The sunset

A young man woke up from a dream with an unusual cough. He had been standing on a small balcony with a big red signal, a classic bus stop. He took out his phone, put on his headphones, and started playing his mix playlist.

He had a name tag with the nickname "Chump."

The other people waiting for the bus all yawned simultaneously. Lost in their thoughts, they seemed to be paying no attention to their surroundings.

As they waited, he glanced at the sky. The sunset was becoming beautiful, with yellow light bathing the clouds and giving them a lovely yellowish-pink hue, a perfect contrast for a Renaissance painting.

But something felt off.

The blue tones were replaced by clear emerald hues. Not in a perfect blend or a gradual manner. It was as if the blue had been dried out and replaced with green.

"How strange… I know sunsets can be multicolored, but I've never seen touches of green," thought the young man.

The others waiting at the bus stop yawned once again in unison.

He opened an app called WhatsApp. (I believe this app is widely known and doesn't require explanation.) He had messages from muted chats. He read a bit.

There was more family drama involving his decisions. He ignored those messages, his face marked with a grumpy expression.

"Alright, that's enough for today," he thought.

The bus arrived, making two stops. He boarded and greeted the driver casually, but she ignored him. Everyone, including the bus driver, yawned at the same time, their gazes fixed on the horizon.

Looking out the window, he saw that the green atmosphere had overtaken almost every color in the sky. The sun barely shone through. He could even look directly at the sun without any discomfort. The green-tinted air filtered the sunlight as if it were a mere light bulb.

The bus shook vigorously, resembling a washing machine. Chump held onto one of the handrails.

"What in the world… Why is it shaking like this?" he shouted in a mixture of anger and confusion.

He scanned the bus interior. Everyone was asleep. The bus took a sharp turn, too hard, too fast, and too close.

Turning his head towards the front, he exclaimed, "What the... I've taken this route many times! What's happening?"

Taken aback by this unexpected turn of events, he realized they were making a left turn right in the middle of the road, instead of staying on the right side. There were no signs that would permit a driver to turn around in that location.

In a rush, Chump ran to the front. Sweat dripped from his hands, and his heart raced like a sledgehammer in a marathon.

"Hey, what's going on? Hey!" He saw the bus driver, growing angrier by the moment. He struck the driver's seat. "You're the driver!"

The driver was asleep. Chump shook the driver vigorously, but it had no effect. He pushed the driver aside as much as he could in the confined space of the driver's cabin and grabbed the steering wheel. Chump steered the bus towards the nearby highway.

He managed to drive the bus away, reaching a nearby green park just before losing full control of the vehicle. Fortunately, no one was around.

The bus tipped over, falling onto its side and causing chaos inside. Chump was thrown against the front door during the crash. The bus eventually flipped completely upside down.

Thanks to his swift actions, Chump suffered only minor injuries – a few scratches and concussions amidst the chaos. Coughing violently, he knelt up and exclaimed:

"Ugh... I don't understand..."

As he stood and surveyed the scene, everyone was unconscious.

"Okay, not a single person woke up after being crushed or thrown around... Wonderful..."

He placed his hand on his left side, coughing slightly and groaning. He approached the nearest passenger and checked their vital signs. No breathing or heartbeat. The reality of the situation hit him, and panic took over his actions as he recalled what he needed to do.

With each passing second, his hands moved faster, almost erratically. With a trembling pulse, he quickly grabbed his phone, dialed the emergency number, put it on speaker, and began performing chest compressions on the man, attempting to bring him back to life.

"Come on, answer the call!"

Amidst violent coughs, his eyes grew dry, and his muscles ached. His movements grew weaker with each passing minute.

Finally, the call was answered.

"1-1-2, What... Is your... emergency?" The sounds of something falling off or hitting a table, and no voice can be heard for a few seconds. "Jimmy, are... you…" Another noise of something falling off a table.

The call was on, but nobody answered, nor did any sound come out.

The young boy pressed the button over and over, but to no avail. The old man was not waking up. He kept trying harder, tears forming on his face, clenching his teeth in pain. Frustration, the impotence of his actions. In his mumbling between his teeth were guttural and asphyxiated noises. Anyone could hear his rage. His breath wanted to get louder, but his mouth stayed shut, screaming in pain through his teeth.

"Please live! No, stay with us, man, you... no..."

He stopped several minutes later, seeing that the other couldn't make it. The person in front of him had died. He looked up and scratched his face fiercely, his arms, his whole body, looking around for anything that would help. His hands sweated and trembled.

He gazed at the streets, not knowing what to do.

The cars hit, crashed, or bumped into each other, but he noticed a detail that terrified him.

Nobody was awake. The people in their cars or any type of transport were down. The people on the sidewalk or in the green park were on the floor as well. Nobody else was awake, and each time he looked, or even blinked, fewer and fewer people were alive, letting go of that last breath they held with… relief.

"Please let this be one of those nightmares! Why does it feel so real? This cannot be happening… Is it happening? Why is this happening?! Why am I the only one feeling normal... or... awake?" His mind was going crazy.

He grabbed his phone and reached for the driver's seat. He pressed the button with the tiny picture of the doors opening. He got out, climbing onto whatever he could step on. Once outside, he ran through a neighborhood.

Beads of sweat formed on his forehead, flowing down his mediocre features. His heart raced like a wild stallion, pounding against his ribcage. Every hair on his body screamed urgency, pleading for him to act swiftly.

With his phone in hand, he desperately called different numbers.

"AaHome"

"Please pick it up! Please, for the love of God! Please tell me that at least this is genetic and we can survive at least! Not my family!"

No answer. He called multiple times. No answer. He called another number.

"AaSister"

No answer.

"Best forever cool friend"

No answer.

"Sharlindra."

No answer.

For once in all his years, the silence was deafening. For once, he wanted anything, anyone, any sign of life, no matter how annoying it would be.

Six minutes later, he arrived at an apartment building. Pulling out some keys, he opened the main door and ran up the stairs without thinking twice. He almost tripped every few steps. He blasted through his door, striding over every obstacle in his way.

He reached the main living room.

And stopped, his heart freezing.

Tears, silence, and pain. The room was like any other modern living room, but on the sofa lay two bodies of an aged-up man and an aged-up woman.

"Dad... Mom..."

He approached slowly, in silence. He didn't hear anything. No breathing. He placed both hands on their throats. No pulse. They seemed peaceful, holding hands together. Peaceful, happy expressions adorned their faces. It seemed it was a painless death.

Chump kneeled, sobbing. His sobs were barely heard. He held their hands.

"I should have been here... why... why... why..."

Those were the only words he muttered, repeating them in a constant cycle of agony. Eventually, not even those would come out, just pure silence. Moments ago his face had been filled with radiant confidence and determination. Now it was painted with red, terror, and dread. He got up, his eyes empty of light.

He stared to his left, on the balcony of his house. Full of pots, plants, and decorations outside the main living space. He took small steps towards the garden.

No sound. No thoughts. No distractions. Nothing else mattered at that moment. For the first time in months, no, in years, he truly stopped, contemplating everything.

As he got closer, he saw more of the population lying down on the streets. Only low noises could be heard, mostly machines and animals. But not a single living human soul. Then a big thunderous noise came from the sky. An airplane was descending, still several hundred meters from where he was standing.

It looked like it would crash far away based on its trajectory.

It was supposed to be nighttime, but the emerald sky lit up every corner.

He looked down, contemplating the streets. More bodies. More peacefully smiling faces around. But his face was empty. Empty of life, of energy, of hope. Lacking strength in his arms, firmness in his legs. His pulse slowed dramatically, no longer feeling like a time bomb. Only his mouth moved a bit as his dry, red, twitching, glum eyes looked down.

"This is... enough distance."

He placed his hands on the railing and his legs moved up to a small object, helping him go upward. He looked back, seeing his parents. His voice muttered something, lacking the strength and volume to tell them "I am sorry". He moved his leg up, to the other side of the balcony.

His phone rang.

He recognized the tone. It was not one of the alarms. It wasn't the ringtone from a message. It was an incoming call. But it wasn't personalized either. He placed his foot back on the tiny stairs and picked it up carefully. He answered, not reading the name or number.

The voice was feminine. The voice was filled with desperation, sobbing, and coughing.

His voice ignited.

"...Sis... Sis?!"