Supernatural Fiction posted January 4, 2019

Not yet exceptional. When the exceptional rating is reached this is highlighted
Perhaps, it was the plan all along...

Dreamscape Found

by Y. M. Roger

Jackson loved this park bench in the courtyard. The fresh air was always a welcome reprieve from the Children’s Cancer Research Center where he spent every waking hour volunteering.
Little Savannah ran by, laughing, a huge bubble wand in hand.
Suddenly, far off near the horizon, a bluish-green glow began to creep slowly across the sky toward him. Focusing better, Jackson saw a white-hot wave traveling across the land, keeping time with the glow.
He stood as he realized what it was he was seeing: the final solar wave. All the times humanity had been assured the problem was solved – it had been lies.
Jackson dropped back down onto the bench only to discover he wasn’t alone.
The man had ebony skin, blonde hair, and a slant to his eyes. He must be Savannah’s father. They both watched as the glow and the wave inched ever closer. Jackson didn’t hear the destruction of the buildings he was watching implode and be consumed. He didn’t hear the screams that he knew should be filling the air. All he heard was the laughter of children.
Jackson turned to the man in confusion. He smiled warmly, indicating that Jackson should watch what was happening. But, as Savannah ran back across their field of view, the apocalyptic vision became blurred in her trailing bubble path.
Savannah! Someone should hold her! He stood to grab her, but the white-hot glow enveloped him-
Jackson bolted upright in his bed, screaming himself awake.
It had been the same vivid dream for two weeks – ever since he’d held little Savannah during her liquid immersion therapy. Everyone knew it was a suicidal decision, but sweet Savannah had been inconsolable and even violent for anyone but him. And she needed the treatment.
Jackson threw his covers off and walked to stand in front of the room’s only window. He stared, thinking of her complete look of trust as he’d held her to him, knowing full well that his presence with her would shorten his own life by an unknown number of years. He leaned his forehead against the glass, sighing in the resignation that he would probably have never seen those years anyway.
When the solar waves had started, scientists didn’t know why the sun had become unstable. No one had foreseen the destructive waves of solar radiation that began rolling unpredictably over Earth. NASA had launched probes; Russia had launched counter-measures; all to no avail.
Until, just as suddenly as they had started, the waves had stopped. NASA, Russia, and even the Chinese Space Agency had all claimed credit for the cessation.
The survivors didn’t care. All they wanted was to treat the cancers and malformations and just survive.
That was two years ago.
Jackson pulled on his sweats, avoiding the patches of dead skin that had begun appearing. He was pretty sure no one on Earth would be left in the end.
Making his way out to his favorite bench, he realized the playground was empty. As he let his head fall back, he heard a child’s laughter. Raising his head, he saw a little girl – it was Savannah – running toward him holding a bucket with water sloshing out as she ran.
As she pulled a large bubble wand from the bucket and began running with it, Jackson was overcome with the familiarity of it all.
He raised both hands to his face just as the sound of children’s laughter filled the courtyard. Scrubbing his hands across his face, he shook his head and opened his eyes. There, standing in front of him, the curious dark-skinned, blonde-haired man with his hand held out to Jackson in invitation.
Jackson leaned to the side to look around him. Sure enough, the horizon had begun to consume everything in its path. Jackson reached out and grasped the hand.
Suddenly, Savannah ran from behind the man. This time, the bubble trail did not blur the destruction – it opened a portal, of sorts.  Just inside, laughing and calling to him, every child he’d ever helped at the Center. No more burns or malformations – just happy, normal children.
Jackson smiled. They walked into the portal just as the wave would have consumed them.


Sunday, Monday, Doomsday... writing prompt entry
Writing Prompt
Write a flash fiction story up to 700 words that involves a doomsday scenario. Anything goes, but the end of the world, or its perception, must be a driving force in your story.

image from Google Images
Pays one point and 2 member cents.

Save to Bookcase Promote This Share or Bookmark
Print It View Reviews

You need to login or register to write reviews. It's quick! We only ask four questions to new members.

© Copyright 2023. Y. M. Roger All rights reserved. Registered copyright with FanStory.
Y. M. Roger has granted, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.