P L A N B E T A

Sneak Peak at PB2!

January 20th, 2043

Baker-Crane

The waves crash on the cliff next to the bunker. The wind is cold, but the sun is out today. Maia, P, Jameson, and Ashlynn made Gwen's casket out of branches and vines weaved with lavender. The whole scene was lovely, but the reason was not.

P hadn't talked to Maia. He talked less altogether, but he never talked to Maia. She accepted it, thinking he deserved everything that came from the incident, but it was really none of her fault, and we all knew it. Orren more than most, he was livid at P for being mad at Maia, when she did absolutely nothing at all. O would constantly check up on Maia, see if she was okay, but Maia would just turn away and say she's fine, but he knew different.

I, however, have only found myself worrying about Ashlynn, and for some reason, the realization of my mother's death hadn't hit me yet. I smile at the words that Maia speaks because she was requested to put on this whole event. She speaks very softly, it's like she's dreaming while awake, and yet she still says all of the right words.

We bow our heads in grace, even if we aren't religious, so it was more out of respect than grace, but it was a sign of appreciation. I remembered Gwen's bright eyes that she came up with just about a month ago. After she had gotten our flag she swam herself to shore and ran as fast as she could to get out of the barriers, once she did, she ran to her territory, and she hung the flag high. She was soaking wet from head to toe but had stars in her eyes and wind in her dripping hair.

I look over at Ashlynn, who is right next to me. Her head is still bowed, but her hand is gripping on to Max's with all of its force a small smile crawls into the corner of my mouth and I take a moment to appreciate whatever comfort Max is trying to provide for Ashlynn in this traumatic time of loss. I run my hand through Ash's hair, trying to make her feel more at home, but her face clenches. She's trying to keep in tears, but some still slip out, and this is nothing like I thought it would be.

The pain in Ash's eyes was enough to kill a supernova. As if supernovas were things that would disappear from the outside in if you dumped water on them. But maybe her pain wasn't enough to kill a supernova, maybe someday she would come to terms with the fact our mother was gone and she would come right back down to earth and be relatively okay, but that was a big lie I told myself.

"In conclusion," Maia states. "Gwen was a character. She ordered us that if she ever died then we must wear white to her funeral. No exceptions. Wear whatever you want, but make it white. That's what we did. In these times of stress and extreme tragedy, we stay together and help each other back up when we fall. Simply put, we can not afford to lose another. Please stand, and help carry the casket to swing into the ocean." We all stand, walk to the vine and wood coffin, pick it up on three of the four sides, and swing it a few times back and forth before finally releasing it, watching it fly into the air and far into the ocean. Some would think this action morbid, but Gwen wanted to sore as high as she could, however her longing to swim with the fish was unbelievable as well.

We all crowd into the bunker, the smaller children ahead of the larger, and I take a moment to look back. Orren was grasping onto my hand like he normally did, but then I see Maia and Peter about twenty feet behind us. Peter takes a moment to take Maia's hand in his. She jumps in surprise at first, but then settles, still not saying a word. I tap Orren's shoulder, telling him to look back. When he does, he tenses and sighs, like he's disappointed and like he thinks P will never be good enough for Maia, but that's just Orren's way of mind.

Orren squeezed my hand and we continued inside.

The bunker was quite small despite it being three stories tall not including a basement. The actual house was old and made out of rotting plywood that needed to be replaced. The stories got smaller as they went up, and the top story was definitely the coldest. The top story was one room with a small exposed bulb in the middle of the ceiling with a long string to turn it on and off. There were two twin sized squeaky beds up there, but that was it, besides the cobwebs. The second floor Had two rooms that were dangerously close together. The only thing keeping them apart was a narrow hallway that leads straight to a staircase downstairs. In order to get to the third floor, you had to go up a ladder and into the crawl-access attic. We kept the ladder down at all times, just to make it feel like more of a room in the house. There were two beds in each of the small and cramped rooms. The main floor was the most active. There was a small kitchen, minimal counter space, a one door fridge where the top part was the freezer and the bottom was the actual fridge. The living room was connected to the kitchen by a half wall. There was one couch, one chair, and a small TV. The last bedroom was on this floor. There were two bathrooms, but only one had a shower. There was a back door that leads straight into the living room, the front door that leads to the driveway. A white wooden door blocked off the entrance to the wooden basement stairs. There was a bathroom blocked off by a tie-dyed tapestry tied onto a screen door, but besides that small room, the room was filled with five large tables and many chairs. It used to be used as our parent's secret conference room, but we changed the tables around so it could be used as a classroom, the kids would not go without an education.