Beautiful World The Earth stopped rotating about one year ago. While the eastern hemisphere is in perpetual sunlight, the western hemisphere experiences everlasting night. Sheryl Baker could not help smiling. She had finally done it!By this time tomorrow, she and Alana would be on their way to north east Greenland: where the sunlight was. It would be risky. After all, it was critical to avoid flying the plane over any part of the ocean near the equator in the eastern hemisphere, and the financial situation was so bad that she and Alana would most likely be living in a Hostile for at least a year after arriving. Despite all this, Sheryl knew that if Alana remained darkness any longer, she would no longer have a daughter left to risk. The neighborhood that she was driving through, not being economically well off to begin with, barely ever had its lights on. People had to save what little money they had for food and heat. It was just as well. Sheryl could not bear to see dirt plots in place of lush lawns, and dead stumps in the place of lazy willow trees. Alana would have described it as a perpetual cloud, dark and dreary, fogging every corner of her mind and suffocating any potential spark of joy. There was only one problem. At this point even the omnipresent clouds would have been a luxury; they would have made her heart swell with joy. Even through the darkest clouds, there is some evidence of light: enough to walk outside at noon in July without a flashlight. Even through the darkest clouds, there is comfort in the fact that the sun will shine again. Alana knew the Eastern Hemisphere was equally horrific to her Cleveland home. African immigrants had described how those living on Lake Victoria were cooked alive due to the heat of the boiling water. With plants wilting away, and the following deaths of herbivores, then carnivores, Alana had been afraid to ask what the neighboring tribes had done with the broiled bodies. Seen the stress lines in her mother’s forehead becoming more deeply and permanently engraved each day, Alana knew that her mother always tried so hard to make her happy, tried to make her life the best it could be. Sometimes, Alana would try to smile for her mother’s sake, but it seemed that she had simply forgotten how to. She could not bear to see her mother worry over her anymore. Arriving home from work, Sheryl had to stop, take a deep breath and say a prayer before flicking on her headlamp to approach the house. Despite the white siding, with no lights on, the apartment blended seamlessly into the night sky. Pausing before unlocking the front door, Sheryl tried to imagine the emerald color returning to the now dishwater state of Alana’s eyes. Just the thought brought a smile to her face and she jumped to get inside and see her fantasy come true. In all the excitement, Mrs. Baker struggled a bit with the second lock, one of the many adjustments she had made to the house when the crime rate picked up. Sheryl had always thought of her neighbors as respectable people. It is amazing what perpetual darkness can do to people. Covered in blankets, Alana could hear the muffled echo of gun shots. While her mother was concerned about thieves, Alana was less worried. She knew that most people were simply trying to escape the madness and suffering. Every day, members of her class ceased to show up. The lucky ones had relocated to a different country. The luckiest ones had gone on to a different world altogether. As she took one final gulp, Alana felt warm for the first time in over a year. She was finally at peace with the darkness. Bouncing into the living room, Sheryl was practically singing the news: “Honey, I’m home and you’ll never believe what I did today!!” Heartbreakingly, the lifeless lump of her Daughter sprawled across the floor of the living room was not an uncommon occurrence these days. Except, this time something was different. Usually, there was some whimpering, or at least a murmured recognition of the mother’s arrival. Even if it was with a zombie like stare, Alana generally at least humored her mother by listening to her news. Tonight there was nothing. It was then that Sheryl noticed the empty bottle of sleeping pills peeking out from under the pillow and the drained bottle of Grey Goose nuzzled delicately in the crook of Alana’s arm.
The Earth stopped rotating about one year ago. While the eastern hemisphere is in perpetual sunlight, the western hemisphere experiences everlasting night.
Sheryl Baker could not help smiling. She had finally done it! By this time tomorrow, she and Alana would be on their way to north east Greenland: where the sunlight was. It would be risky. After all, it was critical to avoid flying the plane over any part of the ocean near the equator in the eastern hemisphere, and the financial situation was so bad that she and Alana would most likely be living in a Hostile for at least a year after arriving. Despite all this, Sheryl knew that if Alana remained darkness any longer, she would no longer have a daughter left to risk.
The neighborhood that she was driving through, not being economically well off to begin with, barely ever had its lights on. People had to save what little money they had for food and heat. It was just as well. Sheryl could not bear to see dirt plots in place of lush lawns, and dead stumps in the place of lazy willow trees.
Alana would have described it as a perpetual cloud, dark and dreary, fogging every corner of her mind and suffocating any potential spark of joy. There was only one problem. At this point even the omnipresent clouds would have been a luxury; they would have made her heart swell with joy. Even through the darkest clouds, there is some evidence of light: enough to walk outside at noon in July without a flashlight. Even through the darkest clouds, there is comfort in the fact that the sun will shine again.
Alana knew the Eastern Hemisphere was equally horrific to her Cleveland home. African immigrants had described how those living on Lake Victoria were cooked alive due to the heat of the boiling water. With plants wilting away, and the following deaths of herbivores, then carnivores, Alana had been afraid to ask what the neighboring tribes had done with the broiled bodies.
Seen the stress lines in her mother’s forehead becoming more deeply and permanently engraved each day, Alana knew that her mother always tried so hard to make her happy, tried to make her life the best it could be. Sometimes, Alana would try to smile for her mother’s sake, but it seemed that she had simply forgotten how to. She could not bear to see her mother worry over her anymore.
Arriving home from work, Sheryl had to stop, take a deep breath and say a prayer before flicking on her headlamp to approach the house. Despite the white siding, with no lights on, the apartment blended seamlessly into the night sky.
Pausing before unlocking the front door, Sheryl tried to imagine the emerald color returning to the now dishwater state of Alana’s eyes. Just the thought brought a smile to her face and she jumped to get inside and see her fantasy come true.
In all the excitement, Mrs. Baker struggled a bit with the second lock, one of the many adjustments she had made to the house when the crime rate picked up. Sheryl had always thought of her neighbors as respectable people. It is amazing what perpetual darkness can do to people.
Covered in blankets, Alana could hear the muffled echo of gun shots. While her mother was concerned about thieves, Alana was less worried. She knew that most people were simply trying to escape the madness and suffering. Every day, members of her class ceased to show up. The lucky ones had relocated to a different country. The luckiest ones had gone on to a different world altogether. As she took one final gulp, Alana felt warm for the first time in over a year. She was finally at peace with the darkness.
Bouncing into the living room, Sheryl was practically singing the news: “Honey, I’m home and you’ll never believe what I did today!!” Heartbreakingly, the lifeless lump of her Daughter sprawled across the floor of the living room was not an uncommon occurrence these days.
Except, this time something was different. Usually, there was some whimpering, or at least a murmured recognition of the mother’s arrival. Even if it was with a zombie like stare, Alana generally at least humored her mother by listening to her news. Tonight there was nothing. It was then that Sheryl noticed the empty bottle of sleeping pills peeking out from under the pillow and the drained bottle of Grey Goose nuzzled delicately in the crook of Alana’s arm.