Dead leaves and plastic wrappers crunched underfoot; there was no longer any incentive to clean up a forest nobody would visit and which wildlife had all fled. Who was to blame? There's not much to look at other than the residue that carelessness left in its wake.
Liesel didn't like this forest, no-- but it was certainly better than the air she'd breathe on the streets, and the desolate ground left no distractions to solitary thought. Her twin brother never served as an intrusion, as it never would make a difference whether he was there or not, besides for a second pair of footsteps that climbed up a hill alongside her, with dirt coming loose as they walked.
In the corner of a patch of land, dense with fallen objects, some of them rotten past recognition, sat a large machine. It stood at around seven feet tall. Without any caution, the girl approached the shape; a simple box, with naught on its structure but a door. Some dust caught onto the candy she was still eating as she brushed the metallic façade, to which a glimmering insignia showed its face.
It was bigger on the inside. The door gave way to an exact replica of her bedroom; the pink, cheery little chamber with her schoolpapers and baseball gear put away neatly on her shelf, just as she remembered it. After the shock, the twins stepped in-- and something must've reminded them of home, as when they peeked out of the machine, they were greeted by a familiar view of their basement floor.
YOU ARE READING
Event Horizon
Science FictionAfter finding a strange craft in a bleak, sordid forest, Liesel is convinced that there exists a race of benevolent aliens that will stop humanity from tipping itself over the edge. All she wanted to be was remembered- but in a desolate, hopeless wo...
