The thick gas encompassed air filled her lungs and as she coughed, the universe seemed to be laughing at her pain. Each gust of wind giggled at her sickness and teased her for sneezing. The war had seemed to age her ten years, wrinkles telling the tragic tale of her regretful life and each wrinkle beside her frown showed the dreams she had hoped to come true that had been destroyed. The blue skin of her race, ailing with disease, continued to be broken down by the harsh chemicals that filled what used to be the best planet in the entire universe. It had turned men’s’ fingernails green and women’s’ fingernails pink, with its awful effects on both the exterior and interior of people. What had happened to poor Abeo? Abeo had been the only planet to give the world life and abruptly, like a patient in the hospital, it was dying right before their eyes. Living in a world with so much devastation, so many calamities injured her very soul as if it was beat to a pulp with a baseball bat. Battered and worn from the harsh conditions of the political situation, it was clear humanity could not take much more of these circumstances.
“Sweetheart, are you ready for the acidic bath?” her husband asked her; the concern in his voice was as crystal clear as a wine glass. Anxiety sat, unwanted and unclaimed, in the nitrogen filled atmosphere.
“Sure.” The response was short and quick, like she was somewhere else in the universe eager for a more exciting life. The tenseness flew in through the humid, hot outside world into the window seeping into the lives of the couple. It lingered on their clothing, in each word they spoke, and each silent sentence that showed their sheer unhappiness with the situation.
As their royal blue bodies walked towards the shower, their steps enhanced the terrible feeing in the room. It followed them like a hushed stalker, hidden behind the scenes but still persistently sitting with them, soundless and lethal. Their figures moved slowly towards the room and all the while the man felt his wife slipping between his fingers. They had been married fourteen years, ever since the country Atrox had sent its horrific nuclear bombs, making him and his wife the only couple, he knew of that survived the adversity she had distanced herself. It was as if her soul was running away, but her body was staying in place.
The chunky acids flowed down their aching limbs, attempting to stifle their tenderness but instead made them feel even poorer. The illness caused by the nuclear weapons had shattered the rest of the human race and had tainted those who survived the initial blow. The man scratched the back of his colorful, bald head and stood in a shower next to the one his wife was in and slowly morphed the feelings of sadness from his brain into contentment. At least, we have each other, right? He thought to himself.
Their feet moved out of their showers, their bodies as clean as they would ever be and they walked like corpses through a graveyard. They searched their minds for the absent puzzle piece that would grant them tranquility, and failing to find it, they remained in a living hell.
“Honey, do you fell better now, Lucy?” he asked, thoughtfully trying to brighten the mood.
“Of course.” She didn’t even take the effort to add sweetheart at the end of her curt answer. He wanted a marriage counselor, but they were the only two people left on their planet so how was he to obtain such a person? Their tight faces portrayed no signs of their true stance of unhappiness; the stiffness of their rigid skin was like their marriage. It was thin, leaning on the cracks of society’s mistakes and barely supporting the people involved with it.
She smiled at his distraught memory, a smile that tormented him and stomped on his heart. The pieces that had once been their love were wrecked, like cracked glass they fell to the ground fast and crushing even more. Then, her smile faded and her face reddened as his hands tightened around her neck, the green fingernails stealing the life right out of her body. Finally, peace was granted and he fell into a mesmerizing deep sleep.
***********************
A thousand eyes peered over his washed out, weathered face. A sheer, brilliant white light shone over his head beating down on it; the eyes continued to study his every move as his body awoke from the genuine sleep it had so enjoyed. The feeling of being refreshed washed over him; it felt as if he had been asleep for a thousand years. Revitalized and renewed he lifted his arms, as the eyes seemed to create a whole in his thoughts, continually staring down on him. Then a voice awakened him.
“How are you feeling?” asked the voice of, who he believed to be, an angel.
“Lucy, how are you there?” he questioned the voice. “I don’t remember anything from last night, just remind me what happened?”
“I’m not Lucy.” The voice seemed confused. As he peered up, he realized he was in a science laboratory. His entire world flipped inside out as the memories of yesterday flooded through his mind and he ached at the realization. The voice paused and continued, “Lucy is dead. You were in an experiment, we were testing what would happened to the human mind when it realized that it was one of the two remaining on the planet Earth.” The smack of reality hit him like a bullet, quickly and soon the hurting settled in as he found his wife was gone. The one who he loved was dead, all because he had become the victim of his own trap.
“What are you talking about?” his confusion flew into the suddenly, very small room like he was the only one who didn’t know the secret. He was the child left out of the secret during lunchtime because the soft whispers were about him.
“You were in an experiment conducted by scientists of the United States of America,” her simple blue eyes stared deep into his brown ones. “Your wife didn’t know where you had disappeared because you were not allowed to tell anyone where you were. Out of desperation, she committed suicide. We are very sorry for your loss, but the information this investigation found is providing the human race with the key to our future as living creatures. You have done your nation a great favor and we thank you for your service.” Her tone changed, she wanted to leave that room more than anything and as if she thought she could by closing her eyes she tried. Her eyelashes wet with tears for empathizing with his poor soul, but she remained there; there stood the tormentor to his sorrows, the one to tell Romeo his poor Juliet was dead, the devil who spoke the truth.