I didn't finish this until four nights ago, and I did so through gritted teeth. I've been in a real downer mood lately, and I'm still recovering. I've been having trouble doing anything creative, and I think that finishing this will be good a good outlet for me to let other ideas flow. Enjoy.
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She pressed her dead fingers to her metallic blue lips. “Too cold,” she thought aloud, “It’s too cold.”
Tean nodded at her, and touched his own shimmering, sapphire lips. “Do you remember the warmth?”
She shook her head. “My mother told me that it was wonderful, though. She only had some as a child. It’s like being held all around by someone you love, she said.”
“I want some,” Tean whispered; his face was thoughtful, but gloomy and yearning.
The pair shivered in the dark together, looking skyward as if the Sun would spontaneously reappear as it used to each and every morning, or their families told them. They held each other in hopes that somehow, some warmth would seep into their bones to chase away the chill that held deeply under their skin.
She shifted her head off Tean’s shoulder and they both looked to her watch. It was nearly five, so she bid him goodbye and hugged him gently.
“Goodbye, Shri,” Tean called as he watched her walk from the bench. A tear escaped his eyes. He craved to learn warmth, and love.
Shri wiped her boots off on the front mat and stepped into her house quietly. She ate the evening food rations sent from Aion in silence, chewing on the tough material. It had a bland taste, but it filled her, and kept her alive. Shri slinked off to bed soon after showering and brushing her teeth with icy bottled water. She envied those who had the money years ago to be transported to Aion, where warmth was common, and life thrived.
Expressionless, she pulled the sheets up to her chin, cramming her eyes shut in hopes of finding sleep in the bleak, frozen dark.
Tean lay in bed, feeling clean of the nasty mask of cosmetics that was required by law to wear during daytime. This was how it was if you wanted to stay on Earth, if you refused to leave to Aion. We were governed by strict, ridiculous rules. “For your safety,” they told us. The chalky make-up was supposed to keep our skin warm when we weren’t under the weak protection of our bedspreads.
Both he and Shri’s family found it beneficial to stay on Earth, as if the Sun would show its face, as if green might sprout from the ground once again. Neither family had money for the expensive transport to Aion, either. That was before Aion had flourished. By the time Tean was born, the Aionians didn’t even want Earth dwellers to join them. They were considered sullied and brainless for thinking the Sun would return to them, so they were stuck here on this forever wintry wasteland called Earth, left to eventually die off.
Soon after Tean’s parents were terminated at 30, Shri’s were as well. Ever since, she had been under a fog of depression. Tean found it up to him to stay with her, to be her guardian until he too, turned 30. Tean was only three years older than her, so he kept to the rules so he could live the last few months of his life helping her in any way he could. Tean knew what he had to do—and soon—because if he delayed the task any longer, it’d be too late.
The following morning brought thick, glistening cerulean lipstick to Shri’s face. She signed forlornly at her morning routine as she dragged herself down to the kitchen. Slowly pulling the leathery, freeze-dried plants apart in her teeth, she counted the days.
67 were all Shri had left with Tean. Moisture rolled from the corners of her eyes as she swallowed. Inside, Shri knew that she would have to somehow make those 67 days count.
Slipping on her worn boots, she left for Tean’s house as she would have any other morning.
Tean shut the front door behind him as he welcomed Shri in to sit where she’d like. She decided on a beat up two-seater that belonged to his father in the living room. “Did you eat before you came?” Tean asked her, offering her some freeze-dried snacks. She nodded yes and Tean set the small plate of preservative-filled food on a small table by the window.
“Want to go to the playground today? Like we used to when we were kids?” she asked with a smile, bringing distant memories to Tean’s mind. He felt his own lips curl into a crooked, blue crescent of a smirk in agreement. They gathered the snacks into a small plastic bag which Tean shoved into his pocket and headed out the door.
The two walked side by side, Tean holding onto her fragile hands. The two were a funny pair to watch stroll down the street, Tean being a whopping half foot taller than tiny Shri. She looked up to him when Tean spoke.
“Are you cold?” he asked Shri, gripping her small hands tighter.
It was a stupid question, of course. Shri was always cold, even with the temperature-regulation dome set up twenty years ago. “Freezing,” she answered anyway, pulling herself closer to him, breathing in the faint scent that belonged only to Tean.
They finally arrived at the abandoned playground that used to be for schoolchildren. He led Shri toward a swing set where they each took a swing and sat on a slab of rubber, each held suspended in the air by a pair of chains. Tean could comfortably place his foot on the ground, while Shri could barely touch her toes to the earth. They gently pushed themselves back and forth, lifting themselves no more than a few inches off the soil.
He began pumping his legs stronger and faster now, pulling himself many feet above the ground. Shri soon joined him though he was feet ahead of her. In a single fluid motion, Tean released the swing and jumped off as he swung forward, throwing him several yards as he landed suavely. By then, Shri had found her peak height and was ready to fly off the swing like Tean. After gathering himself, he got up and opened his arms.
“Don’t worry, I’ll catch you.”
Shri flung herself toward him as he positioned himself to be under her as she landed. She crashed into him, toppling him onto his back. They both laughed uncontrollably.
After the laughter settled down, they just lay there momentarily, staring into each others’ grey eyes. Tean knew that the moment was now.
He reached for the back of her neck and pulled her close, closing his eyes. Shri did not object as their blue lips met. Her eyes fluttered closed too as their lips intertwined into a fusion of indigos and baby blues. She pulled her face from his, lifting herself up, but Tean was not satisfied. He rolled around so that he was atop her body now, careful not to crush her delicate frame. Tean set his lips on hers again, and she welcomed them with ease.
“I have always loved you,” Tean whispered into her ear as if it were a secret. He pressed his mouth to her neck twice and returned to her lips.
“I have always loved you, too,” she replied in the same tone between kisses.
Tean criss-crossed his fingers between hers again as they walked back to his house, snacking softly on freeze-dried Aionian versions of a plant that used to grow on vines on Earth called cranberries. They were slightly sweeter than the cardboard meal rations they ate three times a day, but still were very tasteless.
“Mom used to give me chocolate,” she told Tean, “I only remember that it was really delightful and always cheered me up when I was sad.”
“With dad, it was usually fruit. I liked their sweetness, and he always told me that they were good for me,” Tean smiled. As they recollected about when they were young, Tean was reminded of his love for his parents; when he had love and warmth. Tean was only eight when his parents were executed. From then on, he was left to grasp at faint memories of the warmth he had. With Shri, he could feel that he had warmth and love with her, too.
September soon approached, as did Tean’s 30th birthday, like a chilling wind breathing down their necks. The two spent every moment with each other, holding onto their newfound warmth for as long as they could, knowing that the 13th neared them.
“I don’t want you to leave me, Tean,” Shri whispered in a broken voice.
“I don’t want to leave you,” he murmured to her, smoothing her hair as the two sat snuggled close to one another in the two-seater. He continued to Shri in the same, soothing tone, “But you’ll let me go. You’ll be strong, I know it,” he seemed to struggle to maintain the soft timbre of his voice as tears threatened to choke his words. “Look at how far you’ve come already.” Of course, he was referring to Shri’s parents.
Tears already tracked Shri’s face. Both of them knew that she wasn’t as resilient as Tean described, but neither of them said anything about it to spare their breath.
It was shameful how Aionians had the nerve to exterminate the remaining Earthlings the way they did. No matter how understandable it was that Aionians wanted to save money on trips from Aion to bring food and supplies that could no longer be made or grown on Earth, it was cruel to have an age limit set to speed up the process to finally rid all life from Earth, rather than let us live our full lives.
It was cruel, but efficient; beneficial only to the Aionians. That was all that mattered, anyway. Earthlings were undesirables given enough pity not to be destroyed with nuclear bombs. Did Aionian government officials have hearts?
Or were they malicious to let them watch their loved ones be executed one by one? It was difficult to fathom the Aionians’ true intentions, living so many light-years away from Earth.
A few days later, Tean took Shri to the playground again, hoping to make the day last for all it was worth. Just as they reached the sacred place of memories, a Flyer flew overhead. An earsplitting gunshot sounded and filled the still air. And Tean fell dead. Shri knew that she would meet the same fate in three years of cold loneliness.
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As Shri pasted an azure pigment to her lips, all she would think of was the pressure of Tean’s kiss. It had been two and a half years since the Flyer planted a bullet in his head and still, Shri did not sleep a single night without nightmares. Every day was spent in Tean’s home, eating rations, moping on his two-seater, eating some more, showering then falling asleep to horrendous dreams. The routine hardly varied.
Today was one of those days when Shri would have to open the door to retrieve the quarterly supply of food rations sent from Aion. She’d shuffle out to the porch to find the package, take it inside, and organize it into the cabinet. However, today, the Deliverer of the rations was still setting down the large box when Shri surprised him by opening the door.
“… Thank you …” Shri mumbled through heavy-feeling lips as the Deliverer handed her the supplies.
His dazzling golden eyes looked up to her as she did. He nodded a “You’re welcome,” to her and noticed the tears that stained her cheeks. Shri paid no attention to the man and quickly turned to shut the door, but the Deliverer caught his foot in the small slit before she could. “How old are you?” he asked suddenly.
The question caught Shri by surprise. “29.” The Deliverer’s beautiful face quickly turned to shock.
“Come with me,” he whispered rapidly, pulling her to his vehicle. Shri hadn’t stepped farther from Tean’s house than the porch in nearly three years, and now, being in the open was uncomfortable. Before Shri could object, she was strapped into the passenger seat of his car and the two were speeding down to the transport station to Aion. During the course of the ride, she could not help but stare at the Aionian’s beauty. His skin had a golden glow that Shri had never seen before.
“Where are you taking me?” Shri asked the man as he led her from his car to a disc-shaped inter-stellar transport vehicle.
He answered her as if it were obvious, “To Aion, of course. Do you want to be shot and killed?” Shri became too choked up with the pain of Tean’s execution to speak. Within a matter of a few hours of dead silence, they began landing onto the gorgeous planet of Aion.
The greenery was breathtaking to Shri; it was nothing like the frigid Earth she had always known. No longer was the landscape painted in plain, varying shades of navy, but in bright hues of reds, greens, and oranges. The skies still held a familiar cerulean color, but there were bright green plants and red flowers. It looked so much like the drawings in her childhood storybooks. Shri looked to the eastern sky, and she found what she’d been searching for for years: an assuring sense of warmth known only to her as the Sun.
The Deliverer carefully and quietly led the cold Earthling out the passenger-side door. Had he done the right thing by bringing her here? Would she get caught by the authorities? Would both of them get killed? He decided to show her around.
The Deliverer zoomed the girl around in his Aionian vehicle, describing the plants, buildings, and new technologies. She seemed extremely fascinated by the world he lived in and the man began to feel sorry for all that she had missed out on.
After the tour, the Deliverer brought her into his house so she could stay while she got accustomed to her new surroundings. He also did so to make sure he could keep an eye on her and away from authorities. Her skin had not yet tanned to the same tone as the Aionians’.
As she gazed out the window at this new world, Shri realized how much potential the new planet held for her. She had color, and Sun, and light here. No limit to her lifespan; no more tasteless food rations, blue lipstick, or boring days.
And then the truth hit her like a bowling ball. Wherever Shri lived, there’d be no Tean, and now, she was farther from him and his warmth than ever.
The following morning, the Deliverer awoke and headed downstairs for his breakfast. Rounding the corner, it brought horror to his eyes to find a pale, bloodied Earthling lying motionless on the kitchen floor, with a pleasant smile on her face.
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Stupid Blogger made this post the day I wrote it instead of Saturday like usual. So, surprise! You all get early posts, but won't get another for a week and a half.
Good Story,Sara.
ReplyDeleteThe Beach Boys "The Warmth of the Sun" would make a good soundtrack for your story.
Have you considered reading your stories and making them available as mp3s?