We, The Left Behind

We are the left behind, the ones who didn't make the cut, the unlucky.
When The Arc was created, they said the positions on board would be determined by ballot. Funny how that random selection process took one hundred percent of the rich and famous, the billionaires, the influencers, the celebrities and politicians. Oh, they took others too, the unnamed and unknown. Mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, all randomly selected. Families were torn apart by the horrible choice, either stay together and die, or separate for a chance at life. My mother chose life, chose her future over me. I was not selected. I was left behind and she went, boarded the huge craft they called The Arc. The chosen few abandoned the Earth with its dying sun, departed for places unknown in the far reaches of space. They said they'd return for us, the ones they left behind. We knew they lied.
Then came the Light Stalkers, attracted to the light of the dying sun, like moths to an enormous flame.
And we, the left behind, became their prey.

Originally published to Reedsy short story competition #232