Adapt or Die

It’s the year 2070, it’s been 20 years since the melting of the Arctic and Antarctic. Earthquakes, tsunamis, sand storms, and hurricanes wiped out billions of people, as did many other natural disasters. It was too late for the government to help us, but people continued to petition in hopes that the government would help them, but when they realized there was nothing they could do, they went dark. They abandoned us. They left us to fend for ourselves. We haven’t heard from them since.

The Earth is dying. No one cares to admit it though. Fear controls them. Our teachers, parents, and our good-for-nothing government are too scared to admit that the earth is dying.

They tell us that everything will be fine and that we were going to live long and successful lives, and that we wouldn’t die from natural disasters just like everyone else, but it’s not true. They’re trying to give us false hope, even though we are bound to the same death as everyone else. We’re like the American children during the bomb drills in the 1950s. They were going to die if the bomb was dropped anyway, so there was no reason to even duck and cover. Their teachers gave them false hope just as our parents do today.

My younger sister, Iris, has sand piercing, which is when the tiny sand particles from the sandstorms go into your lungs and form rigid clumps that make it almost impossible to breathe. It feels like a sandstorm is swirling inside of you and gives you this harsh barking cough. There is no cure for it, and the doctor said she only has a few weeks left to live. I continue to check up on her after I finished school. She can’t speak; the sand clumps have become too painful. I stroked her head as I sat on her bed. Her bloodshot eyes reflected pain and misery I bent down and whispered in her ear, “ I love you Iris, and every day I wish that I would be the one suffering and not you. I’d give up anything to save you.” She gave me a weary smile. I kissed her forehead and walked downstairs for dinner.

“How was school, Harper?” My mom asked.

“Good, I just finished my Precalculus unit test, '' I replied, even though I had skipped school today to spend time with Iris.

“Your father and I got a phone call that you weren’t in class today.”

I wanted to tell them, what's the use of learning if I probably won’t make it till age 30, and that I’d just end up like my parents, working long hours with low-paying jobs. Instead, I told them the truth: that I wanted to spend the few remaining weeks with Iris. They nodded their heads solemnly in agreement and said that they could take some time off each remaining week to spend with Iris, but I would still have to go to school for 4 out of the 5 days.

Waiting at the door next to the school were Maceson, Keat, Kheora, and Rom. They asked me how Iris was doing and how my parents reacted to me skipping school to spend time with her. I just told them that my parents were fine about it, that they didn’t overreact about skipping school, and that Iris only had a couple of weeks left to live. They surrounded me, and Keaton put his hand on my shoulder and said,

“It’s going to be hard letting her go, but we’ve all lost someone to sand piercing, so if you need a shoulder to cry on or someone to talk to, we’re here for you Harper.”

I looked at them thoughtfully and then we all headed to our classes.

Kheora and I headed to our first class of the day which was language arts. In class, we were just wrapping up with the Macbeth play. We continued to read our plays during class, and suddenly I realized that Anthony, one of the boys in my language arts class, hadn't come to school for about a week now.

“He’s never been away from school this long,” I thought, as I watched Mrs. Pensworth, our teacher, kept glancing worriedly at the empty spot that Anthony would always sit in. After class, I walked up to Mrs. Pensworth and asked if she had an idea about where Anthony could be. She sadly shook her head and said, ‘ I'm starting to get a little worried about his leave of absence. My first idea was that the sand sickness got to him or that his house was destroyed by that hurricane that passed through his town about a week ago.

She continued, “I called his parents earlier today but no one picked up.

I’m starting to get worried about him, Harper.”

“I’ll ride by his house after school to check and see if he and his family are ok,” I said.

At lunch Keaton, Mace, Kheora, Rom and I talked about students with leaves of absence. We also discussed potential ideas of what could have happened to them.

Rom said that Teagan, a girl in his chemistry class, was leaving to move to a small town in Ohio where there was a safe haven, where they took care of sick people and folks without homes.

“I guess that's one mystery solved,” I said.

Kheora and I told them that we were going to check up on Anthony to see if everything’s alright. I asked them if they would like to tag along. They said yes. After school, we hit the road and rode to Anthony’s house, which was 7 blocks up the dirt road from the school area. When we arrived at his house, we gazed dumbstruck at the house. It was boarded off and caution tape was taped all around it. We got off our bikes, walked up to the house, and cautiously peeled back the caution tape and boards. We gazed in and called out for Anthony, but no one was home. We walked out of the house and questioned the people in his neighborhood if they saw his family in the past week. Most of them replied no. Some of them said that they saw a couple of black vans pull up to his house a week ago. They stated that they saw some armed men came out and grabbed Anthony, bagged him and stuffed him into the van, and drove away. Then they said that the people in the other vans came out and bagged his parents, stuffed them into another van, and drove in the opposite direction. The five of us gasped and wondered if the same thing happened to all the other missing students. Each one of us rode home quickly to notify our parents. We told them what happened, they were shocked.

“I knew the government was acting sketchy!”, my father exclaimed.

Our parents contacted the school and let them know about the missing teens and their families. A couple of hours later the school sent out a search party, each one of our families tagged along. We searched around each neighborhood, and a couple of neighbors claimed to see them get abducted in a black van. We continued to search for hours, but all we found was a heart-shaped locket and a smashed phone which belonged to Tristina Rebonnia, a girl in my chemistry class. We searched her phone to see if it could give us any information about what happened, all we found was a video of her before the abduction. Our principal clicked onto the video.

It began, “I don’t know what’s happening”, Tristina gasped.

“There’s a black van outside the door, and men are surrounding the house from all ends.”

“I’m trapped in, I’m terrified, and all I have is this butcher knife I found in the kitchen.” She sobbed.

“If anyone gets this message please help me!” Tristina exclaimed.

Armed men in black jackets burst through the door and stormed into the kitchen they tried to hold her down, but Tristina lashed out viciously and swung the butcher knife into the man clutching her. The man screamed in pain as the knife stuck fast and sunk deep into his skin. Blood oozed out onto his jacket. The man doubled over in pain and clutched his bleeding arm as he stumbled back to the van. She continued to slash at the men. A large man grasped her hand and knocked the knife out of her hand with his opposite hand. She shrieked and continued to thrash at the man as he bagged her. She dropped the phone which was still recording. They stuffed her in the van and one man came back and stepped on the phone, as he did we caught a glance at the letters on the right side of his chest pocket. It read B.A.H.P. No one had any possible clue about what that meant, so we tried to search the internet for that acronym, but nothing came up. Night had fallen, so most of us decided to call it a day. Meanwhile, some remained to keep searching for a couple more hours.

The next week was difficult. Iris’s health was depleting rapidly, and she could hardly keep her eyes open. The doctor said that she only had a few more days left to live. The three of us were having a hard time letting that sink in. But that wasn’t the only thing I was worried about. There was word about more sightings of these men in other neighborhoods abducting some more teens. I was worried that they would come for me and my family and friends next. We are really in over our heads, I thought.

I had stayed home the last two school days to take care of Iris. I thought it would be better for me to go to school to clear my head with all of these problems and focus on something more worthwhile of my attention. I made it halfway through the day before I realized something was up with Ms. McLayeson. She seemed paranoid about something because she kept glancing at the door. Suddenly, a group of armed men entered the classroom.

One of the men said, “ Go down to room 215 until further instruction.”

Ms. McLayeson seemed scared now and she said that we should listen to what they say. Terrified and clueless we headed to room 215 which was the science lab right down the hallway. We lined up in a single file line right outside the classroom and waited. The men took each teen in one by one. I stood there worryingly as I caught a glance at the acronym on their right chest pocket. It was the same one from the video. Next, it was my turn, I headed into the class and a man stood over me with an epi-pen-like needle. He clutched my arm, I was hesitant to lash out and fight my way out of the room. He poked me with the needle and he told me to wait for 5 minutes. After the 5 minutes was over I saw a red welt form on my arm.

“What’s that!” I exclaimed as I started to hyperventilate.

“She has potential adaptations,” He said.

The next thing I knew, I was in a moving van with my arms tied, duct tape over my mouth, and a bag over my head. I waited an hour till the van came to an abrupt stop. The men walked me into a building and took the bag off my head. I gazed at the holographic man who appeared in front of me and said,

“ Welcome to the Xephrion, I’m Dr. Sephrone, we’ve been working to form the Biologically, Adaptable, Humans, Project or the B.A.H.P for short.”