The Sinking City

By Joseph Landor

 

On the 17th  of August 2030, Waterloo flooded. Deathly cold water devoured grand houses and expensive buildings, rain fell like bullets and lightning illuminated the midnight sky. That was just the beginning. The flood was unstoppable; barricades and walls did nothing. Soon, Waterloo was nearly completely submerged. Children crying for their forever lost parents, pleas, and shouts for help, howling, drowning animals, the roar of rushing water and the stench of fear were just a few of the horrors that occurred on that dreadful day. All because of climate change.

That day, I lost my home, my belongings, my family and my life. I can still feel the bone-chilling water in my sleep, which sends shudders down my spine. We ran, but next thing I knew, I was alone, parents gone. I was rescued and taken to an underfunded, crowded shelter for the now homeless. It saddens me to see how many people, especially children, are alone, like me.

My name is Blake Shaw, I am fifteen and live in Liverpool. Some describe me as fiery, impatient and confident, others intelligent and calculating. My most notable feature are my emerald eyes that shine like jewels. Every day I watch the news, desperate to see if anything is being done to stop the flooding. Once again, Alfred Chacksmuth MP turns it down as a major issue. A fire rose in my stomach as my eyes ignited with rage. Why is no one doing anything? Someone has to make a difference.

It has been a month since the flood, and Liverpool is on the verge of chaos. Towns are overcrowded, large groups of people left on the streets with nowhere to go, the overpopulation increasingly bad, health and resources diminishing. Homeless people are being shipped to different countries to make space. This is all stupid. People are beginning to riot. Typical. People take any chance to cause mayhem instead of fixing the problem. I wonder how long until I’m going to be shipped off. Most people in the shelter are gone now, only forty of us left. The ones who made a point about the sloppiness of the government were the first to go. That’s the only reason I am keeping my mouth shut. At least the rusted, cheap metal building keeps a roof over my head and he wooden boards for windows keep most wind out.

I ran my hand through my sleek black hair as I switched the news on again. The reporter was explaining something called net zero, which I now know is about not using fossil fuels for energy. She also said it could be used in Liverpool and could reduce floods. I jumped out of the worn sofa, put my leather jacket on and bolted out of the shelter.

I sprinted to the Queen’s Square bus stop and got the bus to Waterloo. I felt an uneasiness creep over me as I gazed upon the submerged town. Tears pricked my eyes as I thought of my forever lost parents consumed by the hungry waves. What makes it worse is that lots of people lost their homes too. If what was said about net zero is true, I had to do something. As I glanced at the polluted, foul water a churning feeling grew in my stomach. I stared at the water defiantly. I would not let anyone else experience this. I would make a difference.

On the bus back, my mind was buzzing. I noticed that the flood was increasing, and it was being covered up. That was another thing I had to raise awareness of. If I encouraged net zero, maybe it could help reduce climate change along with lessening the rising floods. It wasn’t fair how the innocent people had to pay for other’s mistakes. When I arrived at the shelter, more people had gone. Only twenty of us were left. My heart dropped. These people had become like family to me with the bond we shared. I gathered the remaining people into a huddle and told them my plan. The next day, we began the fight against climate change!

At six o’ clock, three people put posters up all-around town about stopping climate change whilst the rest of us recruited people to our cause of raising awareness of net zero and the flooding. By nine o’clock we had gained around thirty people. We began parading through the city centre causing as much fuss as possible to gain attention. A wave of pride washed over me as I saw what I, a fifteen year-old still in school, had achieved. It just shows anyone can make a difference.

For the next month, we started an all-out campaign called Rise Over The Floods. We had people raising awareness all over Liverpool. We were all over the news and talks of net zero were now being discussed in Parliament. We had convinced a large percentage, but some groups refused to budge. Alfred Chacksmuth MP called us conspiracists and ludicrous. Anger boiled inside me. What didn’t he understand? Climate change is destroying our home, and we have to help the world by using resources safely. That will reduce floods that took my home. That shouldn’t happen to anyone.

I realised something. It was like my mind just pinged. I was going to have to go to London.

The train felt like years. Anticipation and anxiety swirled through my brain. Would I be able to get into Parliament? Would they listen? As I arrived at the grand, towering building, a guard stopped me until he recognised my face. It’s crazy to think how I went from being an ordinary teenager to a big face of climate change. He speechlessly led me into the ancient building. Just then, I realised thousands of eyes were pouring into my soul. It was time to convince the government to go net zero. Easy, right?

“Why have you come here?” a grey-haired man with sharp features asked.

“You dare to interrupt an important political meeting?” said Chacksmuth.

“I came here to discuss the overlooked issue of climate change and what can be done to stop it. We need to take action as it is destroying our world, and I came to tell you about net zero. If we achieve this, we can be a fully eco-friendly country, which could then occur anywhere in the world if we work together. Everyone has a voice, and everyone can make a difference.”

“How could we reach net zero?” a bald man with a white moustache inquired.

“We could build dams and bridges to use the water for power, this could also reduce pollution, floods and avoids burning fossil fuels.” I explained.

“Give us a moment,” a man with sleek hair said.

Frantic whispers filled the room as I waited nervously. Eventually they came to a decision. They said yes.

***

It is fifteen years since Liverpool went net zero, then the UK and eventually the world followed, and no more fossil fuels were burned. Floods have reduced and climate change is beatable now. I am an MP and a key voice in climate change. I did this at fifteen. No matter how young you are, you can make a difference.

 

J


 

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