The Life And Death Of Jeremiah Ward

"Jeremiah August Ward passed away on September 7th, 2022 but, his name is of little consequence. He will not be missed or remembered. His body is but a trivial thing and, it is not to be looked for. He died in the only place that he ever felt comfortable. He was preceded in death by his parents George and Cynthia Ward. He leaves all of his belonging to Bob Fredrick Jensen, the only person who could half stand him."

Jeremiah paused as he wrote his obituary. What else was there to say? His life had not held any particular mark of greatness or meaning. He could count his friends on a few fingers, and that was on a good day. It could not be denied that he wasn't the easiest person to get along with, thus never getting married. He preferred animals over humans but was mostly content being alone.

Jeremiah looked around the dying and dilapidated shack he had lived in for the last 35 years. Mason jars of coins littered the mostly barren shelves in the kitchen. He had no life savings or anything of particular value. Jeremiah signed and dated his life testament for the current day, September 7th, 2022. He placed it on the cracking wooden table with the deed to the property. He took one last look around the shack and silently reflected on the memories surrounding it.

The fact was, Jeremiah had become disgusted with the world in which he inhabited. The world had become more evil than good. People relished in their attempt towards power, no matter the cost. Abuse was commonplace instead of the exception. War was plentiful and peace a never reaching mirage. Love was a mask, dependent on lust and monetary status. Jeremiah had enough with the world and its slow cancerous death. The morals he had been taught at a young age started to bury themselves in the catacombs of his own heart. He knew it was time to let go of the toxic world in which he no longer had a place. Today was not only the day of his death but, it was also the day of his rebirth.

Jeremiah stepped over rotting "No Trespassing" signs that young delinquents dared each other to tear down some time ago. Whispers and rumors of the crazed old man on the cliff had made their way into the neighboring town but, few had the spine to venture on his property. He carefully made his way down the cliff towards the rickety dock. The boat itself was modest in size and appeared cushioned asleep upon a velvety sea. It had living quarters below and many nooks and crannies to store supplies. Jeremiah had been preparing this venture for months; even installing solar panels and, a water filtration system. He planned to catch most of his food. He also stocked seeds to grow food above deck and goods with a long shelf life. He planned to sail off into the abyss, and never look back on the world he left behind. He would spend the rest of his days at sea; however long or few they may be.

He sailed away until he saw nothing but ocean in all directions, and then he kept sailing. He spotted a faint emerald green light in the distance. It seemed to both guide and anchor him. The light became brighter and brighter until in a flash it disappeared. Jeremiah brushed the mysterious light off as a mirage; a mere trick of the mind from staring at the horizon too long.

Jeremiah caught so much seafood he could not eat or store all of it. He reluctantly threw back hundreds of pounds of fresh fish that a 5-star restaurant could have sold for a fortune. He grew a bountiful harvest of vegetables in potting soil. He swam and bathed in the sea. He read classic literature and napped under the shade of his sails. He had no radio or television, no contact with the outside world. He had no clocks or calendars. It was complete bliss, a heavenly oasis he had created for himself. Days turned into weeks, weeks to months, and months to years. Time was non-existent and of no matter to keep track of. His skin began to look more and more vibrant, almost as if he was turning younger, not older.

Jeremiah awoke one day to complete darkness. Confused, he thought it was the middle of the night so he went back to sleep. When he awoke again the sky had not changed. It was not the darkness of a lurking storm nearby. Instead, it was all-encompassing darkness, a darkness that swallowed you whole and let you lay in the belly of the universe. There were no stars or moon to guide him. The heavens had completely disappeared above as if even the creator turned their back on the world. The solar power was slowly dimming from the loss of sunlight until it went out completely. Jeremiah was adrift in the pitch black. It was a very eery feeling. What could be minutes felt like centuries? He lay there, questioning his existence. "Am I dead?" he thought...

Jeremiah went along in the darkness for some time. A horrid stench slowly drifted into his nostrils, almost like the earth was rotting from the inside out. He was running out of any shelf item food he had left. The little water he allotted was putrid and hard to swallow. He was losing any hope he had left that the sun and moon would magically reappear. He was losing his will to go on.

Jeremiah suddenly remembered the stash of candles he had packed but, never used. He stumbled around the lower deck blindly grasping at the items below. He finally grasped upon a candle and match. Shaking from lack of nutrients he struggled to light it but, finally managed to. The candle burnt into his eyes like staring straight at the sun. His vision had become blurred from lack of light. He carefully made his way above deck to try and see if he could make anything out. Nothing in the distance. He crept down to the edge of the boat to try to look at the water. He gasped, in shock and dismay. The water was a dark crimson. It had turned to thick and clotting blood. The stench he was smelling was that of rotting flesh. He could not tell if the decomposing meat was animal or human. His legs buckled and, he passed out from both shock and horror.

A bone-chilling scream abruptly awoke him. He shot himself up and saw a familiar emerald green light in the distance. He had no idea how long he had been out for. The creature continued to screech as if they were dying. Then, a muffled cry turned to silence. The light became brighter and brighter until like it had before, it vanished in the blink of an eye. He drifted for an unknown amount of time. It could have been minutes, but it felt like an eternity. He began to make out shadows of a town in the distance. It was an oddly familiar sight but, he could not place the distorted image. It was like looking through a funhouse mirror and not recognizing yourself. Then, he began to make out a shadow of a cliff and the remnants of an old dock. It suddenly hit him that this was no ordinary town. He had somehow made his way home...

Jeremiah drifted towards land and the boat gently crashed against the rocks. He got out and made his way towards the remnants of the dock. The toxic fog was so thick it choked him. He carefully ventured his way up the rotted staircase, stepping his way over the broken boards. He made it to the top of the cliff and feasted his eyes on the shack he left behind. It was even more dilapidated than he had remembered. A small light could be seen through the kitchen window. He knocked 3 times on the front door.

The door flew open and he was greeted with a shotgun to his head. "Get the hell off my property!," a deep and raspy voice growled at him. He peeked behind the barrel and saw the outline of two familiar-looking eyes.

"Bob?" Jeremiah asked incredulously.

The man slowly lowered the gun. "Jeremiah,... Can it truly be you,?" he asked doubtfully. "I haven't seen you in forty years!... but, you don't look like you have changed. In fact,... you look younger than I remember," he stated in confusion. The two studied each other in the dim light for a moment.

Bob was decerped and aged. His face was mangled and scarred. Rotting flesh could be seen peeking out of his flannel shirt. The hair that he had left looked like it was the last that had been spared in a fire. His scalp bore deep burn marks. This was not the friend he had left behind. This was a distorted shadow of the person he once knew.

"What happened to you,?" Jeremiah asked in uncontained horror.

The two old friends sat together at the kitchen table and Bob recounted an unbelievable tale. "You were right all along Jeremiah to not trust the government. It turns out they were putting chemicals in our products to slowly kill us off, had been for years. He pointed at his scalp, "This was from a shampoo I used. It was advertised to help stimulate hair grown but, instead, it burnt my scalp damn near down to my skull." He painfully outstretched a rotting skeletal arm, "This was from a lotion they advertised at a good price." He opened his mouth and displayed a rotting hole. "Not sure what this is from.? Could have been that well-done steak you always gave me grief about," Bob jokingly chuckled.

Jeremiah spewed a vomit of questions. "What happened to the sky? Where are the sun and moon? Where are the stars?... How have you survived!?" Jeremiah shook his head trying to awaken from an imagined nightmare. Yet, he did not wake. He was still there amongst the candlelight.

"The sky disappeared some time ago. I planted the seeds you left behind and they have gotten me through, for the most part, he coughed. I have to keep them hidden. We are only supposed to buy the government's products. If they find out that I have them I will be executed. Humans have become mere minions Jeremiah, slaves to the society you warned me about. I was smart you see...I didn't get the chip in me. I refused their mark. I got out before the total control," Bob ended in a secretive whisper.

Jeremiah attempted to digest the information he was being told. It sat like a tennis ball he was attempting to swallow. A thought suddenly occurred to him. "What is the date, Bob?"

"As far as I've been able to track it is September 7th, 2022," Bob stated... A soft green glow flickered somewhere in the distance, waiting for the next lost soul to devour.