Prompt: It has been raining for weeks now, and the city’ power keeps flickering as the flooding messed with the power system. Most people are stuck in the higher levels of their buildings, and any attempt to contact the outside world is meet with silence.
The rain has knocked out the phone lines, the Internet, any potentiality that I may reach someone outside my home. The flooding reaches the door, at least three feet deep and no sign of ending. The electricity went sometime ago, and with nothing else to do, I began this for the sole purpose to keep my mind distracted… It hasn’t helped yet.
Before the power outage, every channel was the news covering the 30 rain (although it’s been a constant for at least 120 days). We were stupid presuming it would only last a month. Anyway, they spoke about the rain, the clouds, the rising waters, the oceans and seas and what we should do, and what the government was doing and how this affected wildlife and so on. Not one of them spoke about what I’ve heard, I’ve seen and surely I can’t be the only one.
Scratching on the house and doors; ebbing cerulean light deep below the flooding; a sound like a whale call but grating, gravel ground up in a machine. The flurry of marks on the bottom of the windows; those damn lights twirling like stars chasing one another throughout the night; the bellow rattling the dishes.
Have I gone insane? It started happenings soon after the 30 days, so someone else must’ve experienced these things too. Newscasters in waterproof huts out in the field rambling about what’s happening had to have seen at least a flash of teal, caught the hint of a guttural cry?
I believe whatever they are have always been at the bottom of the ocean. Not necessarily waiting, but sleeping until the tides shifted, and they could reach what they were incapable of before. Maybe they are more in sync with the weather than I know? Maybe they brought on the deluge? God, listen to me. I’m 31-years-old and sound like a poorly written horror novel with some science fiction sprinkled in, but it’s damn well true.
The strangest thing of all: when those calls rise from the depths, it’s not only the house that shakes but my womb. Yes, my womb. It resonates like a chant in an echo chamber. They’re conversing somehow, but I haven’t been with anyone in years. It’s impossible anything’s in there… But it’s not crazy to believe that the water these creatures live in has gotten into the drinking water. That’s all I have to drink… What does this mean? Wish the damn Internet worked or I at least had service, so I could call my friends. They could be dealing with this, too.
I don’t know where I was going all of this, don’t know what I’ll be doing with my life after this. Paced this house 1,000 times; stared out the windows 1,000 more, transfixed by the spiraling light… Maybe whatever it is wants in? Maybe it’s not dangerous, but pleading for survival? Maybe the yearning in my belly is a good thing.
I don’t know and possibly that’s intended. Why should we—humans—have the right to know what’s going on down there? We’ve ruined their ecosystem for so decades. In some weird sense, they have every right to take our land, make up for all the harm we’ve done.
I’m tired, of this, of what’s happening, of dreading the future. I may as well let it happen sooner, because what’s the point of survival when it’s futile? I’ll wait another 30 days and that’s all. There’s no amount of time I can stare at this document in the hopes that things will change. If they were meant to, they would have by now. So, If nothing happens, I will listen to my resonating body and follow those lights down, down, down…
Read the previous prompt, “Plastic World”
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