The End

It happened while we were walking home from dancing practice. It was autumn, so it was dark already. The edge of the sky was still reddish-purple as we left our old school’s gym, but that had faded to black by the time we were at the edge of town. It was very warm for an autumn day and the air was moist and loaded with static electricity, as if a thunderstorm was about to happen.

Lisa was still wearing her flats. The rest of her was wrapped in a pink bubbly jacket. We were talking about school. ‘I get that we didn’t make it through all the exercises, but we have a life outside of school as well, you know?’ I nodded along to her ramblings. ‘This happened last month too, remember, when Joni couldn’t hand in her homework because she had to visit her grandma.’

‘Joni doesn’t have a grandma,’ I said.

‘I know, but it’s like they treat us like children. We don’t get any free time or any say in how we go about our lives.’

‘We are children,’ I said.

‘I’m not,’ Lisa said. ‘I want to be free. I want to choose what I want to do with my life, I, not them. Not our teachers, not our parents. I.’ She paused. The streetlight behind her cast her face in shadows, only a thin corona still visible. I looked at her. I don’t know what she looked at. It was getting late. Suddenly, she lurched forward and run up to me, grabbed my arm with her free hand and we went on as if nothing had happened.

‘You weren’t there last Thursday either,’ Lisa said quietly. Her face was turned away from me.

‘I had to do chemistry homework,’ I replied.

There was a moment of silence, just the two of us walking. Our steps mixed with the sounds of crickets in the thick air. ‘I just wish you’d make time for me too.’ I did not say anything. Her face was still turned away.

We left the last streetlight behind and walked along the road that led through the fields. It was the quickest way home for us. Everything was dark around us, but the waning moon was still bright enough that we could see the pavement in front of us. We took the tiny bridge over the invisible gurgling creek and went past trees that stretched their myriad spindly fingers towards the sky. ‘What’s that?’ Lisa said.

‘What’s what?’ I asked.

‘Over there,’ she let go of my arm and pointed, but I couldn’t see where to.

‘Over where?’ I asked.

‘Over there,’ she said. She began tugging me forward, still along our path. She sped up, began to run. I stumbled and skipped, my feet hardly able to keep up. She veered off the path and into the grass, knee-high and full of crickets. Just a few meters and we came to something, something in the grass. It was dark, a blackness, blacker than the night. We stood only a few feet from it. It was roughly round and I could see the edge where it set itself apart from the sky, one darker than the other, yet the edge was razor sharp.

‘What is this?’ Lisa asked.

‘I don’t know,’ I said. I could feel her turn towards me. She let go of my hand and approached it. I saw the dark grey shape of her hand stretch out and touch it.

‘It feels warm,’ I heard her say. ‘And smooth. But not sticky.’ The object opened up. A dark yellow-orange glow emanated from the circular opening. I could hear a hum, quiet and just barely audible above the crickets. There was a pillar of light inside the sphere, orange, glowing, burning. ‘I’ll go in,’ Lisa said.

‘Don’t!’ My voice sounded weak. She stepped inside the sphere. I could see her dark shape, bathed in dim orange move toward the pillar, arms outstretched. Everything felt so slow, her steps, my breathing, even the crickets’ sounds.

Next thing I remembered, the sphere had closed up. The hole in its side closed in the same smooth motion with which it had opened up. I was sitting in the grass just next to it. Still, I did not dare to move closer or even touch it. I put my head on my knees and prayed. I stayed like this for a long time. My back was beginning to grow cold, but I could still feel the warmth in my face and my legs, as if the sphere were radiating heat. I tried to count the time, but I lost track after a few seconds again and again.

I looked up at the dark sphere. The sky had darkened further – clouds were obscuring the moon – and I could barely discern the roundness of the shape anymore. The hum was picking up, becoming louder, wavering, pulsing, high and low and high and low. I thought I could see it vibrate. Then, it began to move. Slowly at first it began to rise right before my eyes. One centimeter and then another, all the while humming, buzzing, groaning. I could just so see its blackness move up, up and up it moved, rising into the sky until I could not see it anymore.

I kept sitting in the grass among the crickets for a while longer. It was getting colder and my thin jacket didn’t help. At some point, I stood up and went home.

The porch light turned on as I approached the front door. The small light in the hall was still on and I could see my dad sleeping in his chair in the dim living room through the open door. I crept up the stairs, trying not to stir him or mom. The door to my room was closed. I went into the bathroom.

The ceiling light was blindingly white, like a searchlight. The small thermometer clock sitting on the bathtub's edge said 3:42 AM. I looked in the mirror. My pants were dusty and I had grass seeds in my disheveled hair. I let go of my bag, which hit the ground with a soft thud. I kept looking at my face. Two big, hazel eyes, dark crescent moons under them. I stared at them, moved closer to the mirror, looked from eye to eye. It felt as if they were moving on their own, vibrating, moving away from my gaze, hazel circles, brown, orange, glowing like the inside of that sphere. I threw up into the sink.

A soft knock on my door. ‘Come in,’ I mouthed. I could not speak. It opened nonetheless. It was mom.

‘Everything alright?’ she asked.

‘Yeah,’ I said. I was still clinging to the edges of the sink.

She looked at me, arms crossed. Her expression was warm and worried. Tears welled up in my eyes. I could barely see her approach me through the blur, hug me, envelop me in her arms and I hugged her back. She was warm, so warm and there was no cold, no crickets, no streetlights and nothing else. I clawed at her, dug my hands into her pajamas and she only held me tighter. ‘It’s alright,’ she said. ‘It’s all going to be alright’ And she held me in her arms and I don’t remember anything more from that night.