Finding Hope

I used to love the smell of the air after it rained. Though the smell was hard to describe, it reminded me of lying in the middle of a meadow; every smell its strongest, every animal its loudest, and the sun shining its brightest. It tickled my mother at times that I would describe a smell as beautiful but there was no other word for it. It saddened me to witness that all that beauty, everything that once was, was now gone.

It came out of nowhere, and it came quickly and quietly. First, it infected the humans. Once infected, a person only had days to live. The only thing that was left behind was an empty shell. Next, the animals. Their reaction to the virus was different. They were starving no matter how much they ate. So, they started turning on each other and humans for food .

Last was plant life. The trees that once stood strong and tall had withered and died. The plants that grew from the grown no longer grew. The world was no longer the bright and beautiful place that it once was. Now, there was nothing more than death and disease.

In the beginning, the scientists, governments, military, and private companies had worked non-stop to find a cure but in the end, none had succeeded. Eventually, the virus took them along with the hope that all could be fixed.

In a situation, like we were in the beginning, the only thing that we could do was wait and hope. My mother had once told me that without hope, there was no reason to live. I used to have hope myself especially in the beginning. The things that I saw people do and the things that I had to do, all that hope that once flowed through me left until there was nothing left but the need to survive. Even then, there were days when surviving was the last thing I wanted.

It had rained again last night. It rained hard and long, and the patches that used to be grass showed that. If I took a snapshot of the piece of wood that once was a tree, I could trick myself into believing that it was four years ago and I was at home staring at the strong and tall tree that once stood in my backyard. The snapshot shattered quickly, and I found myself sucked back into reality.

The pain of walking for more than 10 hours with only 5 10-minute rests was taking a toll on my body. Our group - my father, mother, sister, brother-in-law, and myself - had left the city of Columbus more than 12 months ago after we realized there was nothing left for us. We had no idea where we were going, but we knew we couldn't stay there. My father told us that we had to survive, so that's what we were doing. For what? I had no idea.

A sharp whistle sounded and we all turned to my father. He was a large man that stood 6 feet 2 inches with dark brown skin, and a salt and pepper beard that was now reaching to his chest. Leader of our small group, he used to be a Fire Chief. Now, he was just another survivor with tired eyes.

He held up 10 fingers indicating that it was time for our 10-minute break. We only took breaks when my father deemed it was safe for us to be in a certain area for a short period of time. This was one of those times.

A sigh of relief came from Hailee, my older sister by 4 years. Her husband, Darren, placed his hand on the small of her back and helped her over to a bench that looked as if it was on its hinges. I watched with a small smile as she sat down, and threw her head back in delight with her hand on her stomach; the current home of my growing niece or nephew.

It was stupid of her to get pregnant during a time like this and I didn't hesitate to tell her as much, but she had already felt bad enough and she told me as much also. In the end, I couldn't do anything but accept it like everything else the world handed out.

I stood and took in everything that was around me. I had no idea what state or city we were in now, but I could see that we were in what used to be a park. Like the rest of the world, there were no more trees or green grass. There were, however, brown patches and concrete that were beginning to break down. Hailee and Darren occupied the only bench within sight. The only thing that showed this area used to be a park were pieces of a slide on the ground, and a carousel that was now rusted and showed no remains of color. I had no idea why but I found myself drawn to it, and made my way over.

The metal creaked as I stepped onto it and I grasped a pole to make sure that I didn't fall. I could almost hear the children laughing in delight as the carousel went around. I could almost see the parents smiling as they held them up to make sure they didn't fall. If I closed my eyes and listened, I'm almost certain I could hear the music of the carousel playing. Almost.

I found myself wondering how long it's been since someone had been in the same spot I found myself in right now. Did they stand here not too long ago contemplating the same thing that I found myself contemplating? Did they have no hope like me? Was living every day a struggle to that person like it was to me?

Before I could think of more questions to ask no one in particular, something in the corner of my head caught my attention. I couldn't see what it was from my view but I could see something was there. Letting go of the pole, I carefully walked behind the horse and saw that it was a book of some kind. When I picked it up, I realized that it wasn't a book at all. It was a diary.

It was a leather, the color of a faded purple, and wrapped in its sting. On the top, I could see that the pages between the leather were nearly yellow with age. I un-wrapped the string that held it together and opened the cover. My mouth went dry when I saw the page was filled with small neat strokes. I slowly started flipping through the rest of the pages to see if they were filled with the handwriting too; they were. It was the last page that made my heart skip a beat though.

Lying there in the binding of the diary was a golden chain, and at the end of that chain was a heart-shaped locket. I swallowed the knot that formed in my throat and picked up the locket. Getting a closer look, I saw small red stones that outlined the heart. If I turn it a certain way, the sunlight would catch the stones and they would shine.

Why would anyone leave this locket in a diary, and then leave the diary for anyone to take? Did someone leave it by accident or on purpose? Were they forced to leave it? I had so many questions, no answers, and was holding the one thing that could give them to me. So, I decided to do the only thing that seemed logical at the time and read the diary.

Locket in hand, I sat down on the edge of the carousel and flipped all the way back to the last entry. I have always been the type of person that read the back of the book to see how it ends and decide from that if I wanted to read it or not. It irritated my mother, who used to be a teacher, to no end. She used to tell me there was no way I could really know a book by just reading the end. Did she know though?

I placed the diary in the middle of my lap, and began to read,

April 13, 2031

I could hear Mom crying again last night. She thought I couldn't hear her, but I could. I found myself wanting to cry but then I realized it wouldn't make a difference. I would still be in the same situation I was in.

So, I decided to come to my favorite place in the world. If you found this on the carousel, then you are currently sitting in my favorite place in the world. Before the virus, I would come here when I was sad, mad, or just needed some alone time. I'm all three of those things right now.

If you're like me, then you came across times when everything seemed bleak, and like there was no end in sight. I tend to find the good in dark times. Before the virus, the only thing my father did was work and when my parents were together, the only thing they did was argue. Now, even when their stomachs are hurting with hunger, they find comfort and happiness with each other. It's a sight I never thought I would see.

My older sister, Cassie, was never home. She was always with her friends and when she got home, she would lock herself in her room. There were times when days go by, and I didn't see her. Now, here she was as my best friend, telling me to imagine that this old carousel worked and that the music that she always hated was playing. I'm going to miss her the most.

So, please, if you find yourself in dark times and feel as if there is no end in sight, know that there is. Have hope that this will all end one day, and there will be nothing left but good. I had hope that I would be around for it but I won't. So, I want you to hope for the both of us because like my mother always told me, 'Hope is the most powerful thing in the world'. So, hold onto it and never let it go.

She died. I didn't know her name or what she even looked like, but I knew part of her story and I knew she was dead. Like the many others that came before her, the virus took hold of her and didn't let go. Instead of drowning in her pain and ultimate death, she wrote down her story and left it for someone else to find. For me to find.

I couldn't help but notice the comparisons that were between me and her. She sounded as if she was my age, and like mine, her mother believed heavily in hope. Unlike me, she did too. Until the very end, she had hope and she believed and now she was asking me to believe in it again. Could I do that?

I looked at the locket once more before I undid the clasp, and wrapped it around my neck. Once secured, I looked down at it, wrapping my hand around the locket. I smiled as I felt tears fall from my eyes. I could do it, I realized, for both of us.

“Hope?"

I looked up at my sister, who stood with the rest of my family looking over at me.

"It's time for us to go," she informed me.

I nodded and quickly wiped the tears from my face. Closing the diary, I stepped off the carousel and walked over to them.

My mother smiled at me as I stepped into her open arm. "Where'd you get that?” She asked me pointing to the locket.

"I found it."