The Sun

July 19, 4324

It had been a while now; no one in our town had seen the sun's warm light overcome the clouds, or the sky a shade of blue. The sky has been forever gray, the air forever cold, and the sun was hiding, retired it seemed, for a long time. As the days went by with each snow and each hail that fell from the sky like tears of the sun, many, too, shed tears for warmth; tired of the cold and longing for something different. Miles away from civilization, the endless abyss of white became our unchanging view. It seemed impossible to get back what we once had, a summer of solace, but a continuous winter of woe was what faced us. We hadn’t the slightest hope we would get it back; at least not until an announcement was made on the radio. 

I scrambled forward on the plyboards as I heard the static coming from the speaker, my eyes searching, ravaged by what they had to say. Everyone had gathered around me as well, the same heart-racing thump in their chest, a small chatter brought up from the excitement. Before I knew it, a crowd was formed in the small room, our breaths heaving in unison, just as our thoughts were sharing the same idea; that this could be the day. The Announcer cleared its throat, preparing the news, the distinct sound of shuffling papers in his hands echoed through the speakers. Then it began:

“Good afternoon, citizens. We have exciting data to share with you this evening. As you all may have realized, announcements such as these are very rare and happen in case of emergencies or natural disasters. And, after monitoring the recent weather patterns, we have concluded a very out worldly event. This information may come as a surprise to you all, as it should. The clouds have shifted westward, contrasting to its usual route of going north, leaving the sun soon-to-be bare. We do not know how long this will last, or even if our calculations are correct. Nevertheless, we advise you to be well prepared, stay indoors, and do not, under any circumstances, go outside. After many decades of a frigid temperature, we are not compatible with hot weather just yet, and, worse yet, we may have run into a heat wave. Because of this, we need as much protection from the sun as possible. This is for our safety and yours. We thank you for your cooperation and understanding. Sincerely, The Announcer.”

A deafening silence filled the small room, like the announcement stifled our voices to nothing; scaring us away like a lion would to a mouse. It didn’t last long, though, as the silence turned into hushed whispers, the whispers turned into murmurs, the murmurs grew into talk, and the talk into shouts of exhilaration.

“We shall have a sun, after these many cold years of solitude and perseverance, and it will be the most important event in the century.”

“What’s better, we will be the ones to witness it!”

Cheers had erupted from the men as if they had finally conquered a war with weather. Women had exchanged smiles with their children. All but me stood alone, pampering my thoughts.

The clamor was overwhelming and somehow convincing, and for a second I thought it was a good thing; as the sun coming out after decades was supposed to be. I didn’t think much of it at first, but, just like The Announcer had warned, a danger lurked in this miracle. I looked out the window, my eyes catching a void of white, and then back to my pale, numb hands. Maybe it was a good thing, maybe the warnings were of little importance to the bigger idea, and I, like everyone else, should be fuming with excitement. Then, why did I feel sick with doubt?

I snapped out of it as someone patted my back with a heavy hand, my body lurching forward at the sudden contact. I quickly fixed myself upright, realizing it was Frank; the 63-year-old man who I found nagging and annoying; but I loved him like I would my father. I cleared my throat.

“What?”

His eyes danced around, his body movements ecstatic. “Now, Marvey, aren’t you just excited? Wasn’t this the phenomenon you were waiting for?”

“I am excited.”

He sat down next to me, grabbing my hand. I knew better not to pull away. “You don’t look excited.”

“I am.” I furrowed my brows. “Just leave me, Frank. I’m not in the mood to argue.” 

“Oh, you’re always like that.”

I could feel his hesitancy, but he let go of my hand and left me alone. 

…

The next few days after the announcement was held, changes had erupted steadily. Snow and hail no longer fell from the sagging clouds—now looking deflated—, and the sky had begun to grow a lighter shade of gray, almost white; and soon it looked as if the seasons were colliding together in a matter of weeks. The snow had begun to thaw, leaving traces of spring, spring soon turned into the warmth of summer; and that was when we had finally spotted the sun peak from the parting clouds. 

Careful not to touch the glass on the panel, as I was afraid it would burn me, I looked out the window and winced at the sudden light. Never, not in my lifetime of living in this barren outskirts of earth, have I seen such a spectacle that strung my curiosity to a certain point where it left my mouth open, aghast and wonder-struck. The temperature was unlike anything I’d felt before; the view was beyond my apprehension. I slowly trailed my fingers up the glass, and, finding the warmth bearable (enjoyable, too), I kept my palm there, feeling the slight tingle cascade through my blood. Suddenly, a burning sensation protruded through the glass, and I fell back from the sudden heat, landing on the wooden floor, dumbfounded. My breath hitched as my palm turned a faint red that contrasted with my usual white-skinned self. After a while, the aching began to cease, and I gave a confused huff. I quickly shut the curtains, set my hand down in the sink, and ran it through cold water, my breath slowing, my mind scattered, thinking. If the slightest interaction with the sun did that, what could it do if we were exposed? I couldn’t bear the thought, the “what ifs,” the twisted ideas that danced around like little haunting nightmares. I needed to tell the others; I needed to tell Frank. 

I knocked on his door, waiting with a tapping foot for it to open. And waiting. 

Waiting killed me. 

But if it was for the sake of Frank, I’d spare my patience.

It didn’t last long, though. One can only ask for so much.

…

September 3, 4315

“Marvey, open the door!” I could hear Frank’s voice behind the thin walls. I crammed my fingers in my ears, rubbing my elbow across my tear-stained crust. I scrunched my face and kicked my legs in discomfort, holding my back to the door.

“Frank, just go away!”

“Open it, now.” 

There was a tone in his voice I couldn’t muster back in mine, so I slowly lifted myself up from the little ball of pity I formed and turned the knob. Frank was holding the jumping rope with one hand, and another one to take.

“My boy, you can’t give up like that. Closing doors always opens windows. We can always try again tomorrow.”

…

With each second that passed, the more my doubt grew. By the minute mark, I could sense he wasn’t there. I couldn’t shake the feeling that he had already discovered the sun’s awakening, and I couldn’t shake my eyes from seeing a crowd of people outside that began to form slowly; whooping and throwing their hands up with a hallelujah. I didn’t care much about them; they could be stupid and risk their lives. They didn’t know the fate that was coming for them like I did. Stopping them was out of the question; they were like battle-scarred beasts who were only tamed until they got what they wanted. I could only hope Frank wasn’t there; I could only hope he wasn’t some beast. But, I couldn’t risk it. So there I went, pushing through the group of people, trying to spot an older man with a balding haircut and a kind smile. Everything was seen as a blur; it could’ve been my lightheadedness from the sun, or it could’ve been my plain urgency. As I passed each man and woman, though, something caught my attention. Some sort of liquid fell from their brow, and there I stared in disbelief. The tears of death, they must be. The eyes must be in shock, so the body must have moved their tears to their forehead. They ought to be dying. I’ll soon be like that if I don’t hurry. Hurry, Marvey.

So there, I made my way through the people, repeatedly yelling for Frank, but there was no answer with each holler I gave; even with how much emphasis I put in. 

“Frank, Frank!”

“We need to go, Frank!”

“Frank, don’t be kidding me; answer!”

Of course, I was being silly, and I didn’t expect him to answer amid all the chaos, but desperation had overtaken my reasoning. I had no reasoning, really, I just wanted him here; asking me question after question, whatever he had to bother me with, I’d oblige to it. I’d oblige. Don’t pity yourself now, you’re better than that. 

My steps began to trail back where I started, and I was almost sure Frank was there wasn't here.

But then this voice in my head, this little prancing, incompetent sough, kept on telling me:

“God, Marvey, focus. You were never born to be like this. If Frank dies, it’s all your fault. All your fault, Marvey, focus. You were never born to be like this. If Frank dies, it’s all your fault. All your fault, Marvey, focus…”

I couldn't just let an "almost sure" slide.

It was twilight, so outside was nearly dark and placid and still, but nothing stopped me from making out the distinct lumps on the ground. As my eyes slowly adjusted to the dullness, men scattered the prairie once covered with snow, dead like flies, the setting sun being the swatter. A substance lay stiff in puddles near their mouths, a repellent stench filling the humidity. No, because if all those nonchalant people had died, one might have meant something to me. With all those useless lives lost, one might have been important. The more I thought about it, the more I thought it was likely to be true. And the more I thought it was likely, the more I began to panic.

“God, Marvey, focus. You were never born to be like this. If Frank dies, it’s all your fault. All your fault, Marvey, focus. You were never born to be like this. If Frank dies, it’s all your fault. All your fault, Marvey, focus…”

There it went again. My rambling thoughts wouldn’t stop, so I would keep going. 

…

January 10, 4318 

“Stop your panicking, Marvey,” said Frank, nodding firmly. “It will never get to you; I won’t let it.” I stared at the blizzard outside, then at Frank. 

“So, would you do anything in your power to stop it from taking me away?”

“I would die to save you.” He reassured me. 

I laughed, thinking he was kidding, but it seemed he was taking it literally. “I don't think you would be able to.” I began slowly, looking doubtful at the man. “Are you lying?”

“No, why would I? You trust me, don’t you?”

“Okay.”

…

As I looked through the bodies with a sick face, none of which were Frank, and thus relieved. He’s not dead, and he must be somewhere back at the house, safe. I began to head back, a burden lifted off my shoulders and lighter than before, but something stopped me. A sensation erupted from the back of my throat, and an uneasiness rested in my stomach. I bent down, clutching my neck, sputtering. I couldn’t move, my body stiff and unshifting. I felt my forehead; wet and sticky with the things. There was an abrupt pause before something came out of my mouth, an impulse that I couldn’t control, and it surprised me. Lightheaded and nauseous, I went on my knees, breathing hitched breaths, lacking air. This pain was so unlike the cuts or bruises I’d had before. I could feel my insides turn out, and my outsides turn in. I had gotten chills even if it was 100 or so degrees outside, and my mouth started to quiver uncontrollably. It all went so fast, like I was racing my end to the finish line. I knew I was going to die, like all the others I’d seen. I rolled onto my side, lacking strength, staring at the small house I was not able to reach. I wish someone would see me, bring me in, save me; but most had died just like I did. If only Frank–my thoughts stopped, a curtain was pulled on the far right of the house. I used the rest of my strength to open my eyes wider. In the little window, I could make out the shape of an older man with a balding haircut. Frank, god, it was Frank! There was such a fervor of emotion latching onto me; happy he was okay, angry that I wouldn’t be able to say goodbye. As the sun folded into the night, the clouds enveloped it in their thick drape, thus repeating the cycle, and snowfall would fall for another century or so. And just like the sun, I had folded away too.

…

August 7, 4315

“You need to fold it like this, Marvey,” Frank ushered to his own pile, and then pointed at mine.

I gave a frustrated sigh, fiddling with the collar of my shirt. Reluctantly, I tried again, but it only looked like the first fold I did; a disaster. “Frank, I can’t do this. I don’t even want to do it.” I handed my lump of clothes to him, a sheepish smile plastered onto my face. “Here, you can do it.”

He shook his head sternly, his brows raised. “You’re going to learn, Marvey. I can’t let you give up so easily.”

…

Well, Frank, I guess I had.