A Short Story: The Blue Light

A bomb went off in the city. A flash of blue light quickly danced through my windows and cast itself onto the walls of my apartment. For less than a second, nearly everything in my home had turned blue. I threw myself to the ground and began to count to ten; they taught us to do this during the third world war, during school, to help keep us “safer”. At five seconds, the windows of my apartment blew open and a smoldering heat pushed over my body. It was as if I were a turkey inside an oven.

When I finished counting, I lifted myself up from the ground and looked around. My walls had gone from a cloud white, to a bomb blue, to an ashy gray, in less than eleven seconds. My back felt like it belonged to a pasty white man who’d spent too much time at the beach, redder than red. There were also some pieces of glass stuck in my skin from the windows exploding. 

The room wasn’t what I expected, few things had fallen over, however, nearly everything had changed in color. For a moment, I considered the possibility that I had lost the ability to distinguish the color of objects. Thankfully, this was not the case, as the wood floor of my apartment was still the dark brown it’s always been.

Although that deathly heat had passed on, the air still felt warm. Breathing it caused my throat to burn, similar to the burn one gets from drinking whiskey.

I walked around, observing the strange changes of color. My walls had all turned to ashy gray, but the ceiling had gone from white to silver. The reason for this was unknown to be, although something tells me it was the explosion.

Walking to to the window, I noticed that the outside was quite a mess. There were cars overturned, some on fire, all on the street. The street itself suffered from large holes and cracks, part of it had even collapsed into the subway bellow, pulling some buildings down with it.

I went to my radio, hoping for some sort of explanation as to what had just happened. I messed with the dials, trying to clear any sort of static I picked up. When I got to a news channel a man was speaking. He said, “The bomb went off around 10:23 AM and engulfed most of the southernmost part of Pogoren. The Federal Government is currently sending military and medical support to that part of the city, as well as neighboring areas.”

About an hour had passed since the explosion happened and I found myself walking down my stairs to the street below my apartment. The air was still warm and burned my throat. Now, my eyes were red and my skin felt like warm sandpaper. Despite these issues, I couldn’t stand sitting in my apartment, with my ashy gray walls, doing nothing while waiting for the government help to arrive. 

When I made it onto the street, death walked everywhere. The people walked around blindly, dazed, and confused. The sight of this caused a gross feeling to build up inside of me. As I walked, I passed by a women with a stroller. She was tall, with bloody brown hair that covered her face. When I came closer, she looked up. I backed up. The left side of her face was missing. Her cheek was gone and her exposed teeth were caked with blood. Her poor eyes, if you could even call them that anymore, were bloodshot. Her skin likely used to be a beautiful tan, but now it looked droopy and blood yellow. 

This woman’s face, however, was not at all as bad as what laid in her stroller. There was to baby, not at all. Not in the slightest sense. In the stroller was a sick pile of flesh. It was bloodier than blood. Every time the stroller rocked too much to one side, an ocean of blood would poor out. It took everything in me to not vomit. 

I ran as fast as I could, all I wanted was to be away from that woman and her “baby”. As I ran, I felt the ground shake.

I looked up into the sky, there was black smoke rising. Two skyscrapers had just collapsed. I didn’t understand what was happening, so I ran more. I passed by horrible people, people missing important parts of their bodies, eyes, legs, arms, etc.. I wasn’t sure how long I could make it, the dusty warm air filled my lungs and made me choke. It felt like I was being waterboarded. I was running, then I fell, and all I saw was black. 

When I woke up, I was in a hospital bed. The walls were white, the floor was blue, and my arms were covered in an ashy gray paste. A nurse walked in my room. 

“Good to see you’re finally waking up!” she said. “We’ve been waiting for a while.”
“Where am I? How long have I been out?” I asked. This hospital had a cool breeze flowing through it, it was delicious to breathe. 

“You’re in North Pogoren hospital, and you’ve been in a coma for about two days,” the nurse replied. 

“Oh… do you know what the explosion was all about?” I asked.

“Yes, it was an attack from the Russians,” she replied instantly. “They declared war an hour before the bomb went off, that’s why the Government sent military aide and not just medical.”

“Damn commies” I replied. 

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