“Harper, it’s time to get up!” my mother shouted, her dry voice echoing inside of my sleepy head.

I slowly arose from my bed, rubbing my exhausted eyes. I sat up, stretching my aching back and shoulders. I had to hurry or the short window of opportunity would quickly vanish before my eyes. I was the only one who could get it, my sisters were too little, and my mother didn’t have enough strength because she liked to let us have most of it. I heaved out of my hard mattress and started to get ready. On this cold, fall morning I decided that my best bet was to wear a dark purple sweatshirt with “Save the Tree’s” written on the front- ironic because there were no trees left. They had all been used. Throwing on a pair of boot-cut denim jeans, I ran out the door, buckets in hand.
I was the first one down at the end of the street, no one else had shown up yet. I had the overwhelming sensation that something was wrong. Then familiar footsteps hit the pavement. It was Kathy. Her small and short figure bounded down the street, her long dark hair flowing behind her in pony tail.
“Hey!” she said in her high pitched voice, her blue eyes gleaming in the sunlight, but when did they not. There were never any clouds.
“How are you’” I replied in a happy tone
“Thirsty”
“Aren’t we all?” I gestured to the many people waddling down the street.
She sighed and said “It’s Six- Thirty, it should be coming out of the hose head now”.
Sure enough, the most precious thing on earth trickled out of the pipe. Fresh water. For the past One-Hundred years, all of the oceans, glaciers, clouds, vapor, and ice had been collected by the world leaders in 3000. They realized that if the world continued to use and waste water the way it had been, they would run out in one year. All of the water is now rationed. It come to us once a week at Six Thirty. In hopes that it will last long enough for someone to develop a solution.
I heaved the water back to our shabby home. Even though there were only two gallons for every person, we had to make it work for one whole week. There was never enough for anyone. Looters constantly raided the streets, their parched tongues dripping with thirst. My mother always said “Protect our water, or you won’t have any”.
“Harper!” my mother croaked. “Do we have enough for a bath? Everyone needs one.”
I emptied one gallon into the container we collected bathwater in.


“No mom!” I yelled back. I looked down at my athletic frame, large legs, and small arms. My long red-brown hair draped over my tan face with hazel eyes. Dirt caked my fingers. I really did need a bath, but there wasn’t enough water.

As I walked upstairs, is saw my mother’s eyes glued to the television screen in shock. Her mouth was open wide, and tears were welling in her big brown eyes. I listened to the news,

“Breaking news! Officials have alerted the planet that there is no water left in storage. All of the world is dry. It is the end of human kind. The water in your home now is all you have left. You have approximately one week to live. There is no hope. This is your last news cast. Enjoy your last week of life”.

I hated the past humans. I had a future ahead of me. To go to college, become a teacher. To create a better life for myself than my mother had made for me. All of my dreams were being ripped from my longing grasp. I felt a wave of anger rushing though my confused body. Thrusting all of my energy into to kitchen, I grabbed our water supply, and drank as much as my tiny belly could hold. This is the last thing I remember before I blacked out.

I woke up the next morning with my stomach growling as if it contained a wild beast. Still in my plain clothes from the previous day, I stood up, and looked at the sunrise. The explosion of purples, yellows, and oranges was a beautiful display of the marvels of nature. Was this my last one? Yesterday seemed like a crazy dream. Was there really no water left? I trudged into the empty kitchen to make an egg. As I turned on the stove, the gas didn’t turn on

“How peculiar” I thought out loud. Then a sense fright swept over me. I slowly lurked down the hall and into my mother’s room. My sisters were all in the bed with my mom, so I went to wake them up. I nudged my mother to wake up. She felt cold, and separated. It was as if she was covered in a veil. Tears began to well up in my eyes when I realized that my mom and sisters were never going to see another sunrise. I was the only living soul in my house.

I turned on the television and it made a crackling sound. Not a single program was on. I assumed that there was no one who would be broadcasting. Now that my life had become a night mare, I glanced over to our water supply. Should I drink it? Should I die from dehydration? Should I just end my life now? All of a sudden, a poem came to mind:


Never give up
Never lose hope.
Always have faith,
It allows you to cope.
Trying times will pass,

As they always do.
Just have patience,

Your dreams will come true.
So put on a smile,

You’ll live through your pain,
Know it will pass,

And strength you will gain. (Charlie Remiggio)
I thought about the message of this poem. Eventually I decided that I will fight. I will be here, and I will not quit. My exhausted body decided that it was time to sleep before my alert brain did. It was the best sleep I’ve ever had in my life. That’s all I remember until I woke up.
I faced reality. My family is gone, I am going to survive I will find water. I will find a way. Then I heard a rustling in the kitchen. I turned the corner quietly, and noticed that the door was wide open. I quickly peeked into the kitchen, and saw a tall man stealing our food and water. He was about 6’ 2” with dark chestnut hair and blue green eyes. He had a strong jawline, and extremely long legs.
“Hello?” I murmured quietly “Can I help you, because that’s my water”
“Oh shut up!” echoed his booming voice. “You don’t understand my position.” Tears of insanity began to well up in his beautiful eyes. “Beat it kid!”
“I will not leave, I will not quit, and I will find a way” I said proudly.
“Most kids would be screaming ‘I want my Mommy’ but not you. You’re a fighter, you don’t give up.” He said in a way that created hope for me. “I won’t let you die of dehydration” at the same time, He pulled out a small silver pistol. Pointed it at me and shot.
As I about to take my last breath; I told the man “You may have killed me, but eventually you will run out of water and you will die alone. I am going to a better place. Enjoy your artificial life.” And just like that, my heart stopped.