Worlds Apart - Prologue (Patreon)

Sky

July 23rd

Everything I do, I do for my family, including school. I know that in a few years, I will be able to take care of my family and provide for them in ways my parents never could or will. And that's because I was gifted with a mind that far exceeds the average human.

The sound of my father’s fork against his glass pulls the attention of the guests. Family members from all over came to celebrate one of the youngest PhD candidates in the country. And as I look at all the smiling faces, I see now that it will be worth it.

“I know we’ve only just ended another semester. But I can’t describe to all of you how proud I am of my baby girl, Sky. From the moment she came into this world, she was curious. And soon, she will have the world at her fingertips. I love you, Sky. And I couldn’t be prouder,” he says.

I smile, holding up my glass of water as my father toasts to me.

To me, this day is everything I could have dreamed of. One more year of this, and I will have my PhD in molecular and cellular biology. I will be putting my life on hold for the next few years but that never stopped me. I graduated high school and college early for this, and I’m not even old enough to drive yet. 

“To Sky!” I smile as everyone raises their glass to celebrate my accomplishment. I don’t plan on stopping here. With not only my degrees under my belt but the academic achievements of a woman so young, the job offers will line up. I already have grants to apply to research of my choice. Unfortunately, most companies can’t approach me for job offers until I turn sixteen. But that doesn’t mean they haven’t already begun speaking to my father about it.

I spend the afternoon speaking to my family about my future. My father does his usual bit of staying behind the grill because we both know he is terrible at conversation. My mother is the extrovert of the family. I, however, gained my father’s personality. I get anxious speaking to people, even if they are family, but my mother says all I have to do is be interested in their lives. And its worked so far. 

“How many more years do you have until you graduate?” My aunt asks as she snuggles next to me. 

“Just one more year,” I say softly. 

My mother chooses to interrupt us, pulling me in tight as she continues the conversation for me.

“She has already interned at a few places over the summers, but since her sixteenth birthday is coming up, she should receive a few offers,” she says, smiling.

She continues the conversation with my aunt, squeezing my shoulder in comfort. I love that my mother knows when to come and save me from my own lack of socializing. 

So, I take the opportunity to move away from her, allowing her to continue the conversation as I stand near my father. He smiles upon my approach, going on about how proud he is and how amazed he is at how smart I am. 

“I was never as smart as you; I don’t know where you got that from,” he says, smiling. 

I’ve watched my family struggle for years for things that are out of our control. But my parents never complained. They never let me see just how hard they worked to provide a stable life for me. My mother works as a nurse, and her hours are not conducive to raising a child, which is why I rarely saw her growing up. And my father is a car salesman. But I’ve seen how the big corporations that have moved closer to town are making profiting at his lot difficult. And because he doesn’t have a degree, the opportunity to work at a luxury lot eludes him. 

They think that I don’t notice, but I do. I see how their health is rapidly declining from all of the stress. I notice how they’re up late at night trying to figure out how to pay for everything. But it won’t be like that forever. I’m so close, I can almost touch it.

“What the hell?” 

I look up at my father’s words but he isn’t looking at me or the grill, he’s looking toward the sky. I follow the direction of his gaze and see it, my eyes widening from the massive size of the object that floats effortlessly in the sky. 

“What is that?” I ask. 

It looks nothing like any military planes I’ve ever seen. And even from this distance, it seems massive. 

I tense when the sound of sirens begin to sound in the distance, just as the radio cuts out, and the three beeps signifying a national emergency sounds. 

“This is not a test. We repeat, this is not a test. There have been sightings of a foreign...”

“Oh my God,” my mother’s voice sounds from across the yard. I look at the faces of my family, all twisted in terror, as the emergency broadcast ends abruptly, followed by loud static and a strange new voice.

“Terra. Your planet has become volatile, destructive, and reached the end of its days in your solar system. You have now become the property of the Leviathan empire. Do not resist, and there will be no need to apply violent force.” 

“Is this a joke?” My Dad whispers next to me as he tries to switch the station, but the broadcast continues on every station, uninterrupted.

I scream as the sound of fighter jets blasts overhead, flying over our houses, followed by the continued broadcast of the foreign voice. My family members stand as their phones ring, their families calling to make sure they’re okay. My mother's phone rings as well, and she answers, looking at us with wide eyes.

“It’s the hospital, they need—”

“Are you crazy? You’re not leaving when we don’t even know what the hell is going on!”

I tune out my parents, my eyes focused on the ship in the distance. It continues to hover, its looming presence ending the world as we know it and introducing us to one we weren’t prepared for. As my parents begin to argue, the buildings in the distance slowly begin to crumble, just as the sounds of weapons firing fill the once peaceful air.

I laugh softly, taking a sip of my water, making sure to savor the cool taste.

Any future I had in mind has been stripped away. Any life we thought to have is gone proving once again that life is cruel. I may never get to drink clean water again after this. I may never stand with my parents together like this again, and I may never see food like this again. From this day forward, the life I thought to have lived is gone. 

Now, as we always have, we must adapt.