I must be feeling a little dark tonight. The story I give you is about the extremes of male hatred of women. I don’t foresee this actually happening; there are too many men that would prevent it. In spite of that, I felt like I needed to take it to the point of absurdity. After all, a number of other things I didn’t foresee, and didn’t think possible, have happened. So here, for your…pleasure…a story about an unknown girl.

SILENCE

Her phone beeped; she jumped with excitement. Someone got through! She checked; there was nothing. The number displayed wasn’t even a phone number. She thumbed the phone anyway, hoping against hope, but no one was there. She heard a pop nearby; it sounded electrical. Her phone beeped again. She threw it against the wall and lay down.

The dirty pillow was too thin to offer much comfort; the blanket wasn’t any better, but at least it gave the illusion of cover. She pulled it over her head; the noises wouldn’t go away. They never went away. It was tempting to look, but if she looked, they would find her. They would find her, drag her into the street, and…do what? She shuddered.

They would do what they did to Mom, she thought. What they did to Luann, to Bree, to Kaitlyn…even tiny Kaitlyn, only four years old. Her tiny body lying in the street after, naked, bruised, and bloody. All of the bodies…everyone she loved…naked, bleeding, dying in the street. She dropped the cover over the window and didn’t look out again. She would stay here, like Mom said. She wished Mom had gotten down here, Mom, and Bree, and Luann, and Kaitlyn…but the door crashed in before Mom could get everyone else down. She closed the door, hoping to keep one daughter from them. So far, it worked. They didn’t look for anyone in the basement.

It was impossible to keep track of time. Without the window, she didn’t know if it was day or night. She turned on the weak light when she was awake; there were some abandoned books down here, books from her mother’s school days, hopelessly out of date but better than nothing. Her phone had very little charge left; she wouldn’t have it much longer. No one would call her anyway. Everyone was dead.

The silence was welcome. The noises faded; they took the guns and fire bombs to another street, possibly to clear out all the women there. If there were any women left. The men vowed they would remove all women from the world; what good were they? Only babies…and we can make those in test tubes, the men said. With our DNA only, not tainted by inferior female genetics. So far, it looked like they were succeeding. They hadn’t found her, not yet, but it probably would happen. She didn’t know if it was safe to leave. She didn’t know where she’d go. According to the news, this was happening everywhere…every country, every city, every house. The male anchors sounded ecstatic. It was hard to believe there were none of them to report this as a tragedy…unless the men killed them, too.

She decided to check the news one more time…it would be her last contact with the outside world. Her phone was nearly dead. She heard the gasps, the screams, as the news played footage of the carnage. Billions dead…nearly all women, but some men who tried to help the women, or shield them. The death count was complete. She watched until her phone went dark; no more power. Her charger was upstairs. She didn’t dare go out. Not quite all the women, she thought. Not me.

The lights flicked off around the city. The men went to sleep, contented and happy. They achieved their goal. Now the human race would continue, but without the stain of menstrual blood or female tears. One lone female shuddered in the darkness and cold. No one knew she was there. No food, no drink…she knew she couldn’t hold out long. Soon it would all be silence.