It’s a warm summer day. One of the last days of summer there will ever be. I close my eyes, throwing back my head. I let the small amount of sunlight available tickle my face and bathe my body in a golden glow. A gentle breeze plays with my long, unkempt hair and brings me the scent of some freshly baked cookies that people are enjoying nearby. It feels like any other beautiful day on this Earth, if I keep my eyes closed. I can almost pretend that everything is okay, that my time is not limited. I want to stay, unable to hurt, in this lonesome paradise forever. I want to forget, stay frozen in a consent repeat of this moment of course, though, the time will come and I have to accept that.
My favorite teacher when I was younger, Ms.Winowa, taught me something. Something more important than any math equation or sentence structure. Her words echo through my head on a daily basis. “The Earth, like all things, has its glorious moments. The shining moments of being alive. And, like all things, it must die. For what is an adventure if it is never to end? All the people in this Earth will come together at this time. No matter whom they are…what they have done. Everyone will join in thanks for this wonderful Earth that has given us a home and hope for millions of years. It has given up its life for our needs. We will stand together once more and perish with the planet. But, the long long life of Earth will never be forgotten. Everything that has ever lived on it has left a mark on this universe. Every laugh, every good deed, every friendship made, every child born, every moment of happiness will live forever and echo for the rest of time in the hearts of every life that will come to pass. Every human, animal, inanimate object has become a part of the story. The story of Earth. The story of life. the story of us.” A single hot tear rolls down my face as I picture myself at the moment that I first heard those words. Sitting in the front of the classroom, mouth open, and eyes wide. It was at that moment that I felt a part of something. That I didn’t feel like I was unwanted or a waste of space.
My eyes flicker open and I instantly regret it. I see it. I see what my planet has come to and a sense of shock washes over me as it does every time. The few faces that are present in this serene park are long. There is a certain kind of wild fear that is mirrored in every single adult’s eyes. The children, though, the children. I wonder if they truly understand. There they are, playing and laughing as if they don’t have a care in the world. I wish I was like them. I wish I was unaffected by peoples words. I wonder if they just think that all of their friends and neighbors are at “The Farm.”
A young mother scoops up her baby, petting his blonde hair lovingly. As they walk past me I can hear her whispering “my baby, my baby.” My Darcy Rose. That’s what I would have said. I heard the name in a book once long, long ago. That’s what I would have named my baby girl. I will never get to have a child. I am to die soon.
Three gun shots ring through the smoky air, symbolizing the time. I sigh and drag myself off the bench, stretching my aching legs. I stare one more time at the scene in front of me. It looks almost normal; the grass field stretches far into the city. Here, trees still grow and flowers too. You can occasionally see a lucky squirrel that has managed to escape the grasp of the hungry poor. You will never see a bird though, they have all suffocated. If you look up then you will know the reason why.
The false vision of utopia seems to melt away if you turn your head to the sky. The blueness of it has been overrun by murk. Brown twisting smoke suffocates the sun and blacks out the sky. The sun struggles to let its light reach Earth. After three in the afternoon, though, it gives up, letting the smoke over power it. That’s when the city resorts to artificial lighting. The sun comes back every morning, though. But with every day that goes by, the sun appears less and less.
I am forcefully shoved by one of the policemen in charge of rounding us all into The Circle. I rush to join the group of hundreds of people making their way to the heart of the city. Every day by 3:40 PM we are all to report to The Circle. Here, the Mayor hosts rehearsals.
