It was supposed to be about cleaning up the environment; about helping people and showing them that they weren't alone. About ending so much starvation. About creating better things for bettering. But then it fell apart. Maybe you all shouldn't have started with such a big goal - "Our eyes are bigger than our hearts, heads, hands." Maybe then it wouldn't have gone from labors of love to lip service. You joined because you wanted to feel like you belonged somewhere, like you weren't so alone; you figure that's how Hitler started his army, too.
There was this big poster at the register office, saying how the ultimate goal was World Peace. The idea always seems so beautiful. You never think how there's never peace in the world, or how it's not just a human thing. You go outside, and you could see cats fighting in the yard. It’s an Animal thing. You fight because it's in your blood, because it’s Animalistic, and you’re all animals. Sure, you'd like to cut down on the violence and blood shed, but now you know it won't ever go away.
The Army, though, it was so horribly wrong. They were supposed to help, be a relief force. They weren’t meant to kill everyone who didn't agree. They were so technologically advanced, though, they barely had any trouble. With the bodies posed where they had fallen, the Army would lay a white flag with a heart imprinted on it over the chest of every bloodied corpse. Now their mission was to control everyone. You had nightmares about their stupid love songs and awful flags and all the blood you could see soaking into the dirt.
You remember hearing stories about the Crusades and Joan of Arc. You remember in the beginning, how all your favorite bands played concerts to raise funds to help you. You remember authors like David Levithan, Francesca Lia Block, and Art Spieglman would come out and talk, with everyone gathered around them. There were talks about peace movements from the past, and t-shirts passed out on street corners promoting the right to Speak Up and Do Something. It was all to set the mood for something that was never supposed to be what it became.
Tonight though, you can feel it in your bones. Most of the world is laying in destruction, and this theory has been pouring from everyone's lips. It’s like a sudden sixth sense, like cats and tornadoes. It’s like the whole of humanity can feel the end now, weighing down on them. You’re sure the people in the Army feel it, too. Even though they've been denying it with vehemence, you know that they aren't left out of this sudden transformation. They feel it; they know it; they're the honest to god cause of it. But, still. They deny it, and they'll let it happen. Maybe, they could stop it, if they can even stop at all. But their so drunk with their control, no one within their ranks will even consider it.
Tonight, or today, really, because it'll be day soon, with dawn hovering just on the horizon, you know something big will happen. You’re huddled under a blanket on your ratty couch in your tiny sixth floor apartment, with your cat curled against your side. Your TV is directly in front of you, playing footage of the War, the Massacre {which is what it is, despite what the Officers say}. Every news show, people are talking live. It’s like the whole world is afraid to go to sleep, afraid they won't wake up, and determined to see what happens. There are windows on either side of your TV, and you've taken off the curtains and blinds. The city- your home- is stretched in front of you. You can feel it holding its breath; you can feel every person's eyes on the clock. On the newspaper next to you, there's the estimated time of Sunrise, Six-Forty a.m. You watch the neon numbers of your clock change.
Your cat is purring loudly, and you're counting her breaths in and out as the green changes from six-thirty-nine to six-forty. As soon as it changes, your bones start thrumming. The people on your television, their voices sound like music, and everywhere you look, there's a faint glow of color to everything. Suddenly, the sound of your TV get's louder, and you look up; they're saying Something's happening. Something is Happening. You change your view to outside your windows, and there's no sun in the sky. You know the sun won't be coming up just like you know this is some kind of End. At least you're not alone.
You watch the sky take on a red purple tinge, but it's not from the sun or any kind of rising. There’s something in the sky causing the colors. Something coming towards you, towards Earth. Your cat moves closer to you as the knowledge hits you. They’re angels. They’re floating angels, the kind you read about. You watch as these things move closer, seemingly growing in numbers. They don't stop over you, though. They don't stop over the city, but fly past you. Footage of the creatures from below flashes onto your television screen for a moment, before turning into static. It’s not until the reporter returns to the screen that the static clears.
You listen all day as information is fed through thin black wires, into the ears of the reporters. They talk of the 'beings' and what they are. There seems to be a consensus that they're some type of merci, yesha, angel. The sun never comes up, but the stars and moon are gone. The sky is still a swirl of red and purple, and the lights of the city never go out.
Then you hear news of what the angels are doing. You hear that they're all congregated over the Army, that the sky is a violent, rolling red nearby. You hear that the ground is burning, that the angels are screaming. You hear that they're yelling what these people have done. They’re yelling that the Army knows nothing of Love. You hear that they're ripping the Army apart, biting into their skin, tearing their flags and choking the Army with them. There’s no footage of it, but you know it’s happening.
Outside, the sky loses its tinge of red, turning to a deep purple. All the noise from your TV is suddenly cut off; all the noises everywhere seem to be gone, like someone muted the world with a giant volume control. You move to your window, looking out. Everything looks brighter and cleaner; healthier. You watch the sky grow to a blinding, golden light, and the floor drops out from under you. The last thing you register is the heat, so big that it feels like there's fire running through your veins.
There will be no great judging. You will not stand before an almighty being, reviewing your sins. You will not be punished as a whole race. You will not be anything, because you will stop existing completely. After the light and the heat, once the humans are gone, the angles will wipe out every trace of your existence.
The paved roads, sky scrapers, and monuments will all vanish. Mount Rushmore will be returned to the state it was in before faces of men were carved into the stone. The broken ships lying at the bottom of the ocean will be gone. The air will be clean; the trees, the water, the whole environment will be remade without the pollution from cars and oil spills. The species on the verge of dying will be able to replenish their numbers.The Earth will get a second chance, with its biggest problem starters taken out of the equation.
© Copyright 2007 Abby Almon
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