April 2, 2015
By Scotty Bostick
7 months straight of no rain or snow. Food is scarce and markets are closing. 3/4ths of the Texas population has died and about 1,500 people are left alive. 12 year old John and his family are very poor and have to live in a certain way. His father hunts, his mother goes to gather water at a secret stream that’s almost dried up; all that’s left is a few small ponds the size of a fishbowl. His little 6 year old brother was taught to sew leaves together making bed sheets. John goes with his friend Iain every day and searches for food. There has been no signs of hope and they must find a way to survive.
“Come on John, wake up its 4:30”, screams Johns mother. John slowly gets out of bed, “I’m Coming.” He gets out of the small tent, felling the cold breeze sink into his shoulders. Walking over to Iains tent, he notices his swollen, burnt, and bloody feet sink into the sand of the un named dessert that used to be a forest 5 years ago before the deadly drought hit the center of North America. John opens up Iains tent cover, “Get up, it’s time to go.” Iain complains “What time is it.” “It’s 4:45, you slept in.” Iain slowly creeps out of bed and gets his shoes on. They start walking to their fathers that are preparing their handmade bows and arrows and knives. Iains father sadly comes over to Iain and I, “I’m so sorry about the drought and we can’t stay where we are.”
“What, we can’t leave, it’s to dangerous!,” Iain yells at our fathers. “Sorry but we have to split up and hope for survival.” “Bud dad,” I add to the conversation. “It’s for your own good, we have a better chance of surviving,” Dad says. Iains Dad says “We packed 2 backpacks full of the available supplies for you including, bows and arrows, a knife, a blanket, tarp, water bottles, tinder for fire, and a 2 squirrels that we kept. Iain and I cried and hugged our fathers and said our goodbyes. “And one last thing, your little brother is going with you John,” My father says. We walk over into his tent and called him, “Let’s go, one hour till sunrise.” In his sad voice he repies, “I don’t want to.” “You have to Tobby it’s not your choice” Iain adds on. “No I’m not going.” He’s getting Iain mad, “Yes you are.” “No I’m not.” Iain now starts to yell at him, “Do you want me to drag you!,” “Fine I’ll go,” he finally says. Tobby grabs his things and puts them in his backpack. We head out and find that our parents have already left. “They left us,” Tobby cries. “Let’s head west towards California, their isn’t a drought there.” “That’s our best option,” Iain adds on. We start walking through piles of dead bushes and trees laying on the sands, watching the morning sun rise up from the horizon.
At noon, we stop for a break. No luck, no water, no trees, nothing out here. We take only a sip of water from our water bottles because we know that we will need it. “Where are we,” Tobby asks laying on the sand in the shade under a rock. “No one knows,” I say. “Guys, we’re waisting our time here, he have to move on,” Iain says with his dry voice. “Let’s go,” I say getting up into the sunlight. I look at the sun, telling the time and direction. I point and say, “That’s West and it’s around 1:30 pm.” Tobby and Iain get up very dehydrated and tired. Their was a long journey ahead.
3 days later we used up our food and water and still no civilization. We walk on top on boulders the size of skyscrapers. We stumble down a rock and notice some Palm trees 300 meters away from us. “What’s that,” Iain looked using his blurry eyes. “Water!,” Tobby said like never before. A desert oasis surrounded by Palm trees and filled with animals of all sorts. Everyone looked happier than ever, totally forgot how sick and tired we are. I suddenly hear a rattling sound. I stop and look around for what was making that noise. I spot something on the corner of my eye. “Toby wait!,” I yell but it’s too late. The rattlesnake struck Toby right in the leg. He tried to stop but couldn’t. He spun round and round, rolling down a steep hill. Iain and I were paralyzed for a second. We both screamed “Toby!.” The hill followed down to a trench filled with sharp rocks. We scramble down the rock as fast as we can and see something horrifying that we will never forget. Toby laying on the ground, dead. We were shaking, not saying a word. The blood surrounded the ground around him. I had tears coming from my eyes. We carefully took picked up his body, brought him to the oasis and buried him under the rich and fertile soil. There we drank the oasis water, ate some cooked rabbits we caught, and filled up our water bottles again.
We woke the next morning by the beautiful sound of humming birds and stayed one last goodbye to the oasis with my dead little brother. We walked 15 minutes and then found a miracle. “A trail!,” We both said excitingly. We ran down the trail surrounded by different plants and animals. The trail lead to a road with many cars. We dropped of our backpacks and headed for freedom. From the hot and dry Texas to a wonderland in California. This was a miracle that they would never forget.