Those were the only ways that the sky could've been described. I never found out how or why it happened.
Sixty seven years ago, I had to say goodbye to all I knew. Up was down. Left was right. Love was hate. There's no worse feeling than being dropped into a tornado of confusion, left with only your wits.
I had friends. Back then, who didn't? Everybody had friends. Friends were people, people who kept you company, bled from the same wounds, shed the same tears. I was tortured with the thought that they'd be dead. The people who stuck with me for so long, leaving me in the cold grip of an uncertain future.
If I were born today, I couldn't tell you what a family was. Family had other people. Family went the way of the dodo, like friends did.
There's no light here, only isolation and darkness. Technically, they may be different, but they feel the same.
I knew a lot of people, if it weren't for them, I wouldn't be the only one standing here today. I had a lover, I'm just waiting for the day I can see her again. I don't know when that'll be, because it has felt like an eternity out here. I think death would be too merciful for me.
The world today used to be a giant sphere, a tiny pebble within an ocean of pretty glowing specks and the occasional spot that lit up your day. Now, it blends in with the darkness of space.
I'm still trying to wrap my head around this, how humanity, and for that matter, all life, has ceased so suddenly. I don't count. This isn't a life. This is a torture.
There's nobody out here. Nobody. Only one body still walks. I fear it'll be too long before it collapses forever, maybe not at all.
All I've got now are journal entries. Whatever I didn't throw in the journal, I'll retell from memory. To whatever creature that might find this, I will tell you why you are in a damned world. Hopefully you can read.