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     This was it. Explosions, fire, everything was broken. Ground still shaking, buildings still breaking. 

The walls around me were growing cracks that over time were drawing paths of travel as they 

journeyed their way to the top, and soon the end, of the buildings they were ordered by the ground, to 

break. The buildings crashed and swayed as the ground shattered. A rupture so large, so anticipated, 

yet unexpected. A loud sound of nothingness, and yet a quiet sound of death fill my ears as I turn at 

each block in realization that MY city, MY home, is now, as I sigh, nothing entered my ears. As I walked 

through the great allies and down the once perfect roads that we lived in, I saw leaves falling from 

above and cracks and holes on the road, and I knew, this was it. I blew dust off of the things of 

importance, trying to pretend like nothing was wrong. Grey dark streets, busy yet empty. I felt alone in 

the middle of panic and anxiety.   People yelling, “Where’s my DAUGHTER!?!” others crying, because 

they know where. I ignored the yelling, the screaming. My city was gone. What to look at in the 

morning when the sun rises, what to stare at when alone, what to hold on to when I had nothing to live 

for. The tall buildings towered over me, broken but still standing with the finished cracks running up and 

down striping the new non-existence of my city. Off the map, gone, hard to say I’m still alive. 

     Curious, I walked into a building. Lights were blinking on emergency power supplies. People were 

running down the emergency stairs, trying to get to solid ground in preparation of another aftershock. I 

walked up the stairs. Spiraling above me, I couldn’t see the end. As I walked up, every step I took, I 

realized how much more empty my life was. Every single step I went up, I believed in less, wanted 

less, lived for less. My city, as it shook, no longer gave its own sense of life. My city, as it fell, gave up. 

The steps to me where a battle themselves. The feeling of accomplishment fulfilled me when I could 

finally see the top. Each step, took away from my something to live for. I knew this was it. I was ready 

to jump. As I reached the top I went straight for the edge of the roof. I looked around at my ruined 

city, looked at my broken apartment building down the road, saw no sign of a future positive life, saw 

no insurance companies, saw nothing left. I took one last look at the staircase I just climbed and 

sighed. Why did I just climb a staircase? What gave me the encouragement to even go up each step. I 

had something for live for back then, something that was keeping me breathing now, and maybe there 

was something in the future. I   went down the stairs, and each step I took I thought of the city, and 

how broken it was, but this time, I tried thinking of how hard it was to fix. This was hard for me to think 

about, I thought it was silly. 

Reaching the bottom, I heard the panicking citizens, loud and clear this time. They were no longer 

silent. I now, like them,   had something to live for, and something to fear. I walked down the alleyway 

nearest to me. In this alley, dark brick buildings with windows missing and nothing but emptiness towered 

left and right. Cars with glass shattered, parked along the sides. I kicked over a nail-struck, broken, plank of 

wood. I feel a gush of wind strike me, while my skin feels nothing. I look at the plank, the turned over building 

block and it read: “This is the beginning”.

I knew in my head exactly what this wooden plank was trying to tell me, what someone ‘up there’ 

was trying to tell me, but I didn’t want to know.   I looked up at my city again and I saw the havoc 

and insanity turning every corner.   Everyone was panicking, people were being mugged, guns were 

being shot, riots were breaking out.   And here I am with this plank of wood in my hands. The plank of 

wood I just turned over, the plank that was trying to tell me that my life can be fixed.   I journeyed my 

way out of the alleyway, through the great streets of downtown Vancouver. My city. The ‘big one’ finally hit 

it. We’ve always been talking about the ‘big one’. Everyone said it was coming but never would prepare for it. 

Look at us now. All of our houses are gone, our families broken, our lives completely changed forever. 

How do we, as a city, advance from this point? We can all look at eachother, look at how corrupt the 

human can be in times of disaster. Everyone turning from consumers to survivalists. The drastic changes 

can happen so fast. Rabid humans almost all thinking momentarily yet panicking for the future. The insanity 

is present on every little block of Vancouver, beautiful British Columbia, Canada. The helicopters above, 

filming, and not saving people. The trees all bare and either broken, fallen, or staying strong on the rugged 

ground. 

“Why are you holding a piece of wood?”

I feel a gush of wind strike me, while my skin feels nothing. I look at the plank, the turned over building block 

and it read: “This is the beginning”.

I knew in my head exactly what this wooden plank was trying to tell me, what someone ‘up there’ was trying 

to tell me, but I didn’t want to know.   I looked up at my city again and I saw the havoc and insanity turning 

every corner.   Everyone was panicking, people were being mugged, guns were being shot, riots were 

breaking out.   And here I am with this plank of wood in my hands. The plank of wood I just turned over, the 

plank that was trying to tell me that my life can be fixed.   I journeyed my way out of the alleyway, through 

the great streets of downtown Vancouver. My city. The ‘big one’ finally hit it. We’ve always been talking about 

the ‘big one’. Everyone said it was coming but never would prepare for it. Look at us now. All of our houses 

are gone, our families broken, our lives completely changed forever. 

How do we, as a city, advance from this point? We can all look at eachother, look at how corrupt the human 

can be in times of disaster. Everyone turning from consumers to survivalists. The drastic changes can happen 

so fast. Rabid humans almost all thinking momentarily yet panicking for the future. The insanity is present on 

every little block of Vancouver, beautiful British Columbia, Canada. The helicopters above, filming, and not 

saving people. The trees all bare and either broken, fallen, or staying strong on the rugged ground. 

“Why are you holding a piece of wood?”

I looked up and around for the calm and soft female voice that just filled my ears.

“Hello? Why are you holding wood?”

I looked to my left and I saw her. She was staring at my hand. She looked calm, too calm. She looked as 

though she was untouched by the situation. Her face was pearl white, with blue eyes and black hair tied up in 

a bun. Her simple appearance made her mysterious and beautiful. She was wearing sweatpants and a blue 

long sleeve Nike shirt that read “Just Do It” and black rubber sandals on her feet. Behind her I could see 

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