New Worlds

Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. And although the atmosphere doesn't seem to carry a sound, we will always find a way. Our way was through electronic interference. Communication is vital, ever since the new world order came into place. Some of our people; from earth, never liked the new world order. And for good reasons too, those people, the elite they called themselves, took over everything from the land to the water, controlled the sky, and contained us all on earth where no one could live without their exploits.

I'm not sure how I felt about them. Even though I knew I could never actually control my future, I was content with a form of safety we all knew. Every human knew it, they had what they needed at any point, but out here in space, all we have is a desire. A desire that was as if a piece a paper could hold importance. And what was written on that little piece of paper was a foreign word to us all, freedom.

There's not much to do or to eat and we are always coasting from one place to another. My mother is constantly on the electro interference channels and talking with the other rebels that took it upon themselves to leave earth in search of new land. I miss home, my friends, but I don't have much say. Being a 15-year-old girl doesn't allow me to be able to make my own decisions. So, I stare out in space and dream, I dream of how things were and wish that nothing had changed. Maybe I wanted a normal life where I find a husband and have kids, live in a nice home and be me. I'll never know that now, even though everyone has hope for a brighter future, I know what will really happen. We are going to die out here, that's why they didn't try and stop us when we left. They stood there and smiled, waving goodbye and laughed as our jets went on. They knew what was going to happen, and they didn't care. They owned the world, and less people on that world was better for them anyways. They say that's why the wars still happened. It was population control. Most people thought it was for resources like oil and wood or land food. But they owned all of that anyways, even though there are different countries. All of their pockets were still filled in one way or another. Their businesses were aligned, they'd received money just for breathing. But why wouldn't you, why wouldn't you if you could. People were a commodity, a play toy for a child who never actually needed anything. It's nothing but a game, and even now we are still cogs in their wheel. Although in our case our people did it for hope. Where does hope lie really, if not in a concealed box? For my family and the rebels, it's out there in the strange unknown of the astral plains. A wasteland of nothing but black, we will die out here. And no one actually cares.

"Jahmine, come on it's time to eat!" My mother screamed from the cafeteria bay of our ship. "Coming," I said with a faint disregard. Lunch time again, same old time in the same old place. I walk into the bay and there sits the same people every day, in the same seats with the same look on their faces. Talking about the same damn thing they always do. Hope for a new planet to live on. My brother sits in the first seat, he's always there first because that kid is always hungry. If there was more food on this ship, that kid would be fat and covered with chocolate. I only know this because he asks every day if he can have some, like the answer would change because it magically appears out of thin air.

Then there's my little sister, she's small and doesn't say much, but always has an attitude if you ask her anything. Her hair is always a mess because she runs away when mom attempts to take care of her. She'll lock herself in the closet and not come out. Eventually, Mom stopped trying to deal with her grooming, so she doesn't even try anymore. My mom sits next to her. Shes Thin, but shapely short, bobbed hair and a stern look. Always on point all the time, dry...boring.

My father who's always too nice and caring. Always has an optimistic look about everything to the point where it's sickening. He sits there and talk with everyone encouraging our crew or asking about their day and how they feel. Sitting next to my father is Our cousin Shane who helped build the ship. He drives the ship and sits in the captain's chair mostly. always believing in what my father says to the point he doesn't even think for himself. Kind of a tool really. Then there's Sam, the old guy who believes in life out there. In this nothingness of space. Hes probably the reason we are all here. So that makes me dislike him. It's all his fault after all. Julie his wife, she doesn't do much but make sure everyone's ok. As if there's anything new in this place anyways.

Janine sits next to her, her daughter. Shes probably the only one i actually like on this ship. She actually gets it, for the most part anyway. She joined this cause with the rebels out of a small inkling of hope for a new planet to live on. I like her, but honestly, she's just as dumb as the rest of us for leaving earth in the first place.

Earth...

I wish I was there again.

I sat down at the table, a portion of vegetarian moosh that was green, some fake meat medley protein formed from assimilated plants that our grown on the ship. As if we already don't know, there is no cows or chickens on the ship. Then the worst of it all, a side of dessert. Yellow gunk from some random fruits grown on our trees. I'd know better than anyone what all of this stuff was, because it was my job to make it. I hate eating this stuff it just all smells the same, it's as boring as this crew is on this mundane ship. Travelling through space to nowhere.

Everyone is done eating and goes back to their positions, i hear the static noise from the electro interference. It warbles with wave lengths of information. My mother translates it using algorithms that her and my father came up with, as well as other people on the other rebel ships that escaped. They communicate to each other and hope for a new planet every day. Personally, i hate the noise. It makes my brain hurt, I guess that's why i make the food rations for everyone. Otherwise, I'd be doing something even dumber. We all have our assigned jobs to do. Every day as if it really matters. I honestly think it just keeps everyone busy, to pass the time before we finally die out here. Or in their words, they keep busy and work hard for the idea we will find a planet or anything to survive on. But what does that mean, most of these planets aren't anything volatile. Mostly just gas swirling around in chaos, no chance of surviving on that. Some days I wish we could try though. Our deaths would be quicker that way. Until then, I guess I'll mush this food down and stare out the window at nothing but stars and darkness. The only sight I'll ever see again.

Even a star doesn't mean much when you see them every day. They just don't seem to shine like they used to...