Status: Finally going to try this idea I've had...
Curiosity Killed the Girl
An Introduction
Lights flashed sporadically across my walls: red, yellow, blue. The sirens ringing in the distance seemed as though they were an echoing memory. They were always ringing at this time of night; they rang to keep us all aware that we must stay in our homes till the sun rises again.
I was eight years old when they attacked; twelve when the walls started being built; and fourteen when The Dome was placed overhead. The Dome was placed to keep Them out and us in- to protect us. But all it really has seemed to do is make everyone, or at least me.
It's been four years since those walls and The Dome have been up, and ten long years of captivity. That is at least what it feels like in here. Like I'm in prison. At six in the morning every person in this Dome wakes up. The children go to school, the adults go to work, and the government watches. The children that are old enough to work leave the eight hour long school day and go to work. Then, at the age of sixteen we graduate and continue to work ten hour shifts.
Working where I do I have heard many rumors of how many other people have survived. Here in America there is only one million left- all in the Dome. People say there are a survivors in Japan, I mean who would have guessed? And yes, that was sarcasm. Then some in the Middle East and Germany. But that was all I have heard around here.
The countless days I have spent sowing and reaping the fields and looking up to see the endless spacecrafts fly over the Dome. And every time I wonder what they look like. Most of my dreams consist of the images I've put together myself- from all the movies that I have watched. But really, in the end, that is all they will ever be: guesses.
As you can imagine, no one is allowed outside, no one is allowed to question anything. We all must stay quiet and complacent. That has been my life for the past ten years. A life of prison.
The lights continue to flash, every night. Same with sirens. Now they are more like a lullaby. They lull me to sleep where I dream of Them.
I was eight years old when they attacked; twelve when the walls started being built; and fourteen when The Dome was placed overhead. The Dome was placed to keep Them out and us in- to protect us. But all it really has seemed to do is make everyone, or at least me.
It's been four years since those walls and The Dome have been up, and ten long years of captivity. That is at least what it feels like in here. Like I'm in prison. At six in the morning every person in this Dome wakes up. The children go to school, the adults go to work, and the government watches. The children that are old enough to work leave the eight hour long school day and go to work. Then, at the age of sixteen we graduate and continue to work ten hour shifts.
Working where I do I have heard many rumors of how many other people have survived. Here in America there is only one million left- all in the Dome. People say there are a survivors in Japan, I mean who would have guessed? And yes, that was sarcasm. Then some in the Middle East and Germany. But that was all I have heard around here.
The countless days I have spent sowing and reaping the fields and looking up to see the endless spacecrafts fly over the Dome. And every time I wonder what they look like. Most of my dreams consist of the images I've put together myself- from all the movies that I have watched. But really, in the end, that is all they will ever be: guesses.
As you can imagine, no one is allowed outside, no one is allowed to question anything. We all must stay quiet and complacent. That has been my life for the past ten years. A life of prison.
The lights continue to flash, every night. Same with sirens. Now they are more like a lullaby. They lull me to sleep where I dream of Them.
♠ ♠ ♠
So, um, yeah.... it has been awhile.