This is the next installment in my story! Once again, I hope you enjoy it, and please don't post this anywhere or copy in any way.
Since the rising water levels began to take over the larger continents, the wealthiest people on Earth began to value their own safety. I remember watching the news one day on our old, 80 inch Vizio television and seeing the trillionaire Caden Trumino talk about building an “...elevated island that can hold millions, you know, for the greater good.” But now, I am not sure whether that was his intent. Those islands, built by human workers, may be safer than here, but there’s something about them that we Earth-livers know is wrong. No word passes between Earth and those islands. The walls around the two major islands grow higher each day, and sometimes I think I see a scraggly person’s head peek over the top of a wall. I think I see them pleading directly to me for help. I think I see their hand reach out, gripping the other side of the thick wall, groping as if the other side was their only salvation. But then, they always disappear, harshly, as if they were pulled down by something much stronger than them. My family had never wanted to risk going up to one of those islands. But now, we had to make a decision.
Journee and I walk back to our apartment building. Journee walks into her room, carrying her now broken robotic dog. I shut the door behind her and turn to my mother, who is looking quite worried. “Adryn, what happened to your sister? I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help…” she says, gripping onto the wooden top of our kitchen table.
“Mother, I know you don’t want to hear this, but I think we might have to move up to one of those islands. It’s for Journee’s safety,” I tell her, expecting a horrified response, which I was right to expect.
“Oh my goodness, Adryn! You know what I’ve told you about what goes on up there! It can’t possibly be safer than down here. Even if we die, it’s better to die from natural causes than whatever happens...” She shudders, “... there.” I wonder if there is anything she isn’t telling me. I have seen those people peek over the walls, but I never have understood why.
I suddenly have an idea. “Mother, what if we make our own structure? I know we’ll need supplies, but I can try and take some from the other islands!”
My mother sighs as if she doesn’t trust me, but she reluctantly agrees to let me try. I know she has everyone’s safety in mind. She mumbles something about telling our town about this, then leaves our small home. Later, I fall asleep thinking about how much better our lives would be if we didn’t have to worry about water flooding our house every day. I remember how when I was younger, I had nightmares about what lurks deep in that water. In my sleep I would see petrifying sharks with tiny red eyes and gaping mouths filled with needle-sharp teeth. I would see them grow legs and open my mother’s bedroom door, and I would almost taste the rotting smell they gave off. The smell would fade away as they moved towards the other rooms in the house, towards my mother, who was always fast asleep. I would make a consistent effort to pull myself up from my bed, shouting “No, you can’t do this! Leave us alone!” but I would always have to succumb to the invisible pressure pushing me back down, hopeless.
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