May 30, 2009
By Anna Copper BRONZE, Montclair, New Jersey
Anna Copper BRONZE, Montclair, New Jersey
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

I live in a world much like yours. There are great cities and ramshackle towns, rulers and the impoverished, enlightenment and propaganda. Yes, my world is very, very much like yours, except for one thing- everyone, no matter how great or how learned, is held in the manipulating hand of the Sickness. I am not speaking of an outbreak of one of your diseases, like the flu, bronchitis or chicken pox- this is a disease of the mind. Suddenly, your beliefs are shaken, your mind is purged, and your memories break down. We don’t know how it spreads, only that one day, our mothers and fathers and sisters and brothers are fine, and the next they are soulless, empty beings that serve no purpose of their own. My, and my group’s aim, was to find out why, and how (if possible) to stop it.

During our search, almost half of our numbers contracted the Sickness. This, as you might imagine, made us even more focused on our goal.

Until one day, friends, we located the source of the Sickness. It came from far away, from a small blue-green planet orbiting a yellow sun. The Sickness, it seems, had spawned from the mixture of radiations and chemicals and pollutions that had wreaked havoc upon this poor planet. Until, in a time of great desperation (or so we hope) they chose to send that cloud of noxious gas to us.

Some of my kind ask, “Why would they do this to us?” or “What did we do wrong?” But I know that these questions will not get them anywhere. Those beings to condemned us to our fate surely did not know that they were sentencing us to this, but chose this after every other option was exhausted. For I know that we would never do something so cruel to a planet much like ours.

We continue to search for a cure, but our scientists warn that the chances of finding a way to vanquish the Sickness are few. I dream of a land in which it is gone, and my people become good friends and allies with the beings on the blue-green planet that I am told is called “Urth”.

Every morning when I wake up, while I know that by evening my soul may be dispatched, I dream this. I dream that one day, our children will not fear death, and cannot remember when we lived in so much terror. And though the odds are stacked against us, all I can believe is that this will be so. So, until my dream becomes a reality, I must say


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