The Lesson in a Diary

Day Seven,

The new planet is dark. Right now, anyway. The scientists spoke of a consistent schedule between the planet’s moon and the solar system’s sun. Seasons were predictable, much like our own. The main difference between this planet and ours is that the new one has zero recorded human life. This will be easier than we thought.

The first few days were the most anxiety inducing. Our team was introduced to hundreds of species of wildlife and greenery that our home planet has failed to produce, in the recent years. Three years, to be exact, since experts noticed that the soil could no longer enrich new or young trees and plants. Soon after, animals stopped reproducing. No amount of research or planning could prepare mankind for the moment when every effort we had made in the past, to recreate natural processes, had simply just stopped working. Old theories were tossed; new thoughts were written only to be erased.

The light will return in three hours. I have yet to adjust to my assigned sleep schedule which means I spend each day exhausted yet still amazed at the beauty of this planet. This must be what our home planet’s founders felt like, all those years ago.

Before curfew, Angela and I spoke of a mutual feeling of pride. There was nothing more rewarding than knowing we were going to be in history books and stories written by those of the future.

Anyway, I am going to try to get at least three hours of sleep.

Day Nine,

The sun is right above us now. Today, we were allowed an hour of time outside without our suits. The air is pure here and our lungs will be overwhelmed if we don’t give them time to adjust. Earlier in the day, Angela and I spent our hour together, sitting against a tall tree, holding hands. The leaves above us resembled the color of her eyes and when I saw a fallen leaf on the ground, I quickly took it and put it in my pocket. I’ll try to turn it into paint after I finish writing this.

During our hour, we saw several birds flying among the trees, and a few stopped on the branches at their nests. Angela was in awe at the number of nests in the trees. It’s been so long since we last saw anything like it. In the last few minutes, an animal like what we call a “fawn” stumbled into our line of sight. Its mother caught our eyes and quickly ushered the babe away into a safer distance.

The animals on this planet are cautious of us. They see us as strangers or even aliens, I suppose. We aren’t very concerned about that though. They will learn.

Day Thirteen,

Yesterday, a report came in from the east that claimed they discovered old man-made structures. This new information led to Brian, our team overseer, to assign several groups to multi-day exploration missions. Four groups of four were sent out into different directions. Angela and I were assigned in the same group along with the twins, Marcus and Leon.

We started our journey north, twelve hours ago. Nine hours in, we saw the first structure. A short building made of a smooth stone. The roof was caved in which kept us from being able to explore inside. After a small break, we reported it on our map and continued.

Two hours later, we found a structure that consisted of four six-foot tall stone walls, the roof was missing, and a human sized arch was in the back wall which acted as the only way inside other than a single circle shaped hole halfway up another wall. We set up camp here for the night. Our only tent was placed inside the four walls.

Marcus and Leon took first watch, so Angela and I are now trying to get a few hours of sleep until second watch in three hours. She’s sat across me now, writing in her own journal. We took our suits off for the moment and now I keep noticing that her blond strands of hair keep falling into her eyes and I look up each time I sense her moving to push the strands behind her ears.

Day Fourteen,

I cut my arm today.

Halfway into the day, we were taking a short break when Angela pointed out a bird that had shed a feather onto a branch several feet up on a tree. She laughed when she saw me get up and go over to the tree. Regardless, I got the feather for her.

A sharp edge on a branch had cut straight through the sleeve in my shirt and made a small laceration on my forearm. I held a gloved hand over the wound until Marcus had his supplies out. Luckily, we had a suit repair kit with us, so my suit wasn’t compromised long enough to do any damage.

Day Sixteen,

Something isn’t right. Each structure we find is plain and underdeveloped. Whoever was here before us isn’t here now, just like what we originally were led to believe. There is just something off about the lack of technology. Several structures we found were built into caves or made of that crumbling stone. We plan to turn around and head back to base first thing in the morning. I’ve had a headache all day and am not looking forward to the trek back.

Day Seventeen,

We are heading back now. Several birds have started to overwhelm us. I didn’t notice until Angela screamed when one tried to peck at her hair.

Day Eighteen,

Angela said I look pale. I am taking another break now, sitting on a log. I think the birds are following us home. They rest with us at each stop. Leon says I am probably seeing things, but I’ve held eye contact with the same bird for five minutes.

Day Twenty,

We finally made it back an hour ago. Angela wants me to see the doctor, but I will just go in the morning.

Day Twenty-three,

I’ve been sitting by the window all day. The bandage on my arm has bits of red seeping through it now. I’d better get the doctor.

Day Thirty,

Angela took me on a walk today. The doctor said I could handle thirty minutes, so we kept it short. My arm is on fire. The cut never healed, and I worry that it won’t.

Day Ten,

I found this notebook two days ago. I felt guilty for wanting to read it but couldn’t ignore the nagging feeling of wanting to know about your last few days.

I’m sure you already know this, but I wanted to let you know that we left that planet. We took you, and all the others that we lost, with us back home. You were the first, but soon after, over half of the population we had on the ground fell to the same disease. The scientists believe that the trees are poisonous and once we started trying to hunt the nearby animals, we realized that to be another fatal misstep. It seems like this planet killed the other human like beings that were living there before us. We are going to learn from their mistakes and leave while we can. I’m sorry.

Day Fifteen,

I still have the feather.

Day Twenty,

I have been thinking about that tree. I imagine what you would do if it were me that had died instead. Would you go back and burn it down? Burn them all down? Maybe I should have. Anyway, it's too late now.

Day Twenty-one,

It’s been three weeks since you took your last breath. I miss you.

We finally made it back home.

Day Thirty,

I wish you were here. They think they might have found another planet, but I am scared. I don’t think I can do that again. I’m not sure we deserve another chance. I keep thinking about the planet that killed you and where we buried you here at home. I am going to stay with you. Maybe we can figure out a way to heal this earth.

I love you, Amanda. I’ll see you another day.