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invictus: chapter one
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The sky looks unmeasurable, an endless reminder of our lonely existence compared to its vast chasm of darkness. I suppose that’s what happens when you are different, not different as in wearing strange clothing or dancing off to a song beat, but a kind of difference that leaves everyone else who’s not like you unsettled. I don't remember earth. In dreams I can almost taste the fresh air, feel the warm heat of the sun and roll in withered grass.
Earth. What a strange feeling to be from there but not of, to exist outside of it though you were meant to live on the same planet as everyone else. A surge of anger settles in my bones like an ache I cannot escape. Anger is a tool used by humans to keep my kind at bay but I am a victim to the same international bullcrap which is emotion. Certainly I have attempted to keep my thoughts at bay. Aguaya V’antal is my name meaning fire just like my split decision personality and drifty attitude. It was given to me by scientists although I wonder why they hadn’t assigned me a code name like the rest of us. The others keep busy on the ‘ark’, seemingly unfazed by our captivity. They don’t particularly care that we are called “aliens”, “different”, “outsiders” but I do. Never is there a greater burden to be made aware of beauty in the universe but to be ridiculed out of believing there is any beauty left.
My kind, according to what bullcrap lies the scientists conjure, once lived underground beneath miles of passages driven in stone. Psychic ability scares humans. Knowing anything beyond a simple mind terrifies them to the degree that they have sent my kind to space, watching us with peering eyes.
It isn’t fear itself that scares me, it’s what is behind fear that leaves a shiver up my spine. Mother Gaya, a calm woman with a knack for sternness, oversees the ‘ark, keeping track of every possible move we make. Never can someone sit in private except behind bedroom corridors which hardly provide anything but sleep. A lone cot sits in my room with nothing but a gray desk. Mother Gaya is a scientist who prides herself for “rescuing youth from the below”, stealing us from our kind since the moment we took our first breath.
“It is a great honor to serve the ark” she’d sooth in her passive aggressive tone whenever i gazed out of windows to earth. I remember shaking in tears while the others would work on esp projections or whatever jobs the scientists chose next. Even among “aliens” I am different.
The ark, a scientific research facility above the atmosphere of earth, has been my living facility for all of my life. It is a luminous spaceship, advanced for our time because of its anti-gravity features, is about the size of 20 space stations. While scientists drill in our heads that we are safer up here over the unpredictability of earth, I feel taken advantage of. Despite the self-pity party I've been throwing for myself, Mother Gaia will soon require us to exit our rooms.
“Agatha” 137 cracks open my bedroom door, peering in with a confused gaze. 137 is a smart girl with dark raven hair and high cheekbones who takes pride in being the best of us. Agatha has become my nickname.
“C’mon, Mother Gaya is calling for a gathering” her judgy brown eyes look me up and down as if I am despicable.
“I’ll be there in a second '' I groaned, standing up from my boredom. 137, known by Kate among my people, seems to get along perfectly fine with the scientists. Every job, all expectations, and each project she is expected to finish gets achieved with flying colors.
Trudging behind the other teens, I quicken my walk as if upping my pace could possibly save me from Mother Gaya's calm yet assertive orders. Gaya has a way with speaking that is strangely comforting and also unsettling at the same time.
The sky looks unmeasurable, an endless reminder of our lonely existence compared to its vast chasm of darkness. I suppose that’s what happens when you are different, not different as in wearing strange clothing or dancing off to a song beat, but a kind of difference that leaves everyone else who’s not like you unsettled. I don't remember earth. In dreams I can almost taste the fresh air, feel the warm heat of the sun and roll in withered grass.
Earth. What a strange feeling to be from there but not of, to exist outside of it though you were meant to live on the same planet as everyone else. A surge of anger settles in my bones like an ache I cannot escape. Anger is a tool used by humans to keep my kind at bay but I am a victim to the same international bullcrap which is emotion. Certainly I have attempted to keep my thoughts at bay. Aguaya V’antal is my name meaning fire just like my split decision personality and drifty attitude. It was given to me by scientists although I wonder why they hadn’t assigned me a code name like the rest of us. The others keep busy on the ‘ark’, seemingly unfazed by our captivity. They don’t particularly care that we are called “aliens”, “different”, “outsiders” but I do. Never is there a greater burden to be made aware of beauty in the universe but to be ridiculed out of believing there is any beauty left.
My kind, according to what bullcrap lies the scientists conjure, once lived underground beneath miles of passages driven in stone. Psychic ability scares humans. Knowing anything beyond a simple mind terrifies them to the degree that they have sent my kind to space, watching us with peering eyes.
It isn’t fear itself that scares me, it’s what is behind fear that leaves a shiver up my spine. Mother Gaya, a calm woman with a knack for sternness, oversees the ‘ark, keeping track of every possible move we make. Never can someone sit in private except behind bedroom corridors which hardly provide anything but sleep. A lone cot sits in my room with nothing but a gray desk. Mother Gaya is a scientist who prides herself for “rescuing youth from the below”, stealing us from our kind since the moment we took our first breath.
“It is a great honor to serve the ark” she’d sooth in her passive aggressive tone whenever i gazed out of windows to earth. I remember shaking in tears while the others would work on esp projections or whatever jobs the scientists chose next. Even among “aliens” I am different.
The ark, a scientific research facility above the atmosphere of earth, has been my living facility for all of my life. It is a luminous spaceship, advanced for our time because of its anti-gravity features, is about the size of 20 space stations. While scientists drill in our heads that we are safer up here over the unpredictability of earth, I feel taken advantage of. Despite the self-pity party I've been throwing for myself, Mother Gaia will soon require us to exit our rooms.
“Agatha” 137 cracks open my bedroom door, peering in with a confused gaze. 137 is a smart girl with dark raven hair and high cheekbones who takes pride in being the best of us. Agatha has become my nickname.
“C’mon, Mother Gaya is calling for a gathering” her judgy brown eyes look me up and down as if I am despicable.
“I’ll be there in a second '' I groaned, standing up from my boredom. 137, known by Kate among my people, seems to get along perfectly fine with the scientists. Every job, all expectations, and each project she is expected to finish gets achieved with flying colors.
Trudging behind the other teens, I quicken my walk as if upping my pace could possibly save me from Mother Gaya's calm yet assertive orders. Gaya has a way with speaking that is strangely comforting and also unsettling at the same time.
