The fate of the earth

I throw my cloak over my shoulders as I solemnly walk away from the deserted moor. My feet glide over the long hay and I bow my head in despair. Could it be true, I wondered, a hazy vision passed through my thoughts and a tear slowly slid down my cheeks. I look back, the grand house a mere dot as I descend through the rough fields. A life full of happy memories slowly fades as I make my way out of the ominous silence onto the once busy road. My musky boots kick the hard rubble before me and I break into a wave of sobs. Where was my papa all those years, the years of heartbreak, the years I lay in a deep coma, cursed to see his dying image before me as I begged helplessly and needlessly. I lift my basket up and shield my face as I try, however frailly, to stem the constant pour of water sliding down my pale cheeks. I collapse onto the stiff hay beside the cold road and wail as my sorrow overwhelms me. The ultimate torture. How could I bare to live like this, eternally, knowing that it was all my fault, that this terrible fate off the earth had once rested on my shoulders and I shook it off, oblivious the the screams and cries of my fellow earthlings. I buried myself into the dirt and ripped my dress until it hung limp and ragged. I rolled over and over, bawling my eyes out as I realize it was me, I set off the darkness and may I fall into obscurity for my wrongdoing. With one last sob I stop lifeless, waiting, waiting for life to rise again, for my atrociousness to be punished fatally. With one last breath I look in the corner of my eye and spot a human, the last hope.