Sci Fi
In My Solitude
We never knew it would come to this, but someone should have guessed. When the experiments began and the news reports hardly mentioned a thing about them, we all should have asked more questions. Every incidence of strangeness started shortly thereafter, when the government sanctioned those strange light shows in the sky – the ones that seemed to slice through the very fabric of our world and let something twisted and wrong creep into our reality. I remember what it felt like when I first saw those lights; stomach dropping into my socks, and a shiver of dread from head to toe. Strangely, I don’t remember saying anything to anyone about how they made me feel when I was looking up at them, not even Sam knew. Even with each shocking crack of amber light striking anticipatory fear deeper into my heart, I kept my silence – and so did everyone else. “Best to just not look at them,” that’s what I told myself.
By Angel Labove5 years ago in Fiction
Countdown
A continuous breeze swept across the tall grass causing waves of sunlight to be reflected off the browned surfaces of the dying field. It was as if with each wave that swept across, the life was being drained slowly away from the beating heart of the once vibrant ecosystem.
By Marco Vazquez5 years ago in Fiction
“To Die in a Lullaby”
My grandfather would always tell me tales of a past world... full of natural life. He described to me realms abundant with organic lifeforms formed from the planet, rather than the corporate laboratories I was so familiar with. I wouldn’t have believed him if it wasn’t for the photographs he shared with me on that holotape so many years ago. What I would’ve done just for a chance to see it for myself.
By Tanner Stone5 years ago in Fiction
These City Lights
We used to watch those city lights flicker on and off like fireflies. Asking silly questions like, “who do you think lives in that building over there?” or “how many people across the lake do you think are playing World of Warcraft right now? Or having sex?”
By Rachel M.J5 years ago in Fiction
Bad Air
This world isn’t great, but we manage. Somehow, I mean. Manage. Me and my family. My grandparents like to show me pictures of how the world used to be, so different from what it is now. Blue skies, clouds that came and went, flourishing flora and fauna, breathable air. Can you imagine? But those are all things that used to be. It’s not like that now. The sky is usually a blood red from the fires that burn from the Rebellion that happened all over, but it can be a sickly pale yellow when the fire season is over. That’s when the dust and debris that constantly floats in the air is much easier to see. But with how dirty the air looks all the time, even on good days, I sometimes prefer the blood red sky. At least it lets me pretend. A little. As much as one could, anyway, in this dystopian world.
By Sugar Dierown5 years ago in Fiction
