The Flame of HopeSuddenly, an explosion echoed off the walls, causing debris to fall from the ceiling. Screams were heard immediately afterwards, fearing that this was the decisive moment. The bomb that would bury us alive. The lights flashed once, twice, then darkness engulfed the population. The last six days have been spent in a concrete bunker, hundreds of feet below the desolate ground. Terror struck us every waking moment; nightmares haunted us all night. Of course we were afraid: we were the only human beings left. My civilization has always been in danger. Famine, drought, disease, recession. But despite all this, we move on. Isn't it ironic that we are the last? We are facing a race much superior to us, commonly called cyborgs. These creatures have the ability to feel emotions and make instinctive decisions, like a human. However, the robot side controls the analytical data, which creates possible scenarios in an instant. They are never wrong. How do you beat an opponent who can't lose? We were completely unprepared for the invasion. The cyborgs had completely wiped out the eastern part of North America before we were told to go underground. In my town, those who denied our probable extinction or who were losing the will to live remained above it. Their death was quick and easy. I envy them. Nevertheless, here I am, sitting in the darkness, waiting for death to take me into unknown territory. All I could do was reflect on my life and pray for forgiveness of my sins. It was all anyone could do. Every day, basic necessities, such as food and water, were distributed to each family. At first we were careless with supplies. We have very few resources left. If we were not buried alive, we would surely remain... middle of paper...... gathering my soul and giving me life. Around this ember, I felt safe. The ground around it burst into flames, instantly creating a large inferno that licked my eyes. It was not a soothing comfort that the small ember had produced, but a terrifying beast intent on tearing my flesh apart. The flames spread, devouring everything in its path. The burn marks were traces of where he had destroyed. There was nevertheless a form of magnificence in its chaos. Shades of dark red, angry yellow, deep blue, and brilliant purple danced in the darkness. The tongues of fire twisted then parted. Sparks flew in the darkness, crackling as they sailed. From time to time, a small shoot rose from the ashes. It grew and grew and grew until beautiful flowers bloomed. They would only thrive for a short time before being consumed by flames..