealing to the few who still watched, the unseen world around them. 6

Brandon longed to feel the rain on his face. He longed to step outside the dome and embrace the rain. He longed to breathe in the moist air. At the beginning, many had done so. It was torture to live day in, day out, behind walls. The confined souls had pushed open the dusty doors of the dome, and for the first few hours, they had been happy. They had breathed in that sweetness and laughed in pure joy. But then a storm had come. It was not the first one, nor was it the last. The violent winds had blown the proud beings with such a force, that they lost their footing, and were carried with a fierce speed to the walls of the dome, where they meet a bloody end. No one had bothered to clean up the mess that was made, nor had they dared to. The hail, wind and rain over the last decade had slowly eroded and swept the bodies away, yet their memory still tarnished the dome, eradicating altogether, the hope that the people had once carried.7

But over time, all the food disappeared. Action was taken and opinions were voiced.8

“Our supply of food should last us three months at the most. No one has ventured out of the Dome for many years now. That must change. There is the chance of food outside the Dome. This is our only chance. Fools claim that we have options! Yet we only have one option. And that is to search for food somewhere else!”9

Yet people were still afraid.10

“Is there even proof that life exists anywhere else? Are we just supposed to leave the Dome, and blindly search for something that may not even exist? Such a plan is futile.” 11

“What is futile is staying in this dead land waiting for starvation to come upon us, which, it most certainly will!”12

And in the end, it was decided to go in search of food.13

***14

Brandon waited. He sat outside his little home, and gazed out at the horizon, expecting to see the sun’s familiar glow. But it didn’t come. Clouds that may have once hung in the sky were now absent, accentuating the sun’s absence. No stars graced the sky, and the moon had retreated into the darkness long ago. Perhaps the sun too, was deserting them. 15

By the time the sun decided to grace them with its presence, many had gathered in front of Brandon’s dwelling. Both men and women stood on the thirsting dirt, bringing nothing but sheer determination. Nothing else would save them.16

Families had also assembled on the sidelines, refraining from rubbing their throbbing eyes, due to some respect they had for the intrepid group who were leaving them that morning. Yet they refused to meet the eyes of those who were departing. Between them was a silent agreement. They would not kiss, nor hug, nor make any expression of love, as they would return soon enough to do so. No tearful goodbyes would be said, because such a goodbye would mean forever. To admit such a parting, would be to break their spirits.17

But Brandon had no eyes to avoid and no tearful goodbyes to long for. To escape from such a lowly town was a blessing. There was nothing left for him there, and when the group departed on their journey, there would be nothing left to come back to. Not in such a place.18

His little shack was pitiful at most. It was made from bad quality wood, which had been scavenged from little girls’ dollhouses and mailboxes, when they had been deemed unnecessary. The dwelling was cube-like, and devoid of windows. It looked like some kid’s roughly drawn painting, without the colour. Someone had been kind enough to grant it a little door that led to an even more pitiful existence. 19

Brandon had never bothered with floorboards. Even in the homes that did have flooring of some sort, dirt still managed to find its way in. In the simple home that he had put together for himself, all he had was a few blankets in a corner, and a box that was home to his few material possessions. 20

Under the pile of blankets, Brandon usually buried a makeshift gun that he had made, back when resources were commonplace. Knowing that he would need a way to protect himself, he had purchased a few materials for a hefty sum of money. Of course a handgun or a rifle would have been better, yet the materials used to make such weapons were long gone. His handy little gun was never quite as effective as he would have liked, yet shoving a rock in and firing at another’s head did the trick.21

He stroked the flimsy item that now lay in his left breast pocket, and it comforted him. He could feel, just by briefly touching his chest, how fast his heart was racing. It’s the anticipation, he told himself. You’re just excited. And he was. The smell of change, however subtle, was in the air, and Brandon inhaled it greedily, savouring what he could.22

Maria approached him cautiously. She was a soft-faced woman of around Brandon’s age. She had radiant, golden blonde hair that outshone the sun by far. Her features were delicately formed; her long lashes preceded her beautiful eyes, the colour of which could not be stated. They were a million colours, as one, a million lifetimes, as one. Her pale skin remained unaffected by Brandon as she grew closer.23

“Brandon… do you truly intend to leave? Here we are, waiting.” As she spoke, her questioning eyes gazed at him, unafraid.24

“Of course Maria. In a little while.” Brandon stared back. “I’m waiting for Joe.” And it was true. He waited for the one who had held power for these last few years. He waited so he could see Joe’s face when he lost that power. Life or death, both now lay in Brandon’s hands.25

As if on cue, Joe appeared from around the corner. 26

“Just in time,” Brandon said.27

“No way I would miss your departure, friend,” Joe replied sarcastically. 28

“No way would I depart without you here to see us leave you behind.” Brandon smiled.29

At that, Joe turned to face the growing crowd. He bit back a smile, before striding towards the corner he had sprung from a few moments before. And before his old figure disappeared behind the flimsy homes, he called out, “Have a nice life... fools.”30

Reminded of her own insecurity, Maria approached Brandon. “Are we doing the right thing, Brandon?” She looked up at him.31

Brandon barely heard her words, as he was lost in her eyes. Such a thing is indescribable. “Yes,” He said. Yes, the world is coming to an end. Yes, once we leave this place we are never coming back. Yes.32

He turned away from Maria, embarrassed. His gaze wandered towards Jeremy, a boy a few years younger than he, who was to carry the supplies. They wouldn’t need much. No point bringing protection from the storms, as such things did not exist. Food of course, would be needed, and plenty of it. Who is to say when they will find food, or even if they find it? Brandon had been convinced to bring a few tents as well, for those who actually enjoyed that feeling of confinement. 33

Everyone was, of course, growing impatient by now. Why make them wait any longer? Brandon reached into his pocket, the one that didn’t contain the gun. He withdrew a large metal key that was just about the size of a small hand. It was all for show of course. He had obtained the key a few years ago when more people had thought of leaving the Dome. A passive man named Charles had relinquished the key with a bored yawn around that time, and it had remained with Brandon ever since. It was the key to power, no pun intended. It had come in handy a few times, he noted with a smile.34

He lifted his head up with pride, as if he were leading an ancient Roman Triumph. Every bit as ceremonious as the key itself, he walked towards the wall of the dome. The only door to the outside world was on this side, the main reason Brandon had chosen to live there, and the only reason he kept on going after they left him. 35

The crowd parted before him, and soon enough he was at the door, inserting the key into the keyhole it had pined for so much. He turned it slowly, relishing the sound of clicking instruments inside. Brandon pushed the door, and it swung open, creaking loudly. 36

He stepped outside with care. The sand was soft under his feet. He crouched down, despite the objection of his brittle knees, and picked up a handful of sand. It was a glorious brown and beige hue that slid between his fingers like little grains.37

Others too began to emerge from the captivity of the Dome. Some squealed with delight, and fell onto the sand like little children would have, and made sand-angels. Others simply could not remember, or had even never known what sand felt like. They were wary of each grain of sand, and when they tried to walk, they stumbled. 38

Brandon stood, and turned back to the Dome. He pulled out the key once more, but this time to lock the Dome. He closed that chapter of his life, ended that fairytale that hadn’t had a happy ending.39

“Brandon! Why are you locking the Dome?” Connor asked him. He had been watching Brandon from a distance. His mousy, brown hair was curly beyond reason, enough to distract the viewer from any other features that might have been admirable. But at that moment his confused eyes merited a glance.40

“We are sealing off the Dome, to protect it from intruders, and to prevent any fools from escaping,” Brandon lied.41

“Have them lock it from the inside, and give it to an authority then.” 42

Connor wasn’t as stupid as the rest of them. Clap, clap, and…clap. “I didn’t want to have to tell you this, but I’m sure you realise the dangers of letting them possess the key. They could betray us. They could lock us out.” Brandon met his eyes.43

Embarrassed, Connor looked away, and questioned no more. Brandon sneered scornfully. He returned the key to his waiting pocket before patting it happily.44

Brandon strode past Connor, past all the people still naively rolling in the sand as if they could do it forever. As they saw him pass, they pushed themselves to their feet and silently trudged after him. 45

The youngest of them were already far ahead by now, eager to explore the land that existed to them only in stories. Soon their hopes were to be dashed, as in stories there was grass, rainbows and flowers, but in reality there was only a long brown stretch of desolation that continued as far as the human eye could see.46

Brandon stole another glance at Maria. In the volatile wind, the golden hair that had been so delicately placed around her head was blown back, revealing the delicate contours of her face. Her lips curved into a smile, as she inhaled the freshness of the breeze. Her eyes were focused on the horizon that presented itself ahead. At that moment the rising sun was hidden behind an array of grey clouds, yet sunlight peeked through meekly, as if making a promise. Maria gazed at that sunrise with such intensity, willing the clouds to melt away. And under the gaze of such eyes, how could they not?47