Where We Are

2100

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. 

I hear the robotic voice infiltrating my dreams just before I wake up. I keep my eyes closed for a moment, though, pretending I'm asleep just so I can continue listening to her soft soothing words for just a few seconds more. Just a few more breaths. 

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. 

This is the voice of Bri, the artificial intelligence that helps everybody breathe steadily through the night. She comes in the form of plastic headgear, with tubes extending down towards one's nose, and a mouthpiece connecting it all. This sort of technology is necessary, because the air outside of the oxygen tanks is thick and heavy, and it begins to hurt if you breathe it in for too long. That's why we spend all night sleeping in helmets. A full night of fresh air will prepare you for a day of breathing in clouds. 

I really kind of like Bri, because she is the only escape from the foul smell that exists everywhere. Her voice sounds more human-like than robotic, but the way she speaks makes her sound like she was created in a lab. I'm not sure which is true, but I sort of hope for her sake that she's not human. Because being a human in the world today is miserable. 

Everything we know is plastic. Each plastic item comes from the same giant factory, and their materials are ninety percent plastic. Ever since our oceans lost the life they've been said to once hold, humanity decided that the next best step would be to embrace the earth's status as the "Plastic Planet". We were already losing resources at a more rapid rate than ever before, so we as a species collectively agreed that we should stick to what we're good at when it comes to creating things. If we were going to have to lose hundreds and thousands of other lifeforms who shared the planet in order to preserve the human race, then that was exactly what would be done. 

As you can tell, I'm outraged at the condition of the world. Everyone is. Terrible decisions were made before anyone alive to experience the outcome was even born. The world went from the lush green forests and bright blue skies that I've seen in textbooks, to dark grey and smoggy before I could have any say in it. 

But there's nothing I can do. There's nothing anyone can do. Plastic is all that's produced now, and the rich men of the world refuse to allow change. There isn't any kind of election or public survey asking any of us how we feel about this plastic world. It has been decided by higher-ups that this is the best way to live. But nobody agrees. 

How could anyone agree to this? Why would anyone want to live the way we do? People used to have a decision to stop using plastic whenever they wanted. Maybe if they had, we wouldn't be where we are.