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I take a deep breath, and let the answer come. I know it will; it always has, it always will. They are inside of me, ready and willing to be presented. I just have to find away to unlock them. I have to, or it's done. Everything is done, and I will no longer be relied upon. I have to.
My harness is snug around my waist and torso, each buckle and strap tied with meticulous care, so tight I can barely breathe. Alec looks at me with a grim smile, and something else.
"Ready?"
I feel my chest tighten with anxiety, my heart speeding up. Breathing comes harder. Before us, the door opens, bringing with it a strong, pulling wind that smells of smoke, and blood, and death. Things to be finished.
I take his hand in mine and smile, excited to end this. "Ready."
Together, we fall.
The configuration.
How even two simple words inspire such incredible hatred in me I do not know.
They have such incredible power over us- they watch us day and night. They manipulate us, use us, add us, remove us on even the slightest whim.
Jack showed me what life free of the configuration could look like, and it was beautiful. Free. Here, every move is watched. The very microfiber of each wall, each brick, each article of clothing is inlaid with microscopic cameras. Sensory nerves are attached to us day and night, collecting data. We are their machines- to them, we are nothing but relatively convenient robots.
But nothing in my life has ever been as beautiful of that brief, salty taste of freedom in the air.
"'uman soups, like."
Belle spat. "Thas' a lie, Bridgen, and you know it. There 'aint no such thin'."
He shook his head. "No, it's the truth, I swear it. Davey say they're makin' 'em more and more, seein as they got plenty o' dead and lackin' in meat, and all."
Belle wrinkled her nose. She'd always said war brought out the worst in people, but cannibalism? She'd never heard the like before, not in her life. "Well remind me to stay plenty away from then, then. I'm not to be turned into soup anytime soon."
"Plant the seeds, reap the harvest," says Brie casually, leaning back against her pillow.
I take another swig of the cheap wine, already feeling its effects. "Well, what if we're not the ones who planted the seeds. I don't want to be the one to have to reap that harvest."
She shrugs. "Too bad. They've been planted in your field- all of our fields- so unless you're gonna let some bastard weed up your crops, you're going to fight. We're all going to." She sighs and takes the bottle from me. "Times have changed, Em. Dark days are coming, so we better learn to work by the light of the moon."
I spit. "Or make the sun rise again."
She nods. "Ay, but it's got to set first, don't it. Brace yourself, girl."
"It does not do to dwell on the past and forget to live, "she said. "Nor to dwell on finished things. What's done is done, and cannot be changed, dear."
I feel my upper lip curl. "You don't know that. I can fix this. I can save him."
She looks up at me from behind her spectacles. "Love is a dangerous thing. Those loved are lucky, but the lover is a fool." She pauses. "Don't do this, Annie. Your boy is gone, and he will not return. I am not losing my niece to something so unavoidable."
I stand up, nearly knocking the table over. "I'm going. I love him, you know that. I can save him, I can."
She shakes her head. "You're just like your mother. A fool."
One minute. One minute until the world explodes, obliterates. One minute until everything we know will be destroyed. Entire skyscrapers ground to a dust. 9/11 times one million. Every life- human, animal, plant, bug will be obliterated. Thousands of years of progress, culture, history. Gone. Progress will be halted. All advancement will be halted. And maybe, in billions of years, after dinosaurs repopulate the earth- maybe they'll survive this time- people will theorize, "Hey, what if we're not the first? Maybe before us, before the dinosaurs, even, there were people, people even more advanced than we are, obliterated by one shooting star that came to close for comfort. One dream that was just a little too big." I wonder how many people wished on that start, before they realized it's the very thing that will end all their dreams. I wonder. "But hey," they'll say, "That's crazy."
Right?
"He's missing."
A pain like fire runs down my spine, and I crumble to the ground, because it can't be true. It can't. I can feel my world unraveling around me- splitting pain threatens to engulf me; the fractures in my leg threaten to shatter. Every bone bends, stretching, breaking. A thousand hot needles stab at my legs.
I imagine that all around me, the world is in chaos. Fires rage- houses are burnt, families torn apart. The very sky threatens to fall with a thunderous crash and I, I am drifting away softly, my last thread unraveling slowly, so that I begin to crumble and drift, like a fistful of sand on a windy day.
Why am I still here?
Different persons surround me. Two men, a woman and her child.
They’re dressed oddly- oddly for me, anyway, in tight suits that would in any other instance be unfashionable. Any other instance.
“Are you okay, sweetheart?” The woman’s voice is calm, soothing, but carries an undertone of, surprisingly, pity. Where am I?
"I don't- I," my thoughts are nearly incoherent. I feel dizzy, like I might throw up. I remember Jay's voice, telling me he fainted, the first time, and forgot all about his mission.
I know where I am, so instead, I ask,"What year is it?"
The woman looks concerned, and pushes her child back behind her, as if I worry her.
As if I'm a threat.
"2098."
writing since 2012 · 12 entries · 11 days shown up
each square is a day—lit means Emma showed up.
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11days written
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the words Emma reaches for
keenoddlyinstancedonedifferentchildtightvoiceminutereadynesspersonssurrounddressedanywaysuits