What if

I am the pilot of the U.S. Mercury. Our earth has been scorched by the sun and war, we couldn’t stay any longer. I wasn’t born on that world, I was born here, on this cramped vessel bound for oblivion. My duties are to keep this hunk of steel away from obstacles. I follow orders from a counsel of five, changing direction when they see fit. I don’t know where we are going so don’t ask me, that’s above my pay grade. From birth I was told I had one job and if I didn’t do that job I couldn’t stay here. I didn’t understand until I was older that, here is nowhere. I was groomed for this job since I could walk. Playing video games of flying airplanes and cars, something I’ll never see. I got to see the land we left through a video screen.

My parents have jobs as well. My mother runs the water reclamation system and my dad is a manager of landing operations. My dad always had time for my antics but my mom was never home. After so many years of seeing the same few walls I began asking questions. No one knew anything more than what was taught in school. No one knows how old this ship is. If the council knows anything, they don’t tell us. The one thing I do know is that this hunk of steel is old. Just about everything I touch falls apart. Some of the controls on my station are broken. The fuel gauge is stuck on E, but, I know the fuel is ninety percent gone by how slow the engines are to respond.

I hear whispers that the people below want to rebel and take over the council. They have been talking for decades. It would be a shame if the war that broke our earth broke this last ark of humanity.

How many people live here you ask? I don’t really know. The people below and the people here are separated by a long elevator that has fallen apart. Or, maybe it was destroyed by the council to keep the soon mutineers below. I can say I’ve seen six hundred or so where I have access to. We live in cramped living quarters, food is rationed and water is limited. I have hope of starting a family like my parents have done. We have to wait for authorization before we can do that though. As you should know, you have had troubles getting a permit for a kid. I know it isn’t easy to do. A job has to be assigned and a vacate date must be set by the council. My vacate date hasn’t been set, I have three more job evaluations before it is. I know the one before had to vacate at a young thirty. I witnessed her ceremony, she cried more than the rest I’ve seen. I think she did something bad and wasn’t allowed to stay here any longer.

It must be beautiful to go outside into the black. The school said it isn’t recommended to go because we can’t come back. But, I have often thought about getting away from this cramped shell.

What if we didn’t live on a decaying ship of life? What if we were still on our beautiful world of treasure and we could have as many kids as we wanted. I wish we didn’t have to have a job but could live just at a whim. Being able to make our own minds up when we should leave and where to go. This ship is a cage that has sucked the life out of everyone. We don’t live for ourselves, we live for everyone else. I don’t think that’s good enough. I wasn’t alive to burn our earth, why am I being punished for the mistakes made by the people who built this prison. Hopefully, someday soon we will find a new home. Somewhere that is green and blue. A place that is big enough for everyone. I would build a house on a hill overlooking the water. Maybe, have more than two kids. Maybe we will see the sunlight again. Wait, I hear gun fire; do you think it has begun? Humanities war is never ending it seems. This interview is over; we have to go.

#phrotography