Window to a hopeless place

The outside world was unknown to her, but she could see a glimpse through the window in his room. Aria was exhilarated, she knew this might be her only chance to see the world outside the sealed building, but she wasn't prepared for the view her eyes caught. Tears flowed from her eyes as soon as he saw through the window. She didn't understand why, but she had an inexplicable feeling of sorrow, of loss, similar to the emptiness she felt when her mom died three years ago.

Aria was just a child, so she didn't understand what her eyes were seeing. The outside world was cold, empty, and dead. Everything was covered on a white blanket that looked soft like made of cotton. She remembers Albert talking about something called snow that was covering most parts of the north and south poles outside. "Snow," said Aria, savoring the word, so she guessed this was what Albert was referring to.

A slight orange glow was coming from behind the building, illuminating the white field. The image was peaceful, but it made her feel uneasy.

On the left side of her view, she noticed a massive old, rusty, and abandoned structure. There was no soul out there, at least not that she could see. The form was made of steel; it had several windows. Windows similar to the one she used to look outside, squared and big. She knew the structure was more prominent than she could see, but it was mostly buried under the snow. She noticed the antennas at the front of the immense form sinking in the middle. Everything clicked in place; it was a ship like the ones she had seen in the books in Alberts library. "But ships are meant to be on the water" thought Aria confused.

Aria's breath was making the window foggy. It was cold outside, below zero. "CRACK" She turned around, half expecting to see Alberts' angry face staring at her, but there was no one in the room, and the door remained closed. She needed to hurry, Albert would soon notice her absence, and if he caught her here, she would be in trouble. He asked her to never come to his room, to never open the window. She couldn't help herself; she was a curious and rebellious 12 years old girl.

Thinking about Albert, she did not record seeing him today. It was still early in the morning, but he didn't take her to her room yesterday and wasn't at the dinner table either. That was odd behavior, but Aria knew best not to push her luck, especially now that she was violating one of the main rules of the underground.

As the Orange and golden glow kept growing brighter and illuminating more areas of the snow, Aria spotted more ships. She noticed the incongruences of the terrain that first looked smooth like a pillow. Now she saw it was higher in some areas, low in others, with many pointed places. "Was it a boat cemetery?" Thought Aria, but it was actually worse than that. It took her a couple of seconds to put it together, and then she understood why she was crying and feeling so lost; she was looking at the Ocean. The Ocean was frozen, and the people on those ships possibly died; they had drawn or frozen. Her dream has always been to see the sea; her mother told her amazing stories about how they arrived at the undergrounds on a boat, crossing the Ocean, looking for warmer places, better places to live. Her mother had promised to take her to the sea when the time was perfect, so she could swim with fish, play with starfish and feel the warmth of the sun; when her mom died, Albert promised that he would take her to the sea, so she can throw her mother's aches to it. The Ocean was Arias's mom's favorite place; she spent most of her life on it. Aria was almost born on it, and now it was gone; it was frozen.

The world was frozen. No trees, animals, buildings, or gorgeous sceneries. The images on the pictures in Albert's books no longer existed, at least not that Aria could see through the window. The world as she had imagined through Alberts's books and his stories did not longer exist.

Aria couldn't believe it. It was getting harder and harder to catch her breath; the anxiety was creeping up. She pushed closer and closer to the window, looking for a glimpse of green, anything remotely similar to the images she had seen in books, anything to take away the pain in her chest. "CRACK" Aria didn't listen. She kept pressing on the window squinting her eyes, trying to look as far as she could. "CRACK," a line was growing across the window, ramifying like the branches on a dried tree. Aria was so immersed in her thoughts, hoping to see just a little bit of green or life, that she didn't notice the moment the window shattered, launching little pieces of glass toward her face. Didn't feel the pain or the cold. She didn't feel the pulling of gravity while falling. She was just thinking about the lies Albert fed her every day, about how disappointed the other kids would be knowing there were no parks, rivers, seas, or animals, nothing beyond the gray walls on the undergrounds.

Her screams came, at last, guttural, loud, not because of the fall but because of her loss, her sorrow. Aria was falling and screaming, but no one heard her. Her scream was muted by the desolation around her and beyond. Muffled by the thick walls of the underground and the mountains of snow that once were oceans. Aria just fell until there was no fear, no pain, no more hope, or life.