Planet or Plastic (Wattpad Challenge)

The First (and only) Part of Our Story

The beauty of our land will soon be diminished if we keep treating it with the same mortality we treat ourselves.

That's the simple fact of it. That's all of it right there. You see, we say to live in the moment; tomorrow is another day; the past is in the past; nothing matters but right now. Take your pick of sayings, whatever it may be.

In the end, however, it's a whole other story, because our planet does not exist only for the time we live it. It is something that is beyond human understanding. We do not understand it but nevertheless, we should respect it.

Respect it because the term 'force of nature' should have meaning. It is not just for a strong individual but for the very reason this term has meaning. Nature is strong, beautiful, and not something for us to control.

Respect it because we are not the only living thing. Everything from the smallest insect to the biggest mammal lives here and shares this planet with us. We have taken over and built cities on another's home.

Respect it because it is not ours to take. We lay ownership claims on land, materials, and so on without once realizing that this is not ours in the slightest. We exist here, survive here, and that is it.

We use waste like there is no tomorrow, when in fact this planet had existed longer than we can fathom and will continue to do so. Play with toys made of chemicals. Use plastic and then dispose of it, littering the land and seas with whatever waste we do not want.

Then we look away.

Look away from the sea turtle chewing on the inedible. Look away as a dolphin gets tangled up in nets. Look away from the dead and dying animals because we have more care for ourselves than we do for others.

* * *

I snap my workbook closed and stare out of the window. The window I could never open for fear of the toxic air. Not that I could see much of anything anyway. I could've seen the ocean from the beach house if the air was brighter. It wasn't. 

It's okay, I have my poster from the early 2000's, where the ocean still glittered. Now it's a murky grey. Like burnt soup. Something that shouldn't be possible but we had managed to do (and my mother had managed to burn the soup).

I stroke the closed cover. I just repeated something many have said before but now how much do I wish that someone had listened so that I may swim in the ocean. It sounded fun. Now the very air was toxic and my story had no point.

It is too late now.