Untitled Work - Chapter 1 [Story]
Title: Untitled -- Chapter 1: August 17, 2013 (Journal of Giuseppe)
Author: Me, freakanature88
Characters: Giuseppe
Rating: PG for apocalyptic themes
Warnings: End of the world, mass death, and strange new settings
Summary: On December 20, 2012, the world ended with the spread of a toxin. However, not even the end of the world is truly the end of the world. Join the survivors of this disaster on their journey to discover the truth behind what happened and why they are still alive.
Notes: I've... just wanted to write an apocalyptic piece for a very long time. Like, since tenth grade, actually. XD So... I'm finally having a crack at it. *coughs* Let's see if this works... at all...
August 17, 2013
At least, I’m pretty sure that’s today’s date. I’ve tried very hard to keep track on a calendar I found soon after the Fall, but sometimes the days get away from me. But either way, if my reckoning is correct, it’s been almost a year since the world ended. Metaphorically speaking, I guess, since I’m still here, and obviously the world’s still here or I wouldn’t be.
Anyway… it was a huge relief to me to find this mostly intact, completely unused notebook. For a long while now, I’ve wanted to keep track of my thoughts, and now it should be made easier. When things happen so quickly, it becomes very hard to remember who you are - or rather, who you were.
Before the Fall, I have no memory. No one does. But almost everyone remember some small detail about themselves at least. I think a case of mass amnesia hit the world with the spread of the toxin that killed most of the population in one fell swoop. I’m not sure what caused the immunity that saved so many lives, but I’m glad that it existed, otherwise our mother Terra would be completely uninhabited.
Some people remember their names. They’re the lucky ones. Personally, I remember owning a villa in a city known as Sicily in what was once Italy (according to the books I’ve managed to read). The human mind is a strange thing. I think that most people remember something that was important to them - that they identified with. I once met a man who could remember nothing but the face of a woman he had loved - the last I saw him, he was still searching for her. Part of me hopes that he finds her one day and she can remember nothing but him as well.
Realistically, I know the chances that she even survived are slim.
By sheer fate, I seem to be someone that has the blessing of re-learning quickly. Most things I read seem familiar, whereas they are perfectly foreign to others, and I keep having dreams of things I can never quite remember when I wake up.
Maybe the toxin didn’t fry my brain as much as it did others. I wonder why that would be.
Let’s see… I’m trying to decide what exactly are the most vital pieces of information to divulge immediately. There is so much that has happened, and so much that could happen, that it’s difficult to remember what is actually important.
Ah, yes! The vast majority of those left in the world have congregated in one place. It’s warm here, along the equator, which I suppose will keep us safe when winter comes. As far as I can tell from the maps I’ve studied, we’re near what was once known as ‘Egypt’, but we simply call it ‘home’ now. Naming things is a habit that human beings have fallen out of - except for the few children who have been born and ourselves, we haven’t named anything. All names I use are simply taken from texts of various languages.
Oh, and of course, I can’t forget to mention the bizarre phenomena that revolves around those who survived contact with the toxin - we now seem able to understand each other perfectly. As if the Tower of Babel never separated the world by language at all. I have been able to read any text that I lay hands on, and identify the languages as something different, but every one has been easy to read and comprehend (once I was able to figure out what exactly was being talked about, of course), and many of the settlers here speak various languages, but there is never a misunderstanding between the languages. It’s very bizarre.
… drat. I’m being called away. I have been appointed as a sort of medicine man for the people here. One of only a few that really understand how to treat common ailments. I will try very hard to write in here as much as possible. Perhaps by doing so, I will be able to uncover the truth behind my own past - and maybe even the past of the world.
Until then,
Giuseppe
Author: Me, freakanature88
Characters: Giuseppe
Rating: PG for apocalyptic themes
Warnings: End of the world, mass death, and strange new settings
Summary: On December 20, 2012, the world ended with the spread of a toxin. However, not even the end of the world is truly the end of the world. Join the survivors of this disaster on their journey to discover the truth behind what happened and why they are still alive.
Notes: I've... just wanted to write an apocalyptic piece for a very long time. Like, since tenth grade, actually. XD So... I'm finally having a crack at it. *coughs* Let's see if this works... at all...
August 17, 2013
At least, I’m pretty sure that’s today’s date. I’ve tried very hard to keep track on a calendar I found soon after the Fall, but sometimes the days get away from me. But either way, if my reckoning is correct, it’s been almost a year since the world ended. Metaphorically speaking, I guess, since I’m still here, and obviously the world’s still here or I wouldn’t be.
Anyway… it was a huge relief to me to find this mostly intact, completely unused notebook. For a long while now, I’ve wanted to keep track of my thoughts, and now it should be made easier. When things happen so quickly, it becomes very hard to remember who you are - or rather, who you were.
Before the Fall, I have no memory. No one does. But almost everyone remember some small detail about themselves at least. I think a case of mass amnesia hit the world with the spread of the toxin that killed most of the population in one fell swoop. I’m not sure what caused the immunity that saved so many lives, but I’m glad that it existed, otherwise our mother Terra would be completely uninhabited.
Some people remember their names. They’re the lucky ones. Personally, I remember owning a villa in a city known as Sicily in what was once Italy (according to the books I’ve managed to read). The human mind is a strange thing. I think that most people remember something that was important to them - that they identified with. I once met a man who could remember nothing but the face of a woman he had loved - the last I saw him, he was still searching for her. Part of me hopes that he finds her one day and she can remember nothing but him as well.
Realistically, I know the chances that she even survived are slim.
By sheer fate, I seem to be someone that has the blessing of re-learning quickly. Most things I read seem familiar, whereas they are perfectly foreign to others, and I keep having dreams of things I can never quite remember when I wake up.
Maybe the toxin didn’t fry my brain as much as it did others. I wonder why that would be.
Let’s see… I’m trying to decide what exactly are the most vital pieces of information to divulge immediately. There is so much that has happened, and so much that could happen, that it’s difficult to remember what is actually important.
Ah, yes! The vast majority of those left in the world have congregated in one place. It’s warm here, along the equator, which I suppose will keep us safe when winter comes. As far as I can tell from the maps I’ve studied, we’re near what was once known as ‘Egypt’, but we simply call it ‘home’ now. Naming things is a habit that human beings have fallen out of - except for the few children who have been born and ourselves, we haven’t named anything. All names I use are simply taken from texts of various languages.
Oh, and of course, I can’t forget to mention the bizarre phenomena that revolves around those who survived contact with the toxin - we now seem able to understand each other perfectly. As if the Tower of Babel never separated the world by language at all. I have been able to read any text that I lay hands on, and identify the languages as something different, but every one has been easy to read and comprehend (once I was able to figure out what exactly was being talked about, of course), and many of the settlers here speak various languages, but there is never a misunderstanding between the languages. It’s very bizarre.
… drat. I’m being called away. I have been appointed as a sort of medicine man for the people here. One of only a few that really understand how to treat common ailments. I will try very hard to write in here as much as possible. Perhaps by doing so, I will be able to uncover the truth behind my own past - and maybe even the past of the world.
Until then,
Giuseppe