Back then, I've never understood why people fall in love. It’s such a colossal commitment, devoting yourself to a human being. It seems so strange. It is something I would never devote myself to, not in a million years. There is always a risk factor that plays into everything joyful. With great joy, there is great pain. There is always the chance of a breakup, unrequited love, regret, betrayal, and revenge. Getting into a relationship is like a gamble, which I view as too intimidating. 

I believed people who fall in love are naive because essentially, they are giving their hearts out - only to be temporarily blissful and then risk the chance of being heartbroken. Besides, it’s disgusting to know an individual relies heavily on another being during their existence; it seems as if one’s life revolves only them, which gives society the impression that one is dependent and needy. The vulnerability put forward when someone is in love and being rejected by someone who can’t reciprocate or simply care, with the same vulnerability, makes people feel as if there was something wrong with them. I believed love usually never turned out the way people yearn for, and I always scoffed at the idea of crushes, thinking it was a mere method of destruction. I thought crushes were worthless and I told myself I would never develop a crush, as I disregarded it as a waste of time. Little did I know, this notion of a "crush" completely changed my life.

Somehow, a few months ago, I experienced this newfangled emotion. I wasn’t sure what it was but I loved this boy, Connor. He always radiated a ray of enthusiasm and joy around him, which was so contagious and beautiful. His eyes were of a hazelnut color that clashed and sparkled with different hues. The light from his eyes burned with curiosity; a desire to learn more and innovate, which was something I deeply admired. I always wished I had such a deep passion, such a yearning purpose in my life. His smile also warmed my heart. He rarely smiled, but when he did, it was so amazing; his small dimples were enough to make my day. He has this strange aura around him and I always wanted to be around him. In fact, at that time, my purpose in life was to love and be loved. 

In addition to this boy, my sister, Angela, was a person I loved deeply as well. Whenever I got into trouble, she was always there by my side, to stick up to me, even if she was well aware if she was occasionally on the losing side. She stuck up to me and occasionally took the blame, or even shared it. She did not let me go into battle by myself; and she was my shield to talk about what any bullies say to me and she was also my sword, ready to fight back. She supported me in everything I did, and when I found that life’s hill became oo steep to climb alone, she reminded me I did not have to climb this hill alone. 

Until she didn’t. She wasn’t there for me anymore, and I wasn’t there for her. We were in the same school, the same house, but at the same time; we were mere strangers. I stare at my hands, teary-eyed, in nostalgia and thought. Why did things have to end up like this? 

Angela was always there for me, especially whenever I needed makeup tips or advice for boys. She had great interpersonal skills and always knew what to say, by guiding me through my problems and the things from the past. I felt I could always tell her about my deepest darkest secrets and she was always there to listen to everything I had to say.

Consequently, I told her about Connor and she gave me tips on how I could pursue this boy. She boosted my hopes and she made me think I had a chance with him. Connor and I texted and talked a lot, and we were good friends. I was crazy in love. I genuinely thought our relationship could develop into something even more and I was excited to explore this novel idea of love, as it seemed appealing to me. 

However, I didn’t. I didn’t have a chance with this boy. I realized this due to those three words my sister uttered. Those 3 words that Angela said that would change my outlook entirely. These words were jarring, painful, and raw. 

She eyed me worriedly and said those aching words to me. “I’m dating Connor.”

I grasped my hands tightly into fists and they perspired greatly. My mouth was left agape, processing the words I just heard. Then, after I gained my composure, I half-smiled and murmured, “Hey, that isn’t cool, you should have told me earlier.”

She looked down and shrugged, “Sorry, but I like him and I didn’t want to hurt your feelings.”

My eyes furrow into silts and I addressed with disgust, “You should have told me earlier.”

She interjected and reached out her hand to me in comprise “But-”

“I thought we had a special connection, but we don’t. I never really knew you. I guess you were just a stranger.”

“Okay, fine. It’s how you’re going to be. I’m fine. You’re so dense for fighting with me over a guy. Get over it.”

With that, we parted our ways. Same house, but on opposite sides of the house. The exchanges we made were brief and quiet, and that was how it was a year. The seasons fly by, things change, but our relationship was the same.

Simultaneously, along with a ruined relationship with my sister, I was heartbroken by the fact that Connor chose Angela over me. That kind of news shocks and pierces a hole through my self-esteem, knowing that I will never be good enough. Not good enough for Connor. 

I thought I could trust her, but she took the guy of my dreams and never even told me about it. I couldn’t believe it. It was disgusting, I simply couldn’t bear it. I buried myself in work and kept myself busy, so I would never have time to think about my newfound bubbling animosity. She took my love, so I yearned to be better than her. To destroy her in every possible way, outdo her, until she comes to my side - yearning for me again. I wanted Connor as well to feel guilty that he didn’t choose me. I wanted to take revenge, in a sense.

Hate and enmity welled up in my heart, fury burning deep within me. Whenever I think of Angela, I can only think of the sorrow caused. Not the moments I cherished, but those 3 words she uttered. Consequently, I studied and worked so hard to be better than Angela. It worked: I got better grades and became better at various things than her such as sports, arts, and drama. But it still didn’t fulfill the emptiness that has been aching in my heart. The loneliness and emptiness I felt. I felt I had no one to connect to. I was just stubbornly climbing life’s hill to no avail. 

Hate is what fuels some of us. Hate can break us. Hate can hurt us. It most certainly did hurt me. 

I recall vividly. Angela stated she loved me and I took her word. She said I was her best friend and over the years, we fostered this special relationship and I became a bedrock of her personality. But that one day, that recollection, when she announced she was in love with someone else; it would have been kinder to kill me. I have been enveloped in this bitterness I cannot control. I am yesterday’s news and Angela is the love of his life. They are even boyfriend and girlfriend; cuddling and kissing. All the while, I am forced to smile and make small talk with my former love interest. The hate doesn't ebb, it multiplies.

There is no prize worth the corruption of my soul; hate brings only pain and the cycles of destruction upon me. But I didn’t care. It has consumed me so deeply, so passionately, like a flame burning inside me relentlessly to no end. I was blinded by the world and by love.

I hate my sister. But surprisingly, today, no hate was there. It was like it drifted away as if it was a distant memory. Everything seemed like a distant memory. 

Sounds that came sailing in the breeze; the birdsong came so sweetly, almost tangible as if it were softly spun sugar. I would sit there upon the clouds that were my dreams until, as the ones above are so prone to do, they condensed to form the random ideas that quench my mind. 

The realization kicks in. Today was the last day of school, a day of farewells and goodbyes. It was also a day of farewell from Angela.  

I stared at her, while we drove to the airport. I wanted to convey so many things to her, but I only ended up staring at her. She stared back in response. I opened my mouth, but it felt dry, raspy, and the words would not come out. I remember the fond memories I shared with her, how supportive she has, and how she was always there to remind me I wasn’t there to climb life's hill alone. The passionate short memory dwelled in my soul for so long, but at this moment; it didn’t matter. Because she was leaving.

The decision arrived. The divorce papers were granted by the court. It’s crazy how fast people can fall in and out of love. Our parents were happy and ready to depart and they didn't think we sisters would think much of it given our distanced relationship. 

My father and Angela were moving to Japan, meanwhile, I would stay in the United States. Sooner or later, we wouldn’t just be on opposite sides of the house; we would be on opposite sides of the globe. Precisely, 6313 miles apart, separated by borders, mountains, and all sorts of other miscellaneous natures. 

I was numb and was in the urge of bursting into tears, as we drove to the airport. Our fingers were entwined and crossed. It was pure silence and we sat there, contemplating if everything that we’ve been through was worth it.

Soon, we were at the airport. Before she left for her flight, I mustered my courage and whispered I’ve been meaning to say for a while, “I miss you.”

She reluctantly eyed me and murmured, “Me too, and I’m sorry about Connor.”

“History is history,” I shrugged.

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Please don’t go,” I said with my hands perspiring in fear, uncertain about the future that was in store for me.

But words aren’t enough. Wishing she didn’t go wouldn't be enough, as there she went. Off, in a way, into the sky; abroad, off to a new journey with new destinations. 

I have acknowledged the idiom that all good things come to an end, and I wished I cherished the moment before instead of being blinded so much by hate, over a stupid little love we’ve shared over the same boy.

 However, time is time, and I cannot simply travel back in the past. The damage has been done and my relationship with Angela still has never been the same, and I haven’t connected with her much after her departure. Only time will heal.

After her departure, all I could do was stare at the photos I’ve had of her, stare until I couldn’t see through my shower of tears. 

Was this crush worth losing my sister over? With such lust, things ended poorly, to the point I didn’t speak to Angela anymore. But I didn’t have the serious maturity, and the resolute compromise to deal with the situation. She didn’t either. With that, as hard as relationships are to build, they easily came crashing down on us. 

I realized my hatred was nothing but a transformation of my shame and insecurities. I lacked the courage to face Angela in the previous year since I was jealous and hurt. We were both in the wrong. It was far easier to lose yourself in the theatrics of my mind, casting myself as the victim and leading lady, than it is to swallow even an ounce of truth. All I did was beat down my sister who already had more than their soul could take several times, given my other numerous problems.  

I wish I found my way out of hatred early, to see for myself who I am really under ever-changing illusions conjured by my mind. 

With hate, there is love. Love is the most beautiful thing in life. Love is the real essence of healing. It is the real medicine for the soul and the real secret to happiness. It’s everlasting and eternal by nature. 

Love is the beginning and the end

Love is this abstract phenomenon I failed to grasp in my earlier years. I wish I saw this light before. I realize love is the glimmer of hope the world needs now and is still hanging on to. With such love, I know one day, I will find Angela again and things could go back to how they used to be. Even though we are miles apart, with love, we have that burning passion to connect sensually, spiritually, and physically. I believe, despite the distance, my sister and I can still hold hands and climb life's hill. Together.

Huff, puff. Huff, puff. Where do I go? I have wandered this maze for long. The ground is jagged, the walls close around me. Left, right. Left, right. Follow the scent and go to the right. Follow the wind and go to the left. Follow your gut and turn back around. Huff, huff. Puff, puff. My life is running, reach the next bend. Left? Right? Left? Right? I see another, narrow at the end. Huff, puff. Huff, puff. Ah. I stop. The path is blocked. I turn around and go the other end. Huff, puff. Another block. What do I do? The sky is above me, but there is no path upwards, is there? My path is the same, to find the next bend. Ah. I’ve already been here before. Here too. Also there. What do I do? What do I do? Is this the end? Is there no more? Up above the skies, a human looks down. ‘What is that insect crawling back and forth inside the cracks?’ Whistling idly, the human continues down the straight road.

Due to climate change, the world’s oceans are rising, cities are collapsing, forests and deserts are being flooded. As the sea levels rise and destroy everything in their path, the trenches of the ocean crack open.  Monsters and giant old creatures like the Kraken, the Leviathan, hydras, and giant sea serpents of the deep come out looking for food. They eat animals such as sharks, whales, and large land animals. But with that, they are still hungry. At night the monsters of lore look for humans, searching for them. And when they find them they gobble them up in one snap, as the smell of blood fills the water and air causing more terrifying creatures to chase. No human knows what to do. Scientists believe it is the end of all humanity and that humans are paying the price for their mistakes. 

Everybody wants to survive, and people take shelter in high places.  Individual families pack and hike up mountains. My family still lives in the city because we thought we could survive. But now we realize that it was a terrible decision. Every day the water rises. My family and I are still in our house; the water is about halfway to our house.  We ration our food and build layer upon layer of wood and metal on the walls and windows, so no water would trespass in. Every night we build a campfire in our living room hoping to scare off the giant creatures; sometimes it works, and sometimes it doesn’t. We hear big thumps and moans and unusual weird sounds every night we try to go to sleep. We cuddle against the fire keeping warm, regretting that we should’ve fled like the rest of the city and taken high ground. But instead, we are holding onto our hope as we slowly fall asleep.                                                                                             

I woke up to a loud moaning and thumping. Probably from the monsters I thought. I rolled out of my blanket and raised my head. It is still night; the moon is blaring right through the boarded-up windows. I look around to see if everyone else is still asleep, mom, dad, Helen, and Uncle Jacob-wait where is Uncle Jacob? I turn my head and search for him. I check all the rooms. He isn’t anywhere; he must be outside. I know there is only one place in the house where you could go outside without water trying to swallow you whole, the roof.

I go to the attic and pull down a string from the ceiling. I climb on the old stairs and march up. When I open the door a strong breeze takes hold of me.  The smell of the ocean passes right through me like a ghost, and hundreds of miles of ocean lay upon me. The moon shines on the water as a smudgy wavy reflection, and right there I see Uncle Jacob, sitting there staring at the sky. I walked towards him making a loud CRUNCH every step I took. I got closer and closer until I could almost hear his breathing. 

Uncle Jacob is very nice and kind. He treats people with respect and honesty. His words are like a piper and a flute. They flow out gently and soft but can be jazzy and funky. His face is always filled with laughter and joy, but now it seems like something has smacked all of that away. His eyes are a dark blue and sparkly, but his eyes look a little paler and have gotten to a light shadish blue, and his sparkly twinkle in his eyes are gone. It’s as if something has drained the life out of him. He turns to me, staring at me like I’m a statue.

“Why are you up this late Lara?” Uncle Jacob whispers.

“I woke up from the monsters, what are you doing out here?” I ask.

“I don’t know, it seems like we have been stuck in that house for too long, I just want this all to end.” Uncle Jacob answers.

“Me too?”

“Yes, that would be good.” He mutters.

This is getting uneasy. It’s like he is just a shadow-like he’s never really there. He stops the conversation from there.  Everything is quiet and still. I stare at the water watching my reflection. All I see is me and the deep dark water surrounding me, knowing that death lurks in there. I stare at the water, like there is something else, like a warning my brain is trying to tell me, warning me to stay away and go back inside. I stare at the water some more and see a ripple. A ripple? Out here? It is the middle of the night, what could there be? 

I stare at the water more closely, and out of nowhere a scaly, dark green, gigantic sea serpent jumps out and aims towards me.  I scream and dodge it. Uncle Jacob gets up and yells for me to get out of here and take shelter inside the house. My heart is beating faster as I get up and sprint towards the door to the attic. The serpent slips back into the water and Uncle Jacob runs back to the attic door.  

“COME ON!” I yell.

He sprints and when he is a foot away, the monster shoots out like a bullet, grabs ahold of him, and tightly wraps itself around him.

“NOOOOOO!” I scream.

The serpent twists and turns, tearing him part by part and drags him into the deep black water. Blood is splattered all over me. I run back into the attic, shut the door tightly and collapse, millions of tears coming down like a heavy storm. I squeeze my hands into fists and wrap myself with my arms. I sit there crying my heart out. 

After the attic floor is soaked up with my tears, I slowly walk out.  My footsteps carrying out the loss I just saw. I walk into the living room. My mom and dad are praying and muttering to themselves if I’m still alive. I take a few steps more and they quickly turn to me. Their faces mix with emotions of relief, happiness, and surprise. They run towards me trying to hug me.  I don’t say anything. I just drink some water, take some bites of food and go upstairs to change. I come back down feeling powerless and hopeless. I did nothing for my Uncle, just stood there and watched it all happen. As his life was stripped away, death took its opportunity. I walk into the living room and sit on the chair, closing my eyes trying not to think back on what happened.  I thought I could get over it but it doesn’t look like it. No one mentions anything else about it. Even though it looks like we have forgotten about it, deep inside our hearts will always remember.

I wake up and shake my head.  I had a nightmare about Uncle Jacob. All I want to do is forget it, but every time I do, he comes back and I can’t run away.  It's like I’m in a dark alley running away, trying to escape what's chasing me. But every time there’s a dead end and I can’t run anymore. I look into the shadowy figure staring at me, into its cold eyes.  Trying to escape my nightmare, I grab the side of the bed and pull myself out of the sheets. I get up and walk in the kitchen. Mom and Helen are still asleep so it’s just my dad and me. I look around and see my dad rationing the food supply and fixing the boarded-up windows. 

While I am munching on my breakfast I hear a Thump Thump then a splash of water. I wonder if it is my dad or a monster, hopefully, it is my dad. I slowly walk to my dad who is hammering some nails into some of the wood on the windows.

“What’s going on?” I ask.

“I’m just doing some work Lara.” he says.

“You sure, because I heard some water over here?” I question.

“I think something just leaked or something,” he mutters.

“You think!?!” I growl.

“It’s fine, it wasn’t that much and I can fix it back.” he apologizes.

He hammers the hole that was letting the water leak through, Thump Thump 

“See, all fixed.” 

But it didn’t seem like it did it.  There are still drops of water coming out of the hole. I look around and see the other window having some drops of water too, and the other one, and another one. Now the door is spewing out water. I know what was going to happen.  I always knew this was going to come; the house is going to flood.
“Get mom and Helen up!” Dad said urgently.

I quickly wake up mom and Helen. Mom runs toward the kitchen and starts packing whatever food we have left. Helen gets up and starts to get ready. Dad and I go to the closet and get out the lifeboat. Water keeps flooding in and before our eyes, it is up to our thighs. I can feel it, the cold bone-chilling water. Everybody runs up to the roof.  My dad and I layout the lifeboat while my mom and Helen set the blankets and food in it. We get on the lifeboat and float away. 

It seems like days on the boat; there is nothing to do. My dad says that we should find land before the sun sets. Our boat is steered by the current towards the southwest. It seems like forever but we find some land. Our boat stops at the edge and we set our supplies down on a hill. There is a tree near the top of the hill and I lay my back against it.  I think to myself that we all miss the breeze of the outside, the fresh air, and the feel of grass again. We soon realize that rain is coming. We see thunderstorm clouds in the distance and look out for shelter; my father goes on foot and looks around. My mom, Helen and I search around, and I spot a cave in the distance. We grab everything and march to the cave.

When I set foot in the cave, it seemed a little unsteady, like it was alive. I take a few more steps and layout the supplies, and I gather some sticks to make a fire.  The bottom of the cave floor seems too moist for me. The cave walls aren’t hard as rocks, but they’re smooth and slippery. 

I look around and notice small black rocks sticking out near the front of the cave.  Before I know it, the blanket of night falls on us, and the storm comes tumbling in. Lightning bolts come and go and the ocean rages on and on.  I asked my dad if we could go deeper into the cave to see if there was any food. But it really wasn’t for that reason, it was mostly because I wanted to explore this odd cave. 

I walk back to the fire and pick up a makeshift torch. I wave the torch in the air watching the ash and smoke make a constellation. I walk to my dad, and we go into the cave.  As we go deeper, the cave is not looking cav-ish now. I see weird large amounts of droopy sticky goo hanging at the roof of the cave. The cave is gradually getting smaller and smaller, and the walls are somehow turning a pink-red color. 

As we explore deeper into the cave, my dad keeps asking me Do you hear that voice? And every time I would say no. My dad doesn’t seem focused; it’s as if something is pulling him, drawing him near. We walk deeper, and we see a woman dressed in a white gown, sitting down on a rock in the middle of a large pool of water with her back turned against us. Her golden blond hair resting on her back and slowly gracing her shoulders.  Her voice is like a spellbinding enchantment; a warm invitation - but I couldn’t hear it fully because her song was meant for my dad. My dad looked mesmerized, and his eyes were fixed on the woman. Suddenly the woman turns to us, and her face is beautiful but pale. Her long blue fishtail dangles by the side of the rock with her flippers in the water. In disbelief, I realize this is not a woman but a siren of ancient myth. She keeps on singing with her charming voice luring my dad closer to the water. 

“Dad!” I warn.

“Uhhhh.” he groans.

I take action and grab onto his wrist pulling him back. I force him to walk away but the magnetic voice of that siren pulls him closer. 

I am scared of the siren’s divine and luring voice and I know I have to do something fast.  I couldn't let what happened to Uncle Jacob happen to my father. I must save him. I scan the room searching for something useful. I see the icky goo hanging down from the ceiling hoping it could work as earplugs. Because the ceiling of the cave is lower, I am able to stand up tall and reach up to melt some of it with the flaming torch.  It drips on my hand. I quickly sprint to my dad who is ten feet away from the siren, and I slob the goo into both of his ears. My dad stares around the room and stops walking towards the siren. The siren screeches and dives into the water and races towards us. She tries to snag my dad with her clawed fingers and reaches for him but misses by a split second as I drag him away. She shrieks out of anger from missing her prey and then dives back into the water and retreats. I look into my father's shocked face filled with awestruck. He realizes everything that just happened and knows what he has done. I point towards where we had walked from showing that we should get back. He nods, and we both run back to the entrance of the cave.

When we reach mom and Helen, we tell them what happened, and we immediately start packing to get out of the cave and find a new destination.  As we walk out, I feel like a hollow shell. I have lost lots of things, my home, Uncle Jacob, and almost my father. I fought for my life and risked everything to come to this point. I realize that in this new world, old mythological creatures exist because humans have reshaped it and opened up the cracks in the oceans allowing the creatures to reinhabit it. And that in order to survive you have to be resilient, resourceful, and brave. 

Honeysuckle. Sweet, sweet, nectar rested on golden flowers. Nothing is quite like it. Pull out a flower, lick the sugary base for a drop of ambrosia, then leave it on the ground to decompose. Everything about it is natural, straight out of the sun and eath. You can even grow it in the yard, water it once a day and have a shot of sugar whenever you want. Incredible.

Blood. Sweet, sweet blood rested on golden flowers. It’s really not unique. Pull out a knife, slice away the edge of the skin, and leave it on the ground for another time. Everything about it is natural, straight out of someone’s body. You can even leave it in the yard, water it once a day and feed your honeysuckle vine whenever you want. Genius.

She wanted to burn that wall.

Large and imposing, it wrapped around Ara like a noose, preventing anyone from coming in — or out. Guards were stationed every three hundred meters and rotated after three hours on patrol.

And she needed to get inside.

She took a deep breath, adjusted the scarf around her face, then walked to the nearest gate. They eyed her, hands reaching for the guns at their belts. She held up her hands as she got closer.

“Who goes there?” one called.

“Lyn Moore, sir,” she responded.

“Where you from?”

“Ryser, sir. About a league west.” She pointed in the direction she’d come from, where large hills of sand lay.

“Papers?” She fumbled for her travel papers from inside her well-worn knapsack and handed them to him. After checking the seal with a magnifying glass, he gave them back and waved her through. “Welcome to Ara.”

She walked down one of the two major roads, reading the once-familiar street names until she got to the fifth one on the right, then turned. Buildings lined both sides of the street, growing more and more rundown as she walked. She stopped at the seventh house on the left and entered without knocking, then into the room on the right. With the exception of a bare light bulb hanging from a wire in the middle of the ceiling, it was empty. She dropped her bag, which made a muffled thump when it hit the ground, and walked over to the back wall, pulling the scarf off and tossing it on the ground. She stopped just past the middle of the wall and rapped on the wall once slow, then three times fast. A rumble sounded somewhere in the ceiling, growing louder as it traveled down until a hidden seam split to reveal an impish face smiling broadly.

"You're here!" he exclaimed and ran over to hug her. She stiffened, arms stuck to her sides. Another boy appeared, frowning, closely followed by a girl.

"I told you not to go, Camron,” he admonished. “You didn’t even check.”

“She did the knock, though!” the boy protested, turning to face him.

“What if she’d been captured and someone tortured it out of her? What if there were Guards waiting for us the minute we showed ourselves? What if—” He stopped when the girl touched his arm gently. He sighed. “Just— check before you go down next time, okay?”

“Fine,” Camron grumbled.

“Good to see you too, Straff,” she smirked at him. He scowled at her.

“You weren’t followed?”

“Of course not.”

“Why are you here?” asked the girl in confusion.

She shrugged. “I felt like I needed to be here,” she said. “How’re things, Tara?”

Tara straightened and snapped to attention. “Same as usual. Your source was good, everything’s been as he said.” She paused. “Where did you find him again?”

“He’s… an old friend,” she said. “From before.” Tara and Straff exchanged a look. She hurried to move on. "Is everything set?"

All three nodded. "The meeting's in an hour,” said Tara, checking her watch. “We’ll leave in forty minutes, which’ll give Straff twenty to set up.”

“Assuming no Guards see me,” he added gloomily.

“They won’t,” she said confidently. “Camron’s made sure of it.”

He nodded. “We got some supporters to create some disturbances a few blocks away. That’ll cut down Guards inside to a manageable level.”

She nodded. “Sounds good. Good work, you three.” They stood a little straighter at the compliment. “Let’s get ready, shall we?” They nodded and went to grab their supplies.

Forty minutes later, they got in the line in front of the city’s old stadium. It was as she’d remembered, but two new buildings — the Guardhouse and Administration — had been built next to it, connected by a long corridor. A Guard looked at their badges and waved them through. “Have fun,” he smirked. They looked at him curiously but he turned away to check the couple behind them. They followed the dark hallway up to the inside of the stadium. When her eyes finally adjusted to the lights, she stopped in her tracks.

The dead were everywhere. Hundreds of bodies were piled around the raised center like steps. More were splayed on top of it, sightless eyes and limbs askew. Camron gagged. Straff looked away. Tara mumbled a prayer under her breath. She walked on and tried to ignore her feet sinking as she climbed.

After a few moments she heard the others follow. They continued across the center and past the standing ground area, then up the stairs to the fourth row. When they turned around, they could see everyone underneath them, both living and dead. They watched as some collapsed at the sight of the dead while others stood, shocked. Eventually they all moved past them, whether on their own or forced by Guards. Soon the arena was filled with people, although it wasn’t as packed as she’d imagined.

They quieted once he appeared. Dressed head to toe in black and carrying an onyx staff, he commanded an opposing presence. She felt a sense of dread wash over her. It had been three years since she’d last seen him. Since she’d called him a traitor and left with a bullet in her shoulder and a squadron at her heels.

He didn’t look any different. Same dark hair. Same thin frame. She couldn’t see his eyes, but she remembered his gaze all too well: that intense stare made more unsettling by two mismatched eyes, dark brown and jade green. He turned toward them and she gasped. He saw her, she was sure of it. He didn’t react, but he knew. Straff glanced at her in question, and she hurried to recompose herself before nodding once. He nodded back and went back down into the crowd. She tried to put it out of her mind. She needed to focus on the mission.

“Is that him?” Camron whispered in her ear.

She jolted, then said, “What?”

He pointed. “Konnor! That’s him?” She nodded.

The three of them watched as he got to the center of the auditorium, kicking bodies leisurely out of the way. He paused, then stretched his arms out wide.

“Hello, my people!” he cried, and the crowd roared in return. He waited until they quieted a bit before speaking.

“Four years ago, the world as it once was ended. We descended into chaos, and while other cities eventually found order, we remained in darkness. Ara was a wreck. A slum. A City of Vice.” Mutters came from the crowd at the reminder of the city's unsavory past. “But then hope emerged when three young individuals came forth with a vision. One that would save Ara.

“And look at it now!” he cried, sweeping his arms out. “Our streets are clean. We have food and clean water. Guards keep the peace on the streets.” They all shared a look at that. “Ara has come so far from that pit of filth that it once was.

“But,” he said, “this all wouldn’t have come about if not for one special person.” He looked about theatrically. “In fact, I do believe she’s here today.” Her stomach dropped. Surely he didn’t mean—

“People of Ara, I give you… Lynnea Mason!” Suddenly there were hands pulling her down toward the center of the stage. She looked back only to see Tara and Camron being held back by Guards, with more blocking the stairs. People stared at her as she was brought to Konnor, who stood at the foot of the stairs. Waiting.

Now that she was closer she could see the differences. His face was sharper, his cheekbones more pronounced, and he had a new scar that traveled across his right cheek to his ear. But the rest, especially his eyes, were the same. He pinned her with that stare as he closed the distance and hugged her tightly. In her ear he whispered, “Don’t speak or I’ll have your friends killed.” She nodded. He stepped back and they moved toward the center, holding each other’s hands.

“This, ladies and gentlemen, is the brilliant mind behind it all. She and our friend, now Principal of Commerce, Ronin Graves, approached me with a plan to change Ara. I admit, I was skeptical at first. But I agreed, and slowly we worked to form order within the calamity.

“But we’re not finished yet. We have improved, but I still see potential. We can grow to make Ara a force to be reckoned with. Greater than the other cities, greater than the countries of old. And it all begins today. Behold the sacrifice we have made!” He pointed at the ground and she finally understood why the bodies were there.

“You didn’t,” she breathed, forgetting to keep silent. He, wrapped up in his moment, didn’t notice.

“These people were weak. Unnecessary. Toxic to our society. And with their deaths we will build to make ourselves stronger.” Once silent, the crowd erupted with protests, but were quickly quieted by Guards. “Their bones will be the foundation of a new empire! And we will finally be—”

The section to their right exploded. People began to scream and scattered as more stands erupted around them. Konnor whipped around to look at her. “What did you do?” he demanded. She only smiled. He strode toward her with fury in his eyes, grabbed her shoulders and shook her, almost lifting her off the ground. “What did you do?” The ground was exploding, raining debris and chaos. People fled out of the arena, screaming. “You piece of trash,” he snarled. She still said nothing. ‘I did this for you, you know. Your ‘dream’ to change Ara for the better. You said you couldn’t do it without me, so I helped you. I did it, and this is how you repay me?”

“This isn’t what I wanted, Konnor,” she said quietly. He stopped shaking her. “Yes, this might have started out as my idea, but it became yours when you stopped consulting us. Ronin and I wanted a clean revolution. You wanted blood. You caused the riots. You created the Guard. You tried to kill me when I spoke up, and ran me out when you couldn’t. You took my dream and twisted it into this… this hell.” She stepped forward and he moved back, flinching as another bomb erupted. “And now I’m doing the same to you.”

She left him there in what remained of the stadium and went to the western gate, the same way she’d entered only hours before. Camron and Tara were there when she arrived, and Straff showed up not too long after. They waited as people rushed around in chaos. Some saluted or raised a hand at them as they ran past, carrying torches. Supporters, she supposed.

Soon a figure in a hooded cloak approached them. She stiffened as they came closer, fingering the small gun in her sleeve.

“Are you the Uprisers?” he asked.

“Who’s asking?” said Straff.

The figure pushed his hood back, revealing a familiar face. She relaxed and let out a breath. “Ronin.” When the others looked at her in confusion, she clarified, “Source.”

“Hey, Lyn,” he said and smiled a bit. He removed a small pouch from inside his cloak and tossed it to her. She opened it, making sure it was all there before nodding toward the others.

“Thanks,” she said.

He shrugged and made as if about to leave, then hesitated. “You gonna stick around? You could help me. It was your dream in the first place, after all.”

She paused. This was her town, her people. Her plan to make it better. She could go. Accomplish what she and Konnor tried to do before he betrayed her. Then she glanced at the other three watching her and Ronin and let out a breath. “I’ve found a new place.”

He shrugged and said, “Suit yourself.” He smirked. “I’ll put in a good word for you to… others.” He saluted and left to claim the recently vacated throne.

They watched him until he disappeared in the distance. After a few moments Camron spoke up.

“So… back to Ryser?”

She nodded. Back to Ryser.

They slipped out of the gate with ease — the Guards were busy with the people — and began running over the sandy hills to the city. There, they would wait until someone else contacted them in need of a quick revolution.

She turned around once. Fires had erupted across the city, black smoke disrupting the blank orange sky. She could imagine Konnor’s expression as he realized that his precious “kingdom” was falling apart around him.

“Lyn!” Tara called, the others almost over the next hill. She looked for one moment more, then turned and ran to catch up.

A flash of light

Bright colors

Dancing 

On the surface

A snack!

I flick my tail

And swim

To the tantalizing corn

And glitters that float

Opening my toothless moth

I swallow the corn whole

It’s sweet

And a little bit sharp

I feel a tug on the roof of my mouth

A needle piercing my skull

Flighing me upward

Faster than one should ever swim

Then I’m flying

Freedom

Comes at the price

Of the hook in my mouth

The air 

Is hot.

I can’t breathe

I swing 

Back and 

Forth

My

Head

hurts

And

I 

Ca

n't--

Due to climate change, the world’s oceans are rising, cities are collapsing, forests and deserts are being flooded. As the sea levels rise and destroy everything in their path, the trenches of the ocean crack open.  Monsters and giant old creatures like the Kraken, the Leviathan, hydras, and giant sea serpents of the deep come out looking for food. They eat animals such as sharks, whales, and large land animals. But with that, they are still hungry. At night the monsters of lore look for humans, searching for them. And when they find them they gobble them up in one snap, as the smell of blood fills the water and air causing more terrifying creatures to chase. No human knows what to do. Scientists believe it is the end of all humanity and that humans are paying the price for their mistakes. 

Everybody wants to survive, and people take shelter in high places.  Individual families pack and hike up mountains. My family still lives in the city because we thought we could survive. But now we realize that it was a terrible decision. Every day the water rises. My family and I are still in our house; the water is about halfway to our house.  We ration our food and build layer upon layer of wood and metal on the walls and windows, so no water would trespass in. Every night we build a campfire in our living room hoping to scare off the giant creatures; sometimes it works, and sometimes it doesn’t. We hear big thumps and moans and unusual weird sounds every night we try to go to sleep. We cuddle against the fire keeping warm, regretting that we should’ve fled like the rest of the city and taken high ground. But instead, we are holding onto our hope as we slowly fall asleep.                                                                                             

I woke up to a loud moaning and thumping. Probably from the monsters I thought. I rolled out of my blanket and raised my head. It is still night; the moon is blaring right through the boarded-up windows. I look around to see if everyone else is still asleep, mom, dad, Helen, and Uncle Jacob-wait where is Uncle Jacob? I turn my head and search for him. I check all the rooms. He isn’t anywhere; he must be outside. I know there is only one place in the house where you could go outside without water trying to swallow you whole, the roof.

I go to the attic and pull down a string from the ceiling. I climb on the old stairs and march up. When I open the door a strong breeze takes hold of me.  The smell of the ocean passes right through me like a ghost, and hundreds of miles of ocean lay upon me. The moon shines on the water as a smudgy wavy reflection, and right there I see Uncle Jacob, sitting there staring at the sky. I walked towards him making a loud CRUNCH every step I took. I got closer and closer until I could almost hear his breathing. 

Uncle Jacob is very nice and kind. He treats people with respect and honesty. His words are like a piper and a flute. They flow out gently and soft but can be jazzy and funky. His face is always filled with laughter and joy, but now it seems like something has smacked all of that away. His eyes are a dark blue and sparkly, but his eyes look a little paler and have gotten to a light shadish blue, and his sparkly twinkle in his eyes are gone. It’s as if something has drained the life out of him. He turns to me, staring at me like I’m a statue.

“Why are you up this late Lara?” Uncle Jacob whispers.

“I woke up from the monsters, what are you doing out here?” I ask.

“I don’t know, it seems like we have been stuck in that house for too long, I just want this all to end.” Uncle Jacob answers.

“Me too?”

“Yes, that would be good.” He mutters.

This is getting uneasy. It’s like he is just a shadow-like he’s never really there. He stops the conversation from there.  Everything is quiet and still. I stare at the water watching my reflection. All I see is me and the deep dark water surrounding me, knowing that death lurks in there. I stare at the water, like there is something else, like a warning my brain is trying to tell me, warning me to stay away and go back inside. I stare at the water some more and see a ripple. A ripple? Out here? It is the middle of the night, what could there be? 

I stare at the water more closely, and out of nowhere a scaly, dark green, gigantic sea serpent jumps out and aims towards me.  I scream and dodge it. Uncle Jacob gets up and yells for me to get out of here and take shelter inside the house. My heart is beating faster as I get up and sprint towards the door to the attic. The serpent slips back into the water and Uncle Jacob runs back to the attic door.  

“COME ON!” I yell.

He sprints and when he is a foot away, the monster shoots out like a bullet, grabs ahold of him, and tightly wraps itself around him.

“NOOOOOO!” I scream.

The serpent twists and turns, tearing him part by part and drags him into the deep black water. Blood is splattered all over me. I run back into the attic, shut the door tightly and collapse, millions of tears coming down like a heavy storm. I squeeze my hands into fists and wrap myself with my arms. I sit there crying my heart out. 

After the attic floor is soaked up with my tears, I slowly walk out.  My footsteps carrying out the loss I just saw. I walk into the living room. My mom and dad are praying and muttering to themselves if I’m still alive. I take a few steps more and they quickly turn to me. Their faces mix with emotions of relief, happiness, and surprise. They run towards me trying to hug me.  I don’t say anything. I just drink some water, take some bites of food and go upstairs to change. I come back down feeling powerless and hopeless. I did nothing for my Uncle, just stood there and watched it all happen. As his life was stripped away, death took its opportunity. I walk into the living room and sit on the chair, closing my eyes trying not to think back on what happened.  I thought I could get over it but it doesn’t look like it. No one mentions anything else about it. Even though it looks like we have forgotten about it, deep inside our hearts will always remember.

I wake up and shake my head.  I had a nightmare about Uncle Jacob. All I want to do is forget it, but every time I do, he comes back and I can’t run away.  It's like I’m in a dark alley running away, trying to escape what's chasing me. But every time there’s a dead end and I can’t run anymore. I look into the shadowy figure staring at me, into its cold eyes.  Trying to escape my nightmare, I grab the side of the bed and pull myself out of the sheets. I get up and walk in the kitchen. Mom and Helen are still asleep so it’s just my dad and me. I look around and see my dad rationing the food supply and fixing the boarded-up windows. 

While I am munching on my breakfast I hear a Thump Thump then a splash of water. I wonder if it is my dad or a monster, hopefully, it is my dad. I slowly walk to my dad who is hammering some nails into some of the wood on the windows.

“What’s going on?” I ask.

“I’m just doing some work Lara.” he says.

“You sure, because I heard some water over here?” I question.

“I think something just leaked or something,” he mutters.

“You think!?!” I growl.

“It’s fine, it wasn’t that much and I can fix it back.” he apologizes.

He hammers the hole that was letting the water leak through, Thump Thump 

“See, all fixed.” 

But it didn’t seem like it did it.  There are still drops of water coming out of the hole. I look around and see the other window having some drops of water too, and the other one, and another one. Now the door is spewing out water. I know what was going to happen.  I always knew this was going to come; the house is going to flood.
“Get mom and Helen up!” Dad said urgently.

I quickly wake up mom and Helen. Mom runs toward the kitchen and starts packing whatever food we have left. Helen gets up and starts to get ready. Dad and I go to the closet and get out the lifeboat. Water keeps flooding in and before our eyes, it is up to our thighs. I can feel it, the cold bone-chilling water. Everybody runs up to the roof.  My dad and I layout the lifeboat while my mom and Helen set the blankets and food in it. We get on the lifeboat and float away. 

It seems like days on the boat; there is nothing to do. My dad says that we should find land before the sun sets. Our boat is steered by the current towards the southwest. It seems like forever but we find some land. Our boat stops at the edge and we set our supplies down on a hill. There is a tree near the top of the hill and I lay my back against it.  I think to myself that we all miss the breeze of the outside, the fresh air, and the feel of grass again. We soon realize that rain is coming. We see thunderstorm clouds in the distance and look out for shelter; my father goes on foot and looks around. My mom, Helen and I search around, and I spot a cave in the distance. We grab everything and march to the cave.

When I set foot in the cave, it seemed a little unsteady, like it was alive. I take a few more steps and layout the supplies, and I gather some sticks to make a fire.  The bottom of the cave floor seems too moist for me. The cave walls aren’t hard as rocks, but they’re smooth and slippery. 

I look around and notice small black rocks sticking out near the front of the cave.  Before I know it, the blanket of night falls on us, and the storm comes tumbling in. Lightning bolts come and go and the ocean rages on and on.  I asked my dad if we could go deeper into the cave to see if there was any food. But it really wasn’t for that reason, it was mostly because I wanted to explore this odd cave. 

I walk back to the fire and pick up a makeshift torch. I wave the torch in the air watching the ash and smoke make a constellation. I walk to my dad, and we go into the cave.  As we go deeper, the cave is not looking cav-ish now. I see weird large amounts of droopy sticky goo hanging at the roof of the cave. The cave is gradually getting smaller and smaller, and the walls are somehow turning a pink-red color. 

As we explore deeper into the cave, my dad keeps asking me Do you hear that voice? And every time I would say no. My dad doesn’t seem focused; it’s as if something is pulling him, drawing him near. We walk deeper, and we see a woman dressed in a white gown, sitting down on a rock in the middle of a large pool of water with her back turned against us. Her golden blond hair resting on her back and slowly gracing her shoulders.  Her voice is like a spellbinding enchantment; a warm invitation - but I couldn’t hear it fully because her song was meant for my dad. My dad looked mesmerized, and his eyes were fixed on the woman. Suddenly the woman turns to us, and her face is beautiful but pale. Her long blue fishtail dangles by the side of the rock with her flippers in the water. In disbelief, I realize this is not a woman but a siren of ancient myth. She keeps on singing with her charming voice luring my dad closer to the water. 

“Dad!” I warn.

“Uhhhh.” he groans.

I take action and grab onto his wrist pulling him back. I force him to walk away but the magnetic voice of that siren pulls him closer. 

I am scared of the siren’s divine and luring voice and I know I have to do something fast.  I couldn't let what happened to Uncle Jacob happen to my father. I must save him. I scan the room searching for something useful. I see the icky goo hanging down from the ceiling hoping it could work as earplugs. Because the ceiling of the cave is lower, I am able to stand up tall and reach up to melt some of it with the flaming torch.  It drips on my hand. I quickly sprint to my dad who is ten feet away from the siren, and I slob the goo into both of his ears. My dad stares around the room and stops walking towards the siren. The siren screeches and dives into the water and races towards us. She tries to snag my dad with her clawed fingers and reaches for him but misses by a split second as I drag him away. She shrieks out of anger from missing her prey and then dives back into the water and retreats. I look into my father's shocked face filled with awestruck. He realizes everything that just happened and knows what he has done. I point towards where we had walked from showing that we should get back. He nods, and we both run back to the entrance of the cave.

When we reach mom and Helen, we tell them what happened, and we immediately start packing to get out of the cave and find a new destination.  As we walk out, I feel like a hollow shell. I have lost lots of things, my home, Uncle Jacob, and almost my father. I fought for my life and risked everything to come to this point. I realize that in this new world, old mythological creatures exist because humans have reshaped it and opened up the cracks in the oceans allowing the creatures to reinhabit it. And that in order to survive you have to be resilient, resourceful, and brave. 

Raina was a kind hearted person who had quite a dark past. Despite her charming and forgiving personality, people could not look past the red mark of her grades. To her peers, grades defined who someone was as a person. Despite her efforts, Raina could not seem to do anything to stop the torment that would occur every time she simply walked down the hall. She was bombarded by derogatory names everywhere she went. She was determined to overcome her tainted image and studied to the best of her capabilities. But no matter how hard she tried, she still ended her senior year of high school with a considerably low grade point average, a bad reputation, and an even lower self esteem.

Once she started college, she began looking up again. Her hope did not last very long as the taunting began once again. It appeared that no matter where she tried to escape, her past would follow. Somehow, in the midst of the relentless taunting, she was able to find the love of her life. Ryan was someone who was able to look past her flaws and cared more about Raina as a person, which was a first for her. Ryan gave her everything she could have ever wanted: comfort, affection, etc. But most importantly, he gave her unconditional support. Her usual luminescent smile came back and she started finding new friends. Of course she would occasionally come across people from her old school who would taunt her, but she did not let them deter her because now, she had Ryan. Then, things abruptly started going downhill.

The love of her life met his demise in a fatal car accident that left her as a single mother. The people she thought were her friends fell for the rumors that had once consumed Raina in her high school years. She lost everything she once treasured and spiraled into a state of depression. But there was one thing that she still had in her life that she would not allow anyone to taint or take from her… her unborn child. Despite the tragedy that it reminded her of, Raina was determined to give her child the life that she wished she could have. But how could she possibly go on without Ryan by her side?

In her state of depression, Raina somehow found someone that she could trust and rely on (platonically of course). Just like a phoenix, Raina was able to rise yet again, but this time with Jessica by her side. Jessica was someone who was just as kindhearted as Raina. It was easy to see the bond the two shared (coincidentally, the two friends were pregnant as well). They were there for each other through thick and thin. With their heads held high, they continued forward with happiness in their hearts and hope for the future. Even after both of their children were delivered, they spent almost all of their time together. 

Eventually, the children became the best of friends and did everything together as well. Whether it was high school classes, tutors, or extracurriculars, they did it with one another. Raina was glad that she had met Jessica and that their children had formed such a great bond. She reminisced of the past with a smile on her face. When the children were seniors in high school, Raina came upon an opportunity that no one could possibly pass up. 

Raina was simply walking down the sidewalk when she witnessed a man trip and drop all his things. Being the good samaritan she was, Raina helped him up and went to the extent of handing him all of his dropped papers. However, it just so happened that the man was part of the college board and tipped her off about what the colleges were looking for in an application that would, without a doubt, get anyone into the college of their dreams. 

After the entire incident, the first person that came to mind was Jessica, but Raina began to have doubts. Jessica was her best friend and all, but she was overly kind and would most likely end up telling everyone she knew about the unmissable opportunity. On the other hand, with this information, Raina’s son would be able to get into any prestigious college, but at what cost?

If Raina did end up telling her son and not Jessica, then he could potentially lose a close friend similar to how she lost her own. She could also end up losing Jessica, and she did not want to go through unnecessary heartbreak yet again. What is more important? Bonds or future opportunities? If not keeping it to herself, telling Jessica would result in less opportunity for her own son, but better bonds that he would cherish for the rest of his life. After several hours of contemplating her options, Raina was finally able to make a decision. She picked up her phone with great haste, and called… 

So what did she choose? Friend, or family?

Grandma Pendergrass was on the bongos. Brother Mayfield, the violin. I watched as my brothers and sisters sang together, harmonizing in the light of the fire. My parents, arm in arm, accompanied joyfully, sitting on a fallen log. I couldn’t help but smile from ear to ear as I felt the intonations of my family and gave my voice to them. The shimmer of the stars and the stir of the evergreens wrapped around my people wonderfully, squeezing us tight in their embrace. I’d never seen my family so happy. 

“This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine!” we chimed. 

“This little light of mine, oh, I’m gonna let it shine!” 

As I looked around the many figures of my family, I noticed Uncle Archie sitting alone on a rock. He sat just away from the light of the fire to be encapsulated in the darkness of the forest that reached into and past all directions of the horizon. His face was buried in his hands and his hair was ruffled, unkempt. Boy, did he look lost. I was never that close to Archie because he was always working and rarely came to visit. Back then, he usually was clear-headed and well-kept. I wonder what happened. That was, of course, when we lived in the city. But ever since we started traversing the woods, Archie’s been down in the dumps. 

The reverse of his scenario is my parents. They were both so very sad in the city. My dad would come home and his eyes would be so dark and his face always drooping down. They would never talk, then. 

I don’t really understand their situation but I’ve been having so much fun ever since we left and started journeying into the unknown. At first, I hated not having my MapFriend and my BezosBook. First off, navigating the megalopolis without the MapFriend chip installed in my wrist was terrifying. I never realized how much I relied on that thing to know where I was until I didn’t have it and found myself in the wrong alley full of Nakeds. That’s what we used to call people without technology because they were supposedly dangerous. But now, they don’t seem so bad seeing as my family’s a bunch of Nakeds who aren’t glued to the screens of their BezosBooks.

After some months in the forest, I’ve found my eyes glued to the mountains and the eagles; And my ears glued to the voices of the forest and my family. 

Before I knew it, this contemplation had carried me through the singing ritual before bed and now everyone was chattering quietly, walking back to their tents. I stood up and felt the soft, heavy hand of Ole’ Duke as he ruffled my hair. 

“How you doing, champ?” he said gently.

“Just fine, Duke! I was wondering if I could look up at the stars a little longer.”

“Of course, Stevie. That’s what they’re there for, right?” he sincerely assured, looking deep into my eyes. Man did I love Ole’ Duke. He was my Great Grandfather and he’s always been so delightful to everyone—Truly resonating that image of the kind old man. He was the main leader of our tribe and the main reason we left the overbearing city. He showed us what it really meant to relax.

As I leaned back onto the surprisingly ice-cold ground, I noticed Duke walk away towards the darkness, where Archie had been. Curiosity had taken me and I flipped over on my stomach to crawl towards the darkness. I hid behind one of the fallen logs and listened intently to Duke’s meeting with Archie.

“Archie. I know where your mind is, and I can’t imagine the amount of anxiety you must feel in your heart, and in your mind. But listen to me, my boy, for I only want the best for you. Yes, we’re convicts of the state, but we do have privileges. Remember that even if they find us, or actually when they find us, that they can’t truly punish us because we’re related to the Emperor’s high council.”

“Grandpa, I can’t stand this anymore! My legs are absolutely worn out and I don’t want to keep running!”

“That is why we’ve stopped running, son. We’ve settled here for the last three days. We’re not going anywhere.”

“So they’re going to find us regardless?!” Archie replied, horrified.

“Well, of course, they will, they always do. Archie, the point of us leaving the city wasn’t to start new lives. It was to see what it can be like.”

“What are you talking about?” Archie inquired steadily.

“What it’s like living without all our human anxieties—Without our manufactured fears, obligations, wants, and worries. This journey was to let go of the pressures that make life painful and to explore what makes it natural and good.”

“Grandpa,” Archie asserted, “the point of civilization is to reduce such things. Why do you think ever since we’ve escaped all most of us can think about is food and fatigue?”

“Yes. I do see that. But don’t they always come? Don’t we always make it in the end?”

“How could you say that? Just because an outcome can seem probable doesn’t mean that the process is at all enjoyable!”

“Archie, relax. There will come a time when you realize that the advancements of our technology-dictated world have outdone the benefits and stalled into greater troubles.”

“Technology was what got me a house with air-conditioning!”

“Technology was what brought you a small room in a fifty-floor grey box and with it, the obligations to pay for things you don’t need. Archie. Take a breath. Breathe in the air like it’s a fine wine and really see the trees. How long has it been since you’ve seen the trees?”

With that, Ole’ Duke left Archie in his thoughts. I heard his footsteps fade off into the direction of the tents. I knew that convicts were bad people but I think Duke was just joking. 

After some time, Archie had taken my previous task and was staring up at the stars. He did this for quite some time, as I did too. Then, two figures walked over to Duke, I couldn’t make out who they were until they spoke. 

“Hey Archie, how ya’ feeling?”

Brother Mayfield.

“We saw you looking more stressed than usual.”

Sister Ross.

“I,” Archie hesitated, “I guess I was losing a battle in my mind.”

“Well that was me when we began this whole thing, but then I realized how to win every single battle in my thoughts.” Brother Mayfield said.

“How?”

“You turn your thoughts off,” Sister Ross answered.

“I can’t just do that, I overthink everything.”

“Well if you can’t you just ignore your brain till it starts to shut up. And then allow room for your feelings. For me, I couldn’t stand the thought of leaving my job. But then I realized just how much it meant in the grand scheme of things,” Brother Mayfield paused, “Absolutely nothing. It was just a thing I did to get more things so that I could keep doing that thing to continue the cycle. Honestly, after a couple of days, the branches on the trees and the tweets of the birds seemed more important than the monotony of that life.”

They sat there in silence.

“The best thing to do is to take deep breaths and let anxieties flow out of you. We could all do it together and just look at the stars.” Sister Ross exclaimed.

“Guys, I appreciate it but I just don’t think stuff like this could possibly work to clear my mind.”

“Well, that’s a thought we’re about to get rid of. Come on, let’s just lay down and gaze.” Brother Mayfield replied. 

Archie groaned softly as his family members took him down to the ground. I heard them heaving slowly but surely, counting their breaths. After a while, I joined them behind my log. One long breath. In. And out. 

As I looked up, the stars glimmered brighter. 

In. And out. 

The beautiful howls of the trees as the wind blew threw them.

In. And out. 

The encircling comfort and love from the silhouettes of the mountains. 

In. And out. 

The overwhelming love for my family and the Earth.

My eyes began to close and I felt a daze growing onto me. A perfect sleep awaits. 

“Stevie? What’re you doing by this log, bud?” Sister Ross’s motherly voice embraced me as I slipped back into consciousness, Sister Ross standing over me.

“Stevie, you little rascal. You wanna join us before we go to sleep? We were just humming some tunes,” She asked. 

“I’d love to!” I replied.

Then all of a sudden I found myself sitting in the dark with my older figures, singing songs of a forgotten age as the rest of my family slept. In the moonlight, I could tell that Archie was finally smiling. He gave resonance to our hum that was mature and lovely, adding the perfect finish. 

“This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine!”

There is such a profound amount of love I felt for my brothers and sisters at this moment. An intimate calling for the voice. An escape from human necessity. Finding what it means to be human after escaping humanity. Such love puts a boy to sleep as it did. I fell asleep into Archie’s lap and there went the rest of my night. 

I awoke a few hours later to the sound of sirens and an echoey voice calling from the sky. The roof of our tent was flashing with the many lights illuminating it. Still, in my daze, I could just make out my parents gently waking up my older brother. Not yelling. Just waking him up. Then as we climbed out of our tent I saw what was happening. 

The sky was filled with several immense, floating copters each the size of a yacht. Bright red lights flashed all around our camp and into our faces, rudely. The many propellers shook the trees and everything away, causing great winds. My parents, as well as the other adults, rounded us up calmly and gently in the center of our camp for the flying hawks. After forced listening, I could finally make out the repetitive sky declarations.

“FAMILY T-338 OF QUADRANT 62.3, YOU HAVE ABANDONED YOUR ADORNMENTS AND PROPERTY WITHOUT REQUEST. YOU WILL BE TAKEN BACK IMMEDIATELY AND SHOWN HOW TO PUT BACK YOUR WRIST CHIPS. ANY FURTHER ABANDONMENT ACTIONS LIKE THIS WILL RESULT IN TERMINATION.”

I stood next to my brother and my cousins. The adults stood in front of us and we all watched as the helicopters landed in the clearing. Then, armed men in black combat gear came to us and grabbed our wrists and pushed us, in lines. They counted us off and treated us like farm animals. 

Archie began singing.

“This little light of mine, oh, I’m gonna let it shine!” he crooned. I looked over, seeing the man totally content, eyes closed, and head high in the sky. 

“Let it shine! Let it shine!” He continued. 

His voice was infectious. Soon I began singing with him and so did my parents. Soon we were all singing our family song as strange men looked wide-eyed at us as they threw us into helicopters. We walked away from our camp and into metal atrocities, still humming. 

Archie was commandeered and pushed around but nothing could break his voice. Nothing but the overbearing sound of the helicopters as the doors shut. Even though I couldn’t hear him, I knew he was still singing. That’s all that mattered. They could never stop our singing. It was the last thing we had and we would carry it to the grave. The sounds of our souls could never be tamed and our spirits are as free as our minds allow it. We finally realized the importance of our own voices.

“Honey get up!” I rub my eyes moaning not wanting to get out of bed. I strip the soft comforter off my body in an attempt to wake up. I hear soft patters as somebody walks towards my room, their footsteps like a lullaby. “Annie now,” mom says as I swing my feet over the edge of the bed slipping on my bunny slippers. 

It’s the last week of school before spring break and I’m so excited. The only bad thing is the corona outbreak. It’s on every news source and everybody is talking about it, but I try to ignore it. 

I rummage through my closet looking for a good outfit and as I pull it out Jessie my sister who has Crohn’s disease comes in like an eagle, swooping the clothes right out of my hands. She runs and I run after her but she’s way faster than me. I stop, catching my breath yelling at her to give it back. I sigh and go back to my room giving up on ever getting that back.

I slip on some leggings and a sweatshirt and head out the door. Mom’s already waiting for me downstairs with a lunch packed and ready to go. I grab the ugly brown paper bag and smoosh it into my backpack along with my crinkled science homework and pick up my tinted white shoes. 

“Have a great day at school I love you” she says in a sing-songy voice.

“Love you too,” I mumble back. 

The soft breeze is cold and harsh on my face making me shiver. It’s a gloomy day and everything and everyone seems less colorful. I wait for the light to turn green and when it does I rush to the other side not wanting to miss the bus. I cross over to the parking lot and climb up the steps of the bus and everyone is staring at me as I enter. People whisper and look at each other but I don’t mind. I take a seat next to Frankie, my best friend but she backs up against the side of the bus wall. 

“What’s the matter with you” I joke but she looks at me like I’ve just sworn at her.

“Did you not hear about your next-door neighbor dying of the coronavirus.” She snaps back. I immediately understand why everyone was staring at me, they think I have it. I look down not in the mood to talk anymore. 

As I exit the bus I hear someone cough behind me. Everyone including the bus driver looks over to where it came from. Jenny Gawronski, first case of interrogation.

____________________________________________________________________________

1 week later 

28 students have gotten the coronavirus in school and 4 have died. Everybody has been under quarantine and we don’t know what’s going to happen next. Frankie blocked me on all social media platforms and I’m scared of what could come. Anyone could get it; it's only a matter of time till it gets all around the world.

“Mom I’m scared.” I whimper to mom as we cuddle around the fire with 2 cups of hot chocolate. She turns on the tv to a news channel and the news person has a sad depressed expression on his face and I knew what he was about to say wasn’t good.

“There are 102,472 total coronavirus cases globally as of today and numerous people have died, make sure to wash your hands and keep your hands away from your face and try to have little or no contact with others that could be at risk.” 

As he finishes his sentence I hear a ringing in my ear like someone is trying to tell me something, like it’s a sign.

“Do you hear that?” I say hesitantly looking into my hot chocolate mug that I made in fourth grade that’s all decorated with glitter.

“Hear what?” she replies worriedly

“Nevermind,” I say almost immediately knowing this fright was making me imagine things.

“What’s going to happen?” I ask mom who’s face is as pale as a ghost and has a worried and shocked facial expression.

When she tries to speak she makes no sound and I can tell something is bothering her, but I don’t know what. I ask her again and again but she doesn’t speak. 

She finally says “I’m going to sleep.” She gets up and walks upstairs. As I try to get up my legs feel like cooked spaghetti and the back of my throat is dry.

I don’t get any sleep and I can’t stop thinking about what might happen. I keep thinking what if this is it. I shiver not wanting to feel this, like this might be my last moments thinking I could lose someone I love and even the thought makes me feel weak like I have no power.

In the morning I walk up to mom’s room but I stop in my tracks when I hear her soft sobbing and I can just imagine how scary this is for her. I then check on Jessie who is coughing. I panic not knowing what to do, knowing this could be the thing I dreaded. 

I run to mom’s room as fast as I can and swing open the door. She turns around wiping her tears with the sleeve of her sweater. 

“What’s wrong?” She exclaims as she sees my astonished face. All I can say is “Jessie,” but as soon as she hears it she knows. She gets up from her bed which makes a creaking sound and runs for the door slamming it shut as she exits.

“Call 911 now” she almost screams as we run for Jessie’s room. I dial it up and as it rings I just want the person to answer.

“Hello, what’s your emergency,” the person on the other line says calmly

and as soon as she does I start talking. “We’ll be right there but don’t go near the patient.” I hang up and run the rest of the way to the room. 

I don’t go in but the door is wide open I tell mom to get out of the room but she ignores me. I hear sirens coming our way and I keep telling mom to get out of the room.

 I hear a hard bang on the door and rush downstairs almost stumbling on the stairs and I can hear mom with Jessie following close behind me. I open the door to see a tall muscular man with a gurney. Mom lays Jessie on it and tells me to stay at the house to watch over everything. I wave goodbye and close the door with all my hopes on the other side.

*Ring* It’s the house phone. I don’t recognize the number but I pick up the phone anyways. “Hello….” I cautioned not knowing who I’m talking to for all I know it could be a serial killer.

“Hello, this is mayo clinic calling about your sister and mom, we are still observing them but they seem to be doing fine.” An older lady says and I am so relieved

“Thank you so much,” I rejoiced letting out a breath, yet I knew this wasn’t it.

“Of course and if you seem to be getting any symptoms call us immediately, Ok?.”

“Ok, Bye.”

“Goodbye.”

I hang up and put the phone back on the stand and do a little dance. I was so happy. 

The next day

I wake up to the phone ringing and I rush to pick it up. It’s the same number so I know it’s the doctors office. I pick up the phone and I hear a murmuring of doctor’s. Finally, one picks up in a cheery voice and start’s to talk about how they did everything they could, but I couldn’t believe it. I feel the soft trickle of my own tears on my face. Each salty water droplet falling to the ground. 

I hang up not willing to hear another word. I think of all the memories Jessie and I could have made or all the hugs I could’ve given mom, all gone like it was trash day and all the things I could have done with them were in the dumpster. 

I wake up a mess on the couch with the pillow I slept on having a small puddle of tears. When all the memories flood back to me I feel a heaviness in my chest that pulls me down. I curl up on the floor wondering how I’m going to get by, all by myself. I try to keep a positive attitude and stay calm but everything seems so different. All of a sudden I start to get a headache and I hear the ringing in my ear again, the same ringing from the news. I decide to lie down and the couch feels squishy and cooling like a cloud. As I drift asleep the ringing continues.

Startled I wake up to the sound of a siren, blaring in my ears filling them with unwanted noise. I definitely am not in the living room on the couch. I sit up my eyes wide open searching for anything to tell me where I am. I zip around like a bee and I see bars. What did I do I wonder as a person with lots of keys walks up to me.

“You were supposed to be up an hour ago get moving.” He says forcefully which commends me to get up. 

“What do I d….” He cuts me off mid-sentence and says No questions. 

He unlocks the bar doors escorting me to a huge area but we keep walking to another room where he tells another guy in a suit that we're all here. Who’s we and what’s happening. My mind keeps wandering and I’m not sure what to do. The guy in the suit opens a sliding door into another huge room, where someone over the intercom starts talking.

“Five color groups, each of you will be put to the test in a battle of the best, you are a survivor, act like one.” The voice over the intercom is deep and loud giving me a sharp headache. My clothes are ripped to shreds and my hair is as greasy as snakes and I’m not the only one. There are thousands of people all around me in different color shirts in lines, being poked and prodded by people in yellow hazmat suits, and I’m next in line. As a tall slender man approaches me I shuffle backward, banging into somebody behind me. I whip around seeing who I knocked into. 

It’s a small girl with a blue shirt on, twirling her dark brown hair in her fingers. She seems distracted and didn’t even notice I bumped into her. I look down at my own shirt that’s blood red and soaked in my buckets of sweat or what seems like it. What does this all mean I think not wanting to speak to anyone. The guy in the hazmat suit turns me around looking into my eyes. “She’s a good one.” He whispers to another guy but of course, I can hear it. My head Is spinning and I don’t remember anything from before. All I know is I’m just a person in a huge group of people.

I look around the vast room feeling like I’m in an ocean of people crowding around me. I spot others in red shirts but I make no eye contact with others. The room seems so quiet and I can just feel people’s eyes gazing into me looking me up and down.

The voice over the intercom comes again “Everyone assemble.” It screeches so loud I feel like my eardrums are gonna fall off. Everyone starts to move around and I can see color groups start to form. Green, Blue, Red, Yellow, and Orange each group so diverse. 

As I take everything in, I start to move, heading towards my color group, getting sucked in, feeling alone. Everything is a blur but I feel like there’s something lingering. People start to converse but I don’t move, it feels like I’m concreted to the ground unable to even rake a step but  At the end of the other room, I hear someone sneeze. 

As a bunch of men go to get her, things come rolling back to me, Jessie and Mom and Frankie and the Corona this is why all this is happening and I had to find a way to get out. My mind goes into overdrive and I am determined to get out of this place.

       I squirm through the crowd to the door, trying to fit in, acting casually so I don’t get spotted. While the people are distracted with the girl who sneezed, I manage to get to the other side of the room without being noticed by anyone. I feel like a ninja crawling through the room in super stealth mode refraining from being spotted. 

I slip through the wide-open door heading into the huge room that I had passed through before. When I got to the end of the room I was met with a mouth of hallways that split in all directions, one wrong turn and I may never get out. I hear voices from one of the hallways and hide holding my breath praying no one sees me. The two men pass right by and I am relieved. I then go into the hall where the men came from hoping this was the right one. The small passage was cold and there seemed to be a draft pushing its way through the walls and onto my face making me shiver. 

“Honey, wake up, wake up.” A faint voice calls in the distance but this was a different voice like it was coming from outside. I bang against the solid metal walls punching, hurting myself every time. It was no use I would never get out but as I hit the metal one more time my fist goes right through and I fall down, down, down into a dark abyss.

My eyes flutter open like butterflies squinting from the bright lights shining in my face “Oh good your up.” an unfamiliar voice says.

“Where am I?”

“Oh sweetie you’re in the hospital, you fell down your stairsteps and got a concussion and your neighbor found you, but you’ll be ok.”

“But…” I say astonished in a loss for words.

“Don’t worry everything will be fine, oh your neighbor said he found this on the floor said you might want it,” and she holds up an outfit. 

“Tell him I say thanks,” I say and smile.