In A Kinder World

January 7th or maybe 9th, 2038

Dear Diary,

Dad was able to get me a journal today when he went trading for supplies.. He said, “With how much you love to read, I bet you would make a fine author.” He even suggested I record everything that's happened recently. I guess before all this happened there was a girl, about my age, whose diary was taught in school. I asked Dad what happened to her, he said she lived in a dangerous time but told me I was “too young” for specifics. So here we go.

My name is Sara and I am twelve years old. Five years ago people started disappearing. No one could figure out why. Entire city blocks of people would disappear overnight, with no pattern. People would go to investigate these areas, but would rarely come out and if they did they were not the same. Every few days new areas would become a “dead zone”. The world held on as long as it could before too many people disappeared to sustain normal life. Eventually, my mom was one who disappeared. We weren't with her the day before, I don’t remember why and Dad can’t talk about it yet. Slowly the government dissolved as its officials and population disappeared and the country fell into a sort of tribal government. The best way to survive was to join a big tribe or, as some preferred, to raid those tribes for supplies. The problem for most people is that the tribes are exclusive. Unless you provide a unique skill you and your family will be turned away. Dad secured us a spot in the largest tribe of the area a month ago. Before the disappearances he was a scientist, an astrophysicist. We were lucky, we would bounce to larger and larger tribes. Dad would just go up to them and say “In a kinder world I was a scientist” that was usually enough. He would tell me “People assume a lot when you say things like that. They assume you’re the smartest person they’ve met. When really I just know enough about the sky to build a calendar and find our location.” The calendar was his big trick. To prove himself we would build this special sundial, Dad calls it an armillary sundial, it tells the date and the time. Dad told me our secret is they aren’t really accurate. The best one we made was about three days and ten minutes off, but that's good enough to know how close winter is, and in what used to be Michigan that's what people care about. Our current tribe thought it was impressive though and they made Dad a member of their leading council. And that is how we ended up here.

January 26th or 28th, 2038

Dear Diary,

Last night we were attacked by one of the raiding tribes. None of the tribes Dad and I were a part of before had been attacked. It feels weird to know someone is coming and wants to hurt you. Especially since Dad is expected to help defend the tribe now that he is on the council. He isn’t much of a fighter, most of the time when we were between tribes we would just run if something seemed slightly dangerous. We don’t even have any weapons except a pistol Dad inherited from his dad. It wasn’t long though, the sound of fighting ended after about an hour. That was almost scarier than the fight, I didn’t know if we had won or lost, but Dad came back shortly after. He told me a lot about it, he said “It was strange, they ran past food and water like they were after something specific.” I asked him what they wanted but he just brushed it off and said “I don’t know.” I could tell he was thinking deep though, he always stares out the window and gently mumbles his thoughts when he is thinking. I tried to read his lips or listen to what he says but to even call it a whisper is an overstatement. I hope we just give them what they want, I don’t think Dad could last many more fights.

February 1st or 3rd, 2038

Dear Diary,

There have been attacks everyday since I last wrote. The people have been getting closer, I could see the fight from the window of our little shack. I saw a man I didn’t know from our tribe kill someone. It feels so wrong. When they were just the bad guys it was easy not to think about it, but I've seen them. They’re just normal people. The strange part is as he was fighting the raider kept saying “Give us the girl and your people will know peace.”

February 4th or 6th, 2038

Dear Diary,

Today is Dad's birthday, or it would be soon the calendar we made is a few days off. Today was not a good day though. Dad had to go to a meeting of the council early today, I wanted to surprise him and be there when it was over. I was going to let him read my diary to see the record I’ve kept, he would like that for his birthday, he loves to read. So I followed him quietly to the building they held the meetings in and sat under the window. I could hear them talking, the window was mostly broken out of the frame, that way I would know when they’re done. The meeting quickly became an argument though. It was hard to tell but it sounded like they were mad at Dad. One woman said “They all say it. Give us the girl and your people will know peace. We have never had raids before and I think we know who they want.” A man responded “How could we possibly know?” It was quiet for a moment then I heard someone catch something. Then Dad's voice came through “There's no way. This has been missing for years. It can’t be.” The woman's voice interrupted him and she was angry “It has to be. Figure it out or we will figure it out for you.” I didn’t like them yelling at Dad, so I ran home. At least I would feel safe there. A few minutes after I got home dad came in and tossed me my backpack in silence. He held a heart-shaped locket dangling from a chain. He said “This was found on a raider killed by our home. It was your mothers.” He opened it to reveal a picture of a girl maybe 4 years old. “That's you,” he told me. I stood there shocked as he put the locket on me. After a moment of silence Dad said with a tone of stern severity “I think it’s time to go dear.”

We spent that afternoon packing up what we had. Dad grabbed the couple books on navigation by stars and how to build our sundials. I didn’t know what to pack. I grabbed some blankets and the cookies an old lady in the tribe makes. I made sure to grab my journal and pens. We spent that whole day gathering what we would take. Finally, as night came Dad took his gun and packed it away, and we ran. We wound quickly past all the makeshift buildings and roads to the gate where Dad slipped the guard a small package. The guard looked around nervously and let us out the gate. We went on for several hours moving as fast as we could. After the moon reached its highest point we stopped by an old barn to rest. We set a small campfire and had a small supper. After which we sat quietly. I spoke up, “Dad, I’ve been recording what's been happening in my journal. Do you want to read it?” He looked shocked but replied “Of course, kiddo.” After a few minutes he put down my journal and looked at me, a tear rolled down his face. “Happy Birthday, Dad” I walked over to hug him. He gave me a tight hug and whispered “Sweetie, in a kinder world, you would’ve been an amazing writer.”