This island is afloat. Attached to no land mass, it drifts as it pleases. Going whichever way the tide takes it.
This is his home.
It is a small island. Far less than a square kilometer. Room enough for a cave, and two large trees. They’re rather like bonsai trees — if you were godzilla sized. Their trunks twist upwards, like gnarled fingers reaching for the sun.
He sits there with his two items of interest, under the largest tree. Its leaves shading him from the bright sun. A slight breeze making a calming rustling sound.
Yes, so calming. That’s what I need. He thought. Something to keep him from acknowledging it.
I must remain calm. That is my goal, my reason for being.
He doesn’t remember a time before sitting under that tree. A short distance away is his cave, should he get sleepy. Though he doesn’t recall ever tiring. Nor any nights for that matter. Which seems odd, but he’s not sure why. He doesn’t remember why it should seem odd. But it does. He’s sure of it.
Then it stirs in his chest.
Oh no. No, I must distract myself.
He picked up his first item of interest. He slowly turned it in his hands. An empty glass container, with white particles suspended in a liquid within. The word comes into his mind: Snowglobe.
Yes, that’s it. I don’t remember ever seeing one before, but that’s what it’s called. Although, something is wrong. Shouldn’t there be something in it other than just snow? The more he contemplates it, he’s positive that it’s wrong.
He looks closer at the inside of it, at the base. There’s a faint outline of where something used to be. It does a cartwheel in his chest.
Something is missing! But what? What was it? Who was it? Did they want to leave? Was it looking for something? Is it some sort of a metaphor?
He felt a burning sensation in his gut. He was on to something. He knew it. But what? If only it would stop wailing.
It was always there, distracting him, attacking him, enraging him. Doing everything it could to escape its cage. He could feel it rising again.
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
After a moment, he opened his eyes and looked at his other item of interest. Another glass container. Only this one was larger, and it had something inside of it.
Fireflies. They joyously danced with one another. Excitement charging their dance, and their behinds. He smiles. Serenity.
But were they dancing? Was that joy? His heart jumped.
No, it wasn’t joy. They aren’t dancing. They’re frantic. They trapped! They want out, out of their little glass prison. They want freedom. They were continually slamming their bodies against their jail cell, ignoring the damage it did to themselves.
Pain didn’t matter. Death didn’t matter. They had to be released, they had to be free!
His chest was on fire, it was struggling to be free. Free of its jail cell, free of his rib cage. And he wanted it to be free, who cares if it hurt? Who cares if it takes his heart with it? He’d be free. Finally, blissfully free!
He slams the jar down in front of him. It shatters loudly, pieces of glass fling in every direction. Bits of glass cut his legs. But it didn’t matter. They were free.
Now it was its turn, his turn.
The world around him exploded in light. He wasn’t on the island anymore. He was on… A table?
The light was blinding. He had a hard time focussing his eyes. The glare was painful.
He could sense people around him. Hovering over him. They were surprised. Maybe even a little scared.
What was that coming out of his chest?
One of the people reached over his head and turned something and he nodded off.
At home on my island, like always. He sighed.
Calmness. Serenity. They are my reason for being.
Or, wait. Are they? He frowned slightly.
His heart thumped in his chest. Louder and louder. Drowning out his contemplations with a single desire: FREEDOM
He had to leave the island! he wasn’t sure how, or even why. Just that his life depended on it. He clutched his chest. He would surely die if he stayed here!
He got up and ran to the nearest shore. It didn’t take long.
OOPS! TIMES UP
Well, I’m sorry to say I ran out of time on this challenge.
Where I was going:
He has to escape, get away from that island. He jumps in the water. And swims and swims. Water tearing at him. His muscles aching, no longer able to move him forward. He sees something on the horizon… He finally makes it to find out…
It’s the same island.
He snaps, he runs into his cave and pulls out the snow globe. Smashes on the ground. He climbs the highest tree and sees nothing but water.
He slips on the way down and hits his head.
Another flash of light. This time he can make out more. Three little men, with bulging dark eyes. One had a… Scalpel? What was going on?! He could’t take it anymore.
Waking up back on the island, he jumps into the water and swims down. Down until the pressure hurt his ears. His lungs on fire.
He wakes up on a table in a space ship, aliens all around him. Observing him. A tube was running from his chest into the ceiling.
He screams and freaks out.
The aliens are surprised, this has never happened before. He rips the tube out of the ceiling.
He. Must. Escape.
“These Terrans can’t be controlled. Our neural suppressant didn’t have the desired effect. In fact, quite the opposite, the subject is increasingly psychotic. It’s… It’s loose on the ship now.” The little gray man swallowed, fear creeping into his voice. “I fear this will be my last transmission. I’m getting reports of damage across all ship’s systems, please tell my family th–”
The view screen in front of Kr’Phlac dimmed.
“That was the last transmission from the exploratory crew, sir.” Vr’Blohg, his adjunct, said.
“I see.” Kr’Phlac gazed at the blank screen for a moment.
“What do we do sir? Nothing like that has ever happened with any of the other species! Should we proceed with the subjugation phase?”
“Ha!” Kr’Phlac barked out a laugh. “Are you kidding? One of these things destroyed a whole ship. No, there are only two options. We either give them a wide berth, or…”
“Or we destroy them completely.” Kr’Phlac said.
Vr’Blohg looked at the view screen for a moment. “Yes. It’s the only way.”
They started the invasion plan that very day.
(Not) Published on March 13, 2013