Chapter 69 The Only Child

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Who are we? We find that we live on an insignificant planet of a humdrum star,

lost in a galaxy tucked away in some forgotten corner of the universe,

in which there are far more galaxies than people.

 

-Dr. Carl Sagan

 

Sophie

 

Sometimes I wish I had a magic ring. One that could teleport me out of here to a different, magical world. Like the Pevensie children in the Narnia books. I wish there was a magic land into the upstairs wardrobe.

Instead, I have aliens on my doorstep.

It’s not fair. My life should revolve around dating and school prom and clothes. About getting my drivers’ license and where to go for the weekend.

But I wont have that. What I have is an underground cave and a lot of people crammed up in a small space.

The only escape I have now is through books. And I don’t even have a lot of those. Every piece of music, art or story has been destroyed by the aliens when they conquered this planet. It’s too violent according to their standards. It’s ridiculous. They tell everyone how peace-loving they are, but we humans have never overthrown a planet.

No?

A voice in the back of my mind ponders, ‘how about the Moon? Mars? We sent shuts there.’

We did. But only to explore. It’s different, isn’t it?

Is it?

What if we had found alien life there?

I shake off the thought and concentrate on the story again. I flip the page. It’s Peter and Susan’s first glimpse of Narnia and I sigh. Yah sure, it’s all magical now, but pretty soon they’ll start running.

I close the book and roll on my back. Suddenly  the story hits too close to home.

I turn my head to the side and let my eyes slide over the books that are lined up on the floor. A collection of fairytales, Romeo and Juliet, The Hobbit and of course the book I am currently reading. They were all given to me by my father when I was still a child. All classics. He always believed in the importance of reading.

I love my father deeply, even though I didn’t see much of him as a child. My mom never talked about him  but I knew he had problems with the law. He came to visit us every now and then and he always brought me a present.

He never stayed long.

When I was twelve, he was arrested and sent to jail I’m not sure what crime he committed, my mother wouldn’t tell me and I’ve never asked. Even now, I don’t know, but it doesn’t seem important anymore. He came for me. And I know he would never do anything to hurt me.

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