There was something beautiful in the way the sky fell.
Despite the chaos that erupted every time the glistening crystals fell to the earth like lethal snowflakes. Despite the fact that a single slice from a shard could poison you enough to kill you, I still constantly fought the urge to walk out into the open, where the flurries of glass-like pieces would swirl around me and graze my skin as they swept past. It wasn’t a destructive desire. It was just the way the outside world seemed to taunt us, forcing us to cower in shelters and taking away our freedom of feeling safe in the nature we once thought was ours.
We deserved it, in a way. It was humankind that did this to ourselves. If it wasn’t for the centuries of endless pollution, the degradation of the environment, the blatant disregard for the effects of overusing resources and the damage it was causing, we wouldn’t be in this mess. And once we realized it, it was too late.
Silvia let me complain to her about it every time we had to wait out a sky storm. Which was pretty often. At least once a month. We’d file into these bunkers and lock ourselves in for around a week, though the storms only lasted a few minutes. They told us the radiation and pollution was too bad for our bodies to handle, so for two days before and about 5 days after a storm, we’d let the storm pass and test the atmosphere for tolerable levels before we ventured back out.
Silvia and I were one of the only ones that really seemed to be concerned about what would become of humankind and our earth, especially if we just continued ignoring the worsening destruction of the planet, huddling together underground in ignorance instead of taking action. We’ve never done much about it either, though. I mean, what would we do? The only choice we had was to keep discussing about it while the rest of our community went on with their normal lives in the bunker.
Today was no different. Silvia and I sat under one of the sky lights in the bunker, gazing out of the window above us, waiting for the sky storm to start. It was the second day of us being locked down here this month, and according to our schedule, the storm should’ve started at any moment. As per usual, Silvia and I were vehemently ranting to each other about how the refusal of us to take any action would eventually lead to our destruction soon. Eventually, we fell out of conversation, bored of the same repeating dialogue every time we sat waiting in the bunker, and instead just stared out of the sky light.
We could tell the storm was going to start soon. The wind was picking up and tiny crystallized shards were beginning to scrape the several-inches-thick glass of the sky light. One of the main reasons Silvia and I always felt frustrated was because no one bothered to explain to us how this really happened.
All we would receive is some vague answer about how the holes in the ozone layer had gotten bigger, that the harmful rays from the sun now have the chance to interact with the hundreds of toxic pollutants hanging around in the atmosphere. We’ve pieced together that these primary pollutants form secondary pollutants, which clump with each other and other particulates and meld to form these rock hard shards resembling broken pieces of glass, except this glass could kill you upon contact. We understood even less about how that worked. Apparently this information wasn’t safe enough to be given to the public, or the public wasn’t important enough to be informed. Either way, no matter how much we asked for details, we never got them.
The storm was picking up. As the chaos grew gradually louder outside the bunker, we remained silent within it. I watched as the larger clumps formed in the sky and dropped from the air, only to be whipped away from the beating wind. It was the prettiest part of the whole storm— not that it was meant to be beautiful at all. It was a pretty part of an ugly reality. It looked like the sky was falling, hence the name “sky storm”.
I expected the storm to worsen over the course of the next few minutes like it always did, but this time, something was different. This time, something outside caught my eye, and it was moving toward us. I kept my eyes glued on the moving speck at the edge of the sky light, slowly lifting myself off the ground as I motioned for Silvia to do the same.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” she asked, panic evident in her voice. When I didn’t respond, she followed my gaze outside, and I heard her suck in her breath when she spotted the thing I was watching.
“Is that—”
“It can’t be,” I interrupted her, feeling fear, excitement, and confusion rising within me. I nudged her towards the door, keeping my gaze firmly planted on the form moving closer.
“Tell them to open the door. Now.” I said once I was sure of what it was. I could hear Silvia’s footsteps flying and her shrieks echoing down the hall as she called for a guard, a scientist, anyone. I began to tune out the commands yelled out to retrain her and instead reached out to touch the glass above me.
It was almost surreal, the scene playing out outside of the bunker. The only thing that I could think was— how? It was only feet away from the skylight, and I watched as it stepped closer and closer towards me. The person looked down, searching for something under the sand and the shards, when their eyes locked with mine. And the realization dawned on me: I knew who she was.
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.