Short & Sweet Stories

Dying Light

The precious oxygen leaked from her lungs with every exhale. Callisto wrestled with the panic and forced herself to breathe slowly and evenly. Her tank was running empty. Each breath could be her last.

47...48...

Almost there. Almost.

Fifty steps, north we tread

To the Greenhouse, we fled

Steam rise up, oceans fall

Heed my words, one and all

It had been Gan's favorite nursery rhyme. Her little brother used to sing it day and night, until she'd begged her parents to make him stop.

Over and over, Gan's sweet alto repeated the words in Callisto's mind. It grew stronger with every step she took, cutting through the blanket of ice and snow.

For years, astronomers had warned people, but no one had believed. No one had wanted to believe that the sun could just be–gone.

The family'd been celebrating Gan's eighth birthday when it'd happened. The animals had gone crazy; dogs howled, crows dropped from the sky like flies, and the dolphins just disappeared.

Not even a pinprick of light remained after that day. The world was drenched in death.

Callisto remembered the way Gan's little fingers had held hers. That day had been hot and sweaty, but she'd gripped his hand tight and refused to let go.

She remembered hugging him close, pretending she could shield him from the Reaper's eyes. "Everything's going to be okay." The lie had rolled smoothly off the tip of her tongue. "Everything will be okay."

Gan had trusted her till the end. Even when their parents died of starvation three days ago, and even when his little fingers were frozen cold and blue. He'd believed in her.

Yesterday morning, Gan had stopped breathing. Stopped living. Maybe she'd gone crazy with grief, but his voice wouldn't let her sleep, wouldn't let her rest. He just kept singing.

...49...50

If the rhyme spoke true, Callisto was now standing in front of the Greenhouse. Her hand reached into the inky blackness, searching for the door handle.

There was nothing there.

The terror made her choke. Callisto tried to take a breath, but her oxygen tank was empty. She gasped and fell on her knees. The end was near.

She didn't want to die.

Callisto's head felt light. The blackness surrounded her from all sides. She opened her mouth and tried to scream, but it came out a raspy whisper. Callisto fell backwards, her arms raised towards the once-blue sky.

Another hand gripped hers and pulled.

Fresh air filled her lungs, driving away the chill of death. The brilliant, white light nearly blinded her. Plants and greenery were everywhere. The air was humid with the smell of life.

She was inside the Greenhouse. It was real.

Callisto heard a laugh coming from behind her. She turned to express her thanks, but there was no one in sight. Goosebumps crawled across Callisto's skin and she shivered, although the room was warm.

A familiar voice whispered words in Callisto's ear.

"Bye sis."