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body div#devskin0 hr { }

The Red Planet
     Blades of grass tickled in between my toes, as we hiked barefoot to the top of a hill. I could hear my friend Oriola breathing beside me. There was no moonlight there, but the stars in the night sky burned bright enough, that we could only just see where we’re going. At the top of the hill, we found a large rock with a smooth top, and sat down on its cool face. We sat in silence, watching the stars as if they would all disappear if we tore our gaze from them.
     “I heard we will be able to see Earth tonight, the brightest in a long time.” Oriola said. I nodded my head to acknowledge her. “Can you see it yet?”

     “Hold on, I’m still trying to find it.” I said. I found it hard to imagine, that for hundreds of years our kind used to do exactly the same thing. They would sit on a hill just like us, and point up at the tiny red dot in their sky that was our planet, and say, “Look, there’s Mars.”

     “I see it!” Oriola says excitedly. She lifted a slender finger and I followed it until her fingertip reached a tiny but bright blue dot in the pitch black. “Look it’s Earth. Isn’t it beautiful?” My mom and dad came from there so many years ago, that planet of unimaginable possibilities. Using only my imagination, and the few stories my parents told, I painted the landscape of Earth in my mind. There would be cities, with skyscrapers that touched the sky, shining like towers made of mirrors. It would be a peaceful, beautiful place, unlike the descriptions of poverty and deadly pollution given by our history textbooks. That was all they taught us about in history class, a pointless act; as this was the closest I’d ever get to that mysterious blue planet.

     “Maybe someday, you and me, we’ll both be on that little blue dot, staring up in the sky and looking back at this little planet.” Oriola said. I smiled although I really didn’t think so, and said nothing. The familiar sound of a military patrol jet over our heads brought us back to the surface, where we were greeted by the harshness of reality. It reminded me that we are not as safe as we’d like, out there on the grassy hill, by the farmhouse.

     “Let’s go, it’s getting cold out here.” Oriola pulled her school jacket tighter. I knew it wasn't the cold. I could almost read her mind. I agreed with her and we started towards the house.

     There was a bright flash of light, brighter than anything I’ve ever experienced. When it was gone there was darkness more complete than the night. I saw the faint outline of Oriola next to me, shaking, frozen in the spot, petrified beyond imagination. I grabbed her quivering hand and pulled her down until our noses touched the dewy grass. There was an earsplitting bang; like all the sounds of the world were sucked away then all came rushing back like water gushing from a broken dam. The quiet that followed was almost unnatural, like there was noise all around us but somehow the silence was louder.

    “The jet, somebody destroyed the jet.” Her voice was a shaking whisper. I hardly believed her until I unfolded myself from my crouched position on the ground. The field beyond the hill became a fiery death trap of twisted metal. Oriola pulled at my hand, which I realized was still attached to hers;

    “We need to get out of here.” Her voice was muffled. She had her shirt pulled over her mouth and nose.

    “What?”

    “We need to-” The wail of air raid sirens drowned out the rest of her sentence. Smoke from the crash drifted up over the hill like tendrils of a shadowy mist. It stung my eyes, and I could barely breathe without the smoke burning my throat. I too pulled my shirt over my face, and start picking my way towards the smoldering wreckage. “Where are you going?” Oriola shouted, her voice barely audible over the sound of the siren.

    “Checking if anyone survived!” I yelled back.

    “Are you crazy?” She screamed. “There’s nothing left to look for!” I knew she was right, but part of me wanted to hold on to the chance that someone was still alive in there. That maybe somewhere within the blackened skeleton of a steel giant, there was a person that meant the world to someone. I pretended to not hear her. She didn't have any idea what it was like, to lose someone to war.

    The further I traveled towards the wreck the more it seemed like another world, a world of fire and death. The smoke was so thick I knew I couldn’t stay here long without suffocating. A faint red light in the distance caught my eyes; it blinked on and off. It was a safety beacon, but I didn’t want to get my hopes up. They automatically activated on impact, which didn’t necessarily mean whomever it belonged to was alive. I followed it, and with every step I dreaded what I would find when I reached it. I heard a feeble cough coming from ahead, and I threw away all the dread that made my feet heavy, and ran faster than I ever thought I could.

    There I found him, a man, no, a boy no older than me by two years like my brother had been. He was unconscious in the heap of metal that used to be the cockpit. I didn’t know how I gathered up the strength to do it, but I managed to pull him out of the twisted metal. Every pull and yank made me realize there was no way I could pull him all the way over the hill alone. I started to get very anxious, I knew there is a possibility the fuel could ignite and explode. We were sitting ducks just waiting to be torched. I called Oriola’s name, she was the only person I knew would hear me. She was our only hope. Her face slowly came into view just over the hill, and I knew we were saved.

    “Quick, help me get him out of here!” I shouted. She looked reluctant to come near the wreck. But despite that, she slid herself very carefully down the steep grassy slope of the hill, and hurried towards us. “Here, you take his shoulders, I’ll grab his feet.”

    “We need to get him to a clinic fast!” She said, as we hauled him over the peak of the hill. “There’s no car, get the bike!”

    It was a long ride to the city, pedaling against the weight of three people. It was the first time I’d gone since I was little. My parents always warned me that the city was no place for a farmer’s daughter. It was too dangerous they said. Even when I got older they would always leave me behind when they went. And as we got closer, the smoke rising from became clearer. All I could do was hope my parents were okay.

    The clinic was a scene of chaos. Disheveled doctors and nurses bustled around; many of them looked as if they haven’t slept in days. The clinic was filled with people, some crying, some begging the poor man at the desk. We felt so out of place there, standing in the ever-lengthening queue. We had not lost, nor were we injured in some horrible way like many of the others. We were simply there.

    The doctors didn’t talk to us much when they took the pilot off our hands. All they asked of us was our names, then shooed us away. They were obviously busy, and had no time to deal with a couple lost teenagers. That was the last we ever really saw of the nameless pilot, we never even knew whether he lived or not.

Description
body div#devskin0 hr { }

The Red Planet
     Blades of grass tickled in between my toes, as we hiked barefoot to the top of a hill. I could hear my friend Oriola breathing beside me. There was no moonlight there, but the stars in the night sky burned bright enough, that we could only just see where we’re going. At the top of the hill, we found a large rock with a smooth top, and sat down on its cool face. We sat in silence, watching the stars as if they would all disappear if we tore our gaze from them.
     “I heard we will be able to see Earth tonight, the brightest in a long time.” Oriola said. I nodded my head to acknowledge her. “Can you see it yet?”

     “Hold on, I’m still trying to find it.” I said. I found it hard to imagine, that for hundreds of years our kind used to do exactly the same thing. They would sit on a hill just like us, and point up at the tiny red dot in their sky that was our planet, and say, “Look, there’s Mars.”

     “I see it!” Oriola says excitedly. She lifted a slender finger and I followed it until her fingertip reached a tiny but bright blue dot in the pitch black. “Look it’s Earth. Isn’t it beautiful?” My mom and dad came from there so many years ago, that planet of unimaginable possibilities. Using only my imagination, and the few stories my parents told, I painted the landscape of Earth in my mind. There would be cities, with skyscrapers that touched the sky, shining like towers made of mirrors. It would be a peaceful, beautiful place, unlike the descriptions of poverty and deadly pollution given by our history textbooks. That was all they taught us about in history class, a pointless act; as this was the closest I’d ever get to that mysterious blue planet.

     “Maybe someday, you and me, we’ll both be on that little blue dot, staring up in the sky and looking back at this little planet.” Oriola said. I smiled although I really didn’t think so, and said nothing. The familiar sound of a military patrol jet over our heads brought us back to the surface, where we were greeted by the harshness of reality. It reminded me that we are not as safe as we’d like, out there on the grassy hill, by the farmhouse.

     “Let’s go, it’s getting cold out here.” Oriola pulled her school jacket tighter. I knew it wasn't the cold. I could almost read her mind. I agreed with her and we started towards the house.

     There was a bright flash of light, brighter than anything I’ve ever experienced. When it was gone there was darkness more complete than the night. I saw the faint outline of Oriola next to me, shaking, frozen in the spot, petrified beyond imagination. I grabbed her quivering hand and pulled her down until our noses touched the dewy grass. There was an earsplitting bang; like all the sounds of the world were sucked away then all came rushing back like water gushing from a broken dam. The quiet that followed was almost unnatural, like there was noise all around us but somehow the silence was louder.

    “The jet, somebody destroyed the jet.” Her voice was a shaking whisper. I hardly believed her until I unfolded myself from my crouched position on the ground. The field beyond the hill became a fiery death trap of twisted metal. Oriola pulled at my hand, which I realized was still attached to hers;

    “We need to get out of here.” Her voice was muffled. She had her shirt pulled over her mouth and nose.

    “What?”

    “We need to-” The wail of air raid sirens drowned out the rest of her sentence. Smoke from the crash drifted up over the hill like tendrils of a shadowy mist. It stung my eyes, and I could barely breathe without the smoke burning my throat. I too pulled my shirt over my face, and start picking my way towards the smoldering wreckage. “Where are you going?” Oriola shouted, her voice barely audible over the sound of the siren.

    “Checking if anyone survived!” I yelled back.

    “Are you crazy?” She screamed. “There’s nothing left to look for!” I knew she was right, but part of me wanted to hold on to the chance that someone was still alive in there. That maybe somewhere within the blackened skeleton of a steel giant, there was a person that meant the world to someone. I pretended to not hear her. She didn't have any idea what it was like, to lose someone to war.

    The further I traveled towards the wreck the more it seemed like another world, a world of fire and death. The smoke was so thick I knew I couldn’t stay here long without suffocating. A faint red light in the distance caught my eyes; it blinked on and off. It was a safety beacon, but I didn’t want to get my hopes up. They automatically activated on impact, which didn’t necessarily mean whomever it belonged to was alive. I followed it, and with every step I dreaded what I would find when I reached it. I heard a feeble cough coming from ahead, and I threw away all the dread that made my feet heavy, and ran faster than I ever thought I could.

    There I found him, a man, no, a boy no older than me by two years like my brother had been. He was unconscious in the heap of metal that used to be the cockpit. I didn’t know how I gathered up the strength to do it, but I managed to pull him out of the twisted metal. Every pull and yank made me realize there was no way I could pull him all the way over the hill alone. I started to get very anxious, I knew there is a possibility the fuel could ignite and explode. We were sitting ducks just waiting to be torched. I called Oriola’s name, she was the only person I knew would hear me. She was our only hope. Her face slowly came into view just over the hill, and I knew we were saved.

    “Quick, help me get him out of here!” I shouted. She looked reluctant to come near the wreck. But despite that, she slid herself very carefully down the steep grassy slope of the hill, and hurried towards us. “Here, you take his shoulders, I’ll grab his feet.”

    “We need to get him to a clinic fast!” She said, as we hauled him over the peak of the hill. “There’s no car, get the bike!”

    It was a long ride to the city, pedaling against the weight of three people. It was the first time I’d gone since I was little. My parents always warned me that the city was no place for a farmer’s daughter. It was too dangerous they said. Even when I got older they would always leave me behind when they went. And as we got closer, the smoke rising from became clearer. All I could do was hope my parents were okay.

    The clinic was a scene of chaos. Disheveled doctors and nurses bustled around; many of them looked as if they haven’t slept in days. The clinic was filled with people, some crying, some begging the poor man at the desk. We felt so out of place there, standing in the ever-lengthening queue. We had not lost, nor were we injured in some horrible way like many of the others. We were simply there.

    The doctors didn’t talk to us much when they took the pilot off our hands. All they asked of us was our names, then shooed us away. They were obviously busy, and had no time to deal with a couple lost teenagers. That was the last we ever really saw of the nameless pilot, we never even knew whether he lived or not.