(HERE IS THE FIRST SHORT STORY I WROTE FOR A CONTEST IN 2006)

Famylia D’Soerder

by Robert Lindberg

She was watching the television in a room of her suburbian house with large rectangular windows on three sides that were outlined with thick cherry trim. The sills were large and stuck far enough out of the wall to play cards on and under the windows on the ends there were red cushions so thick and soft that one could sit and look out at the hilly yards of the neighbors, full of healthy dark green grass and large trees with leaves so ripe that their veins pulsated with fluidy nutrients and seemed to smile in the sun and relax in the shade as the wind blew through them, making the branches sway back and forth slowly then more violent. Through the trees only portions of the dark gray and brown houses nearby could be seen, that were not so much large; they were modern and artsy which showed that this area had old money. Well kept concrete swept the streets and driveways, and walkways of light brick and cobblestone lead to the front entrances and around to the backs of the houses as well. 

The thin wall spaces between the large windows were painted dark violet which was a look that made the air conditioned temperature feel match the appearance and seem appropriate; this room seemed dark on the inside even with the summer sun pouring in from above all the windows though it couldn’t be directly seen. The furniture matched the trim around the windows by being a multi-pieced set consisting of a wide, low-riding chair, loveseat and couch, each with thick red cushions that one could sink so far into and become so comfortable and relaxed that they would find no use for anti-depressants and sedatives. However, the thick rug on top of the hardwood floor seemed to be just fine for the girl as she layed on her stomach with her chin in her hands and her feet crossed in the air, swaying back and forth to the rhythm of the techno-punk music in the headphones. She liked to watch documentaries on modern architecture of the time and listen to her music; that would set the zone she so much loved to be in all the time. 

She herself possessed a look that would fit her nicely in her scene and lifestyle. She wore a black top covered by an open grayish-green army fatigue jacket that had a few small buttons pinned to it along with a couple patches bearing the logos of the musicians she so adored. The sleeves were rolled up because of the warm weather but it was so cool in this room that she kept it on. Her plaid skirt was long enough to go down to almost her knees even though she had the body to be able to sport something shorter, and her hair was mainly black but also had various other colors hanging intertwined with all the darkness. She had pale skin, not pale enough to look like she never went outside but like she almost never did and she had two rings pierced through her left nostril that completed the whole techno-punk look, along with her big, black leather army boots that were made for a man and matching plaid stockings sticking out only an inch above the boot tops going up her leg. 

After watching hours upon hours of fancy green atriums and forever lasting hallway systems with glass roofs and big yards containing sculptures and architecture that resembled even more sculptures she took off the headphones, stood up and stretched out her arms above her head. It was a beautiful day yet she stayed inside and watched the television, thinking nothing wierd about it. The refrigerator was in the corner. A small refrigerator it was, one of the mini kind, and she walked over to it, opened it and found it just how she had left it, full of organic nutrient drink made of blended fruit and other healthy vitamin substances such as lecethin and guarana to give her energy. She pulled one of the bottles out and opened it, looking out the windows at all there was to see and walking around the room to catch a full perimeter experience and soak everything in. She stopped on her second pass around to watch the middle aged man that lived in the next house do his yard work. He was bagging a bag of grass from the lawn mower, raking it in with his hands and trying to pick up every last piece. When he had the bag full and was starting back to his garage he saw her watching him and stopped to smile and wave. She was startled by the bust and hesitated waving back but still did, but it was an uncomfortable wave, shaky with guilt and embarrassment. It didn’t seem to matter. He was too into his chores to pick up on any of her feelings by reading any of her body language. She looked down at the yard in front of her window and bit her nail in regret, folding her arms in the process as the neighbor man went into his garage to bring the lawn mower back. She turned her back to the window to not pay any more attention to him but glanced out the window one more time to check out the beautiful day. Then she put her hands on the windowsill and looked to the sky. Was something up there? Watching her, perhaps? The sky just didn’t look the same for some reason. It looked a little too dark of a baby blue and it also seemed flat like it didn’t curve with the world. Judging by how the sky looked she would think that the world was flat as well. When she turned her head the sky seemed to curve downward and cave in like a giant bubble had formed, sort of like being under a trampoline when someone heavy was sitting on it. 

When she looked down, her neighbor was inspecting the hedges by the tree in his front yard. He bent over, but then in a flash he was standing again with his hands on his hips like he was before he bent over. He bent over a second time and it happened again; in a flash he was back in standing position. 

“How is this accomplished?” the girl asked herself under her breath. It happened over and over a few more times and frightened her. She banged on the window with the bottom of her fist and the view turned to black and white dots of television snow static. Then all of the plasma HD televisions that she thought were windows turned to snow as well and they were the only source of light so the room was filled with an eerie flourescent strobe-type illumination. No more was there any sun coming in that made her feel like she was getting energy and life from. No more did she feel like she was in a room surrounded by the outdoors of a beautiful summer day. She might as well be in an office with no windows in the center of a corporate building, she thought. When the plasma TVs turned off it was pitch black in the room, which had no lights installed due to it being sort of a porch room that relied on the sun to provide light. Fear of the unknown swept through her mind as she knew nothing of where she really was or what her reality had in store for her. Coming from all around her in the distance as if the walls of the room were not there anymore were the nightly news highlights from television from the future. They sounded like they were being read off by earth dominating machines...

...Hereth.... ten... beseech you... let all the warlikes become God in fortitude...

...count on your shwargerwar... the torch to burn bruin.... signify...

A portion of the ceiling came crashing down in the center of the room and a large robot arm came reaching down from the hole with a round pearl on the end the size of a basketball that produced a dim blue light on the otherwise pitch black room. 

“Hello Famylia...” it said. The machine broadcasters continued to speak in the background. 

...that...that...that... it’s a conspiracy... the legacy moves on...

...of satellites... to us boit to dusk.... be forewarned... next time... of the galaxy...

...ten times to your death.... Grealbenvold alt Harrier... Alchomenstein...

The ramblings in the background got more and more war-type industrial and in the pearl eye the girl, Famylia, could see the history of the world around her flashing through her mind. So much war. So much pollution. As time flashed before her eyes and into her mind she noted only how the tanks, vehicles of war, became more and more technologically advnanced. The eye told her exactly what was going on by showing her clips of the news that were aired on television in the centuries leading up to this point.  

“Did you ever go outside?” the robot asked. She thought about it long and hard, then replied “No.” She was passed tears. She realized that she has no memory of ever going outside. 

“Do you remember the Sears and Robuck?” the robot eye then asked.

“No. I say.” Famylia answered. The war machines continued to speak and the news flashes continued to show all the governments killing their people to make computers out of them and then having to fight the machines that they sacrificed their people to.

...Carry on then the stopping folds... the marksmen by worth the swarm be warthy...

...cast off... cast off...

...by which we sail the final battle...

It sounded like a video game talking; low bit depth and bad quality audio that added to the uncomfortable feeling like being in a cheap haunted house ride at an insufficiently funded carnival.

“Do you forgive mankind?...” the robot asked. 

The walls became transparent like ice and she could only see the outline of the room and furniture but she could see the REAL world and it was a nuclear waste site convered in magma and there was no life in existance because no life could possibly survive in such conditions. Everywhere was dark; looking up she could only see the bottom of many layers of black smoke and the only source of light was the hellacious and ever constant lightning that never seemed to settle, along with the dim orange glow the volcanic fluid produced that could be seen through the cracks in the hardened black magma that covered the ground. She was in a location that was originally covered by an ocean that is now non-existant due to nuclear blasts, and in the lightning she could see the mountains of Hawaii in front of her that were now very much active volcanoes and had the room not been there she would be sitting on a flowing pile of hot lava. The mountains were so large due to the ocean being gone and the sight took her breath away, instilling a fear that penetrated her heart. It felt like the room’s cool temperature feel was weakening to the heat and losing it’s ability to remain cool as it quickly became warmer. At least she knew where she was and what life was like, although she would give her life not to know. She layed down on the floor in the dirt and garbage and scrap metal but she couldn’t close her eyes. This was too much of a shock for her to find out about. Her vision faded and she lost almost all energy to go on as she felt small and helpless in a dead, lifeless world. 

“Can you erase my mind completely?” she asked the robot eye. In a flash, she was back in suburbia land, looking out her window at her older man neighber in his yard. He waved, bent over, then stood up and went into his house. She smiled and turned on the TV.