Desolation
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Jessica Bittar, Grade 9, Gilroy College
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Short Story
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2010
Finalist in the 'Word Express 2010' competition
Ever felt alone in the universe?
Zaeliya’s mind was engulfed by the question. For her, it was much more than a simple thought – it was a silent prayer, a desperate plea for assistance. It was a question which required an answer –one she was unable to provide.
Moaning gunships circled above her head, but her eyes were focused on the carnage which was unfolding in front of her. She gazed at the smouldering remnants of a metropolis which once stood tall and its wounded denizens, who were huddled amongst the asphalt. Their fearful expressions were carved deep into her soul. Summoning her courage, she continued surveying the ruins unflinchingly until another deafening roar shattered her reflections and transported her back to her duties.
War was an anaesthetic, a method of dulling the pain inflicted by past offences. Explosives and weaponry were a means to eliminate bitter resentment. Enlisting as a soldier at the age of eighteen had taught Zaeliya’s heart all that it needed to know about conflict. She contemplated on what influenced her decision to join the Zenturian military. Perhaps it was her chance to experience the rush of adrenaline, or an opportunity to finally attain a sense of belonging and purpose in her life after years of stigmatisation.
As she looked on towards the injured, Zaeliya lowered her particle beam using her mechanically operated, artificial right arm – an eternal reminder of her creation within a tank of fluid. Her prosthesis was a black stain of ignominy and a caution against interfering with genetic engineering. Serving with the military granted her an escape from the controversy surrounding her flawed conception.
Flames began to caress the sides of her robust armour and more warriors raced across the battlefield. Although it was the first time Zaeliya had walked on Earthen soil, she could already witness the corruption seeping through its heavily guarded streets. Censorship and propaganda leered at her as she searched through the wreckage of a society which had placed its people under its control.
She shrugged. One unaided woman was powerless to stop a vicious cycle of hatred. From the day of her birth, Zaeliya had longed for the pieces of the mystery to connect – something to ease her lonely nights and fill the empty void within her core. She needed someone to understand her. It was an emotion that no amount of service could erase.
“Officers, we’ve located our target,” a familiar voice boomed. “Assemble at once.
“Aye, commander,” she smiled, her soft tone barely audible over radio communication. Dashing ahead to join her companions, she froze. Before her was a young Zenturian, safe with her family. Zaeliya removed her helmet wordlessly. The same dewy, lilac skin, large black pupils and pointed ears stared back at her.
“Are you Zaerinn?” an officer asked the girl. Turning around, she nodded and locked eyes with her identical sister. In that instant, the paroxysms of desolation melted away.
Zaeliya asked herself if she had ever felt more complete in the universe.