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8 Seconds
I know not with what weapons World War III will be fought, but World War IV will be fought with sticks and stones. – Albert EinsteinWhat could you do in eight seconds? Say I love you to someone you care for? Spit your gum on the side walk and laugh when someone steps in it? Make an arch enemy? These are simple tasks. Eight seconds is a few blinks and nothing more but to some, it is a life time. It’s a series of moments that show your very existence, your humanity, or even prove your ignorance. Welcome to the longest eight seconds of my life. The world around me is simple. Its 2012, graduation day. I stare at my reflection in the gas mask in front of me and notice the sick, pale, and panicked face that stares back. The still damp air around me allows for a stale ragged breath. I turn, my chucks roughly silent on the concrete floor of the useless bomb shelter that has become my life. The radio static is the only sound that doesn’t depress the people down here. The towns people around me scattered throughout the vast area sit solemnly with their families, dread evident on their tired faces. The worst part is not knowing how long we have. At any moment it could happen. World War three could begin and end immediately. Though not everyone will perish, many shall, leaving no will to fight. Every trigger happy finger pressed on two buttons, the national warning system and the one that fires back. We cower underground in fear with hope. But truth be told our coffin will not block the radiation, starvation, violence, disease, or insanity that will spark after the explosion. We’ll be forced into slow, agonizing deaths. But up there, above ground, eight seconds would be all. The clock strikes noon, and our mayor stands. Her face drained of emotion. “Volunteer?” My hand quickly shoots up. My mother sobs in my father’s shoulder. My friends hide their faces in fear. The mayors shaky voice replies, “Thank you.” The sound of the hatch opening echoes through the shelter. I climb to the top passing layers of concrete and titanium. The doors open and I step on to the abandoned land. I scan and yell into the microphone, searching for anyone left behind. I step 20 feet before it happens. Second One: The alarm sounds; nothing enters my mind but the annoying screech of death. Second Two: Fear hits when the hatch locks behind me. Second Three: I run fear pushing me. Second Four: Thoughts of how safe the titanium and the concrete really are shatters my earlier illusion. My only chance of survival…gone. Second Five: My mother and fathers faces, realizing I’m not returning. Second Six: My hearts racing and my face fills with tears as I hammer my fists against the door and scream at the empty world surrounding. Second Seven: I breathe in. Second Eight:
