My name is Romany Gretchen-Gretel Østler. I’m 17-years-old and I’m the last of my kind. I’m the last of several kinds actually: I’m the last teenager, the last girl, the last sister, the last daughter and the last human being left on this planet. But I’m alive (which I’m taking as a definite positive for now), and this is my story.
Day one of the new world calendar didn’t go so well for me. Got savaged by wolves, lost in a snowstorm, I’m starving, got no food or water, I’m hurt, got no shelter, no warm clothing, no idea what’s going and no-one to ask. Still, it probably could be worse. And anyway, tonight I became a fire god.
Still alive: check! Only partially eaten by dogs: check! Shelter found: check! Fire started: check! Wounds treated: check! Obviously I’m not having your average day. But dawn is here, the wolves got bored and went home and I can turn my attention to my stomach, since the wolves kindly left it intact. I’m ravenous, and that long multi-legged critter that’s crawling up my leg looks curiously just like a Double-Double burger…
Waking up in a raging snowstorm somewhere on an arctic tundra, surrounded by a pack of hungry wolves with only the clothes on your back for protection is an extremly bad start to any girl’s day. Only it’s my night, and I have no idea where I am, what happened or where I should go (or maybe run…fast).
Like the Gods I am a Lord of the Elements. Well… one of them, and a small one at that. But you know, I just don’t feel immortal. In fact, I think I might be bleeding to death, and in the warm glow of my fire, I can now see how seriously I am injured. I don’t know what to do or who to ask for help…
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