Beep, beep, beep, blared the sound of my alarm clock. My eyes shot open with wariness then quickly dissipated into a sense of drowsiness as soon as my consciousness returned to me. It was pitch black outside and it looked as if someone had spilt a great big deal of somber, starless ocean space just outside my window. It was cold. My eyes shifted from left to right and I saw that my stuffed animals, blankets, and pillows had all been thrown to my bedroom floor in my restless unconscious sleep. My bed was completely barren except for the sheet that spread and hugged the mattress beneath it. This alarm was set as a reminder not for the day but instead for homework. I absolutely despise my math class. I delayed my homework for as long as possible and now here I was, pushing both my tired body and mind to get up from bed.
Get up, get up, get up. I persisted as if my body was a corpse and I begged for life to return to me again. Get up, get up, get up. A whirlwind of the deep dark space outside swirled and crashed against my window. Get up, get up, get up. This voice was no longer my own but I heard it echo inside my head. Feeling returned to my bitterly cold fingertips, taste returned to my tongue and a great pressure-like matter accompanied my returning sense of sound. I deserted my starfish disposition stiffly and left my barren bed. I made my way through the quiet hallway and out to my backyard.
There it was standing before me, its shining titanium silver plating glowing in the pitch black atmosphere. A singular circular window could be seen just below the tip. It was a rocket ship, —in my backyard? I moved forward without any control as if my body was in a trance but I didn’t resist. Its doors automatically opened like the kind in a grocery store and I sat inside.
A great impenetrable cloud of fog filled my head. It was pitch black inside. A small shape of light took form in the circular window that I had seen outside. This wasn’t any bright or
luminescent light either, it was dull and almost fading. With every step I took the fog only seemed to get heavier and heavier. I thirsted for the light. I couldn’t stand the pitch black darkness. I hadn’t realized I made my way to the window until I laid my head beside it. I felt like a kid riding the bus home from school after a bad day.
The blaring roar of the rocket ship at long last came to a standstill. It was deafeningly silent for a brief moment. I heard the familiar sound of those automatic doors and I hazily made my way outside. My eyes were met with a bone-dry surface. Dirt had completely covered the desiccated ground and it was so dry. Deep narrow fissures embedded themselves into the dry exterior. There were no signs of life, no plants, no trees, no flowers, fruits, or gardens. Wherever I was, it was completely barren and colorless. Except for the sky. Bright twinkling lights shone above the barren wasteland. It reminded me of the lights on a Christmas tree, warm and all sorts of different colors. The only company that I had seemed to be welcomed with was a rough and scratchy feeling in my throat. I really wanted a glass of water.
*
I see a figure in the distance. Its silhouette appears closer and less faded as it walks towards me. I am still in a daze and I don’t feel it going away any time soon. The unfamiliarity of this strange place isn’t helping either but I feel too out of place to feel any type of fear. It makes its way closer to me now. I am standing still. Don’t move. Closer. Much closer now. We are standing face to face.
“Hello.” His voice is stern but calm. “Hi.” I respond, sleepily.
His voice sounds a bit silly to me. It’s in complete contrast to the way he looks. Despite his rocky exterior, he moves swiftly and gracefully, just like a deer. He is pale and nothing more. A small wave of pity abruptly hits me as he continues to speak.
“There is no life here and it’s so dry. We are dying.” His voice raises concern in me like a rising tide.
“I want to help you. What can I do? I’ll do anything— as long as it isn’t math.” I reply still in a bit of a haze.
“There is no water here. I don’t know what else to do. I am all alone.” His voice now strangely monotone.
“I’m still here.” A voice emerges from what seems to be out of the blue. I guess this place isn’t completely barren.
“I called you here. Our planet is on the brink of death. Get up.” His voice is now familiar to me.
My vision is blurry, and I can scarcely make out the two creatures in front of me. One, a sea spider, is nothing but a pale blob with its sprawled legs. This other creature has no legs at all and when he speaks his mouth opens to an enormous length. At one point I think he’s going to eat me. This creature is much larger than the sea spider. I would say about the same size as a whale.
“Come now, What will we do? We cannot keep standing around here doing nothing.” He declares impatiently.
I want to wake up and leave. This planet leaves me feeling a great amount of brain fog I can hardly think straight. There was nothing we could do. This planet was barren. I looked down at the deep, narrow openings on the surface. The space between matches the pitch black sky. I kneel on the rock hard ground, and speak into the deep somber space, to the dry desiccated dirt. I remember hearing that sometimes on Earth when people spoke to their plants, flowers would bloom, sprouts shooting up towards the sky and the sweet smell of fruits upon the arrival of Spring. Maybe if we did the same here, life would return again.
Soon enough, water begins to rise between these deep narrow fissures. It sounds no different than water flowing through a stream, gently and pleasantly. A sense of relief hits me finally and these animals no longer have to worry. I remember carefully lifting my head, my vision still blurry. I can’t tell what their expressions are but I can guess they’re pretty happy. Sweetness and warmth fill me like an old childhood memory. Just as quickly as it comes the memory is gone. The pleasantly sweet sound of water transformed into an unsuspecting familiarity.
*
Beep, beep, beep went the sound of my alarm. I found that I had returned to my starfish disposition and my bed was barren. The dark somber space still outside my window. I looked hazily and there was a single star. Bright and shining just like the kind from a Christmas tree. I went to school the next day and my math homework remained undone.
Isabel Ceballos is a senior in high school. She has recently rediscovered a love for writing in a creative writing class. This is her first time submitting to a publisher and she’s so happy to have the opportunity to have her work reviewed.
