The Beginning (standard:science fiction, 1008 words)
Author: jenne64	Added: May 02 2001	Views/Reads: 3366/2095	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
A new take on one of my older stories. Same story, new point of view. All stories start at the begining but this one ends there as well, maybe...

The Beginning . . . 

By Jenne64 

It began one dark, winter's eve.  I watched the TV report from the
comfort of my living room chair.  According to the blonde woman who was 
standing at the base of the conservatory, there was no cause for 
concern, but a small black void had been spotted in the atmosphere.  At 
this time, she said it appeared to have no significance, but to stay 
tuned for regular updates. 

Three weeks later the same blonde women was telling me that there was
still no cause for concern but the void appeared to be growing.  I 
listened to the so-called experts slug it out on  TV over the next few 
weeks.  No one really seemed to know anything.  No one had any answers. 
 The experts disagreed, as experts always do.  I watched the reports as 
probe after space probe was sent into the void.  They just disappeared, 
swallowed whole by a mass that continued to grow. 

Three months after it first appeared, I no longer needed my television
to see the mass.  Now I only had to step outside my backdoor and look 
up.  Where once there had been blue sky, I could see the black mass 
that was slowly  growing.  No one had any answers, but each day I would 
receive calls from worried parishioners, all looking to me, Gods 
messenger, for answers, but the truth was, I didn't have any.  All I 
had was reasons, and they did little to help.  Who would listen, 
anyway? 

Each Sunday I would tell them that fear had no place in my church.  This
was God's will.  But as I watched worried faces from the pulpit, I 
doubted that they believed that anymore than I did.  All my life I had 
believed, but now I began to doubt.  Each time I ventured out onto the 
streets, I doubted it a little more.  Each time I turned on the 
television, radio, or turned to the internet, I doubted it.  Everyone, 
including myself, was so busy looking for answers that we failed to ask 
the reasons. 

Six months later, the situation took on a new light.  My days were
always busy now.  Parishioners that once were concerned with each 
others well-being became increasingly concerned only with their own.  
As darkness spread across the planet like a plague, so the days became 
shorter and the nights longer.  People just accepted this, but they 
couldn't escape or accept that the air was growing thinner daily.  It 
was as though the life force was being sucked from every creature that 
inhabited the world. 

One Sunday, I watched as the congregation began to gather, and noted
that there were more, not fewer members.  Faces that I had never seen 
suddenly felt the need for deliverance from the evil that was in 
evidence everywhere one looked.  A short drive from home, and dealers 
could be seen on street corners openly peddling jars of air to anyone 
with the ability to pay.  I could see the trees and grass beginning to 
shrivel each time I walked into the cemetery, but I was powerless to do 
anything but observe. 

There were the inevitable scandals that prevailed as air was traded on
the stock market.  Government officials were accused of hiding air from 
the ordinary people.  There was talk of air-bunkers being built, 
artificial air being produced, and everyone wanted in on the deal.  
Whether these places really existed I have no idea, but the search for 
them was extensive.  The media whipped people into a frenzy of fear.  
Money became a major motivation as the crisis worsened.  People thought 
they could buy there way out of the crisis.  Ordinary people began 
collecting jars of air, trading them via the internet in a vain attempt 
to save themselves.  New laws were quickly enacted.  The distribution 
of 'air for profit' was prohibited. 

I tried my best, under the circumstances, to offer my parishioners
comfort, and more importantly hope.  Each passing day became more of a 
struggle, each day a little less air would be available, and each 
breath a little harder to take.  A hard-core band of us came together 
and offered what we could to others.  I wonder now, looking back at 
those early days, whether this was really for others benefit or our 
own.  Whether we weren't seeking forgiveness by truly trying to do good 
before the end. 


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