The Beginnings of a Hoax

The crack in the pond, frozen over from the lowering temperatures the night before, unsettles everyone. It is almost the full diameter of the pond long, shy only a few inches from the edges, ebbing out from a hole in the center like a spiderweb, catching the fleeting attention of passer-bys.

While flying above the Earth is when the malfunctions began. Warning alarms began to fill my ears; flashes of light shocked my system, accustomed to the darkness of traveling. My hands fumbled with the controls, grappling for a way to prevent the impending collision. I felt myself begin to plummet down, my attempts futile. Still, I tried.

Right in the middle of the pond, where the radiating crack appeared to stem from, the ice had broken through completely, showing a peek of the water that was typically exposed. Like something small had crashed into it, or possibly it made its way all the way through. 

In a desperate attempt, I tried to reach out for someone, anyone, to help me, but the communication line appeared to be jammed. It wouldn't have mattered anyway; I was too far away from home. A wave of gratitude flooded through me at the last minute - no one would have to hear the loud crack that filled the air as I made contact with a thin layer of ice.

From the trench in the pond, tendrils of darkness creep away under a thin, contrasting layer of bright ice, spreading out like a root system branching out under soil. While cracks in ice is not an uncommon phenomenon seen in this small town, the sludgey thickness of these unusual patterns causes the forming crowd to whisper to one another in confusion and intrigue.

I jerked forward, reaching for the door. Through the windows, I could see my surroundings rising above me as I felt my ship sinking slowly down. Somehow, I escaped through a thin opening between the door and the ice.

"What could have caused that?" A sentiment echoed throughout those standing about - school children and working men and women, distracted from their duties. As the sun continues to rise in the sky, beating down on the broken ice, superficial scratches on the surface can be seen.

I scrambled forward, digging into the coldness, searching for solid ground. My feet eventually found terrain, soft and powdery above cold blades of grass. I stumbled until my legs gave out on me, and even then I dragged myself forward until I reached a slatted wooden structure to act as some form of shelter on this foreign land. I looked back to where my ship had landed to find nothing there. Then the burning sensation began.  

Worry fills the air as the suggestion that someone had fallen through is proposed. "Call the sheriff!" The idea is shot down by a couple of people, who mention that there's no proof. The hole is small. It could have been just an animal, and there's no need to call the authorities over that. Laughter is heard as a call is still made.

The rush of the crash quickly drained away as the pain searing my insides came to the forefront of my awareness. With every breath, hot agony flooded my body. The air is painful, the atmosphere incompatible. It incapacitates me, rendering me nearly immobile. I was strong before, but now I'm weak. 

"Whatever it was, it must have hit really hard," someone comments.The crowd murmurs in agreement, as more and more people begin to trickle into the crowd. Not much happens in this small town.

As I watched the sun creep up the side of the dark sky until its brilliance became overpowering, unable to do anything else, I silently begged for the release of death. But my new surroundings are cruel, taking their time. So when the Humans showed up, fear and hope fluttered in my tormented body.

A man with a badge pulls up, and he quickly assesses the damage. His brow furrows with annoyance, and he begins interrogating those closest to him. He doesn't understand why this is significant enough to cause any amount of concern. Cracks on frozen ponds happen all the time.

I lay frozen still, my ability to feel anything at all lessening with each ragged breath I take as I take in the increasing number of Humans. They're all standing, just gawking at the crash site, ignorant to the tragedy that occurred there. If only they knew to find my ship, if only they were able to fix it and help me leave this deathtrap. If only they knew I am here.

"The hole is so small, only a small child could have slipped through. There have been no accidents reported, no missing children. Until that changes, there's no need to waste any resources on searching the pond."

No....I want the suffering to end, but I don't want to die like this.

The crowd eventually disperses. All except two teenage boys, who linger. They walk around the edge of the pond, taking in different angles of the cracked ice. They laugh and they talk and they pull out their phones from their pockets to take pictures. They move toward a bench nearby, brushing off a light layer of snow. 

I muster the only strength left inside of me to reach out toward the Humans above me, desperate, letting out a pitiful whine that seems to fall on deaf ears. Distaste falls on my palate as I am forced to plead to those I have been taught not to trust. But they're my only key to survival. Their saving grace.

One boy suggests something out of this world crashed through the pond, his voice low and conspiratorial. The other laughs mockingly. "Everyone knows aliens aren't real, idiot." They shove one another, with no real intention of harming the other, as they get up and finally walk away. 

Left alone, wheezing in the poisonous air, I know then that there is no hope for me, or for Humanity. 

I will die here. And if I'm found, no one will believe I exist.

A hoax. That's what I will be reduced to when my body is finally discovered. My memory, disgraced.

I regret ever leaving home.

Earth is a terrible place to die.