They Came From Nowhere

Warmth. Something that many should feel in their lifetimes. Seeing the sun on a bright, shiny day. Frolicking in the sand box as a child. Digging up mysteries that other children had left behind. A memory that Jackson Ohinno would remember vividly. He remembered the day he discovered a rare action figure left in the sand showing to his mother the treasure some poor kid left behind.  Brightly grinning from ear to ear at this discovery. And of course, his mother let him keep it since no one came for it.

A vice that many would kill for these days. Light in a dark filled Earth. He doesn't know how long it's been since real warmth had ever licked at his skin. Ten... twelve years? He's lost count. Time seemed to be fleeting these days just to live and survive. Jackson's arms pressured to shove away the snow that built up around his campsite. Tossing it away aimlessly in no particular direction. He doesn't even know if it's day or night anymore. The world is not the same anymore. No more technology. No more radio. Batteries could be traded if one had a particular item that was interesting to the buyer. But, most of all... time had been lost.

Jackson knows that the sun didn't just leave randomly. No... the 'visitors' came. Everyone and Everything knew these visitors would spell the end. No one had gotten close enough to tell the tale of what these beings actually looked like. Some speculated they were at least eight feet tall. Some speculated they had several eyes that looked like insects. How they could easily kill humans who tried to revolt. That's where it all started... in his early teenager years. The memory of it all. The panic. The fear. The uncertainty of when the sun would come back. These creatures somehow managed to take the sun away from Earth as if they had just snatched it and took it somewhere else.

He stabs the ground with the end of the shovel deciding enough is enough. He'll live for now with the amount of snow that pummeling down anyway. Entering back into the old school bus that was left abandoned and rusting for years. A memory of children laughing and talking to one another played in his head. Thinking how these children had to live with the fact their sun would never come back. Spending years in a wintry, isolated Earth. Snow days were consistent. The government tried to make the most of it. Yet, people were not satisfied. They were outraged. How could the government not do anything? How could the military not fight back? All these questions were left unanswered. The ones that they DID try to answer were false promises of a future that would never return.

Jackson missed the little things. Burnt toast on a Saturday morning. Watching terrible cartoons slumped against his bed eating eggs as a side with his toast. His mother annoying him about not getting things done. A roll of his eyes to his mothers' nagging.  He'd give anything back to hear her voice a final time. It’s been so many years since he’s seen his family. He remembered the crying and the screaming of the visitors entering his home. They were cloaked in shadow. Their height staggering over them. They truly were like insects in the face of these monstrosities. They told Jackson to run. To run and never look back. And he did. Through tears and arguing he ran like a coward instead of fighting back. But what could he have done? He was merely fifteen when they came. Fifteen when those extraterrestrial beings left him alone in this cold, snow filled world. All Jackson could do is wonder: What now?

What point is there now that the world has gone array? What point is there to living day after day, looking for supplies and avoiding the visitors? Visitors. Hmph. His idea is more like conquerors. 

He lies his back against the old, scratched up leather of the school bus. Silence eerie as the snow ridden cloudy night. His gaze falters onto the window of the bus watching the snowfall. His breath fogged against the glass. Waiting for anything to catch his attention besides for the snow. Nothing. Nothing but silence, snow clicking against the glass, and his breathing. Cold. He felt cold. Something he figured he might be used to by this point. But no. It still felt the same as it did years ago. He needed a distraction. He shifted in his seat and slumped his backpack onto the ground between his feet, unzipping the contents of the bag and shuffling through what supplies he did have from scouring. 

He pulls out a simple journal that one might find on a child’s desk. The spiral notebook is a soft blue color. However, the metal rings are disconnected from the journal. Making the tip of the rings look sharper than normal. Plucking a dated pen from the crevices of the spiral he clicks the pen. Opening to a fresh page, Jackson scribbles his thoughts into the page.

“Update. December 20th… 2046. Things have been the same for the most part. I still think it’s best for me to leave this damn bus at some point. It’s too silent and vacant in this bus. Sure, it’s in the middle of nowhere. But I guess that’s the beauty of it. No one is trying to rob me or kill me if the visitors arrive. Not like there is much left if I’m honest. It’s like each day that I wake up, I’m trying to find some sort of meaning to it all. Why do I live? Why do I keep going out day after day trying to find hope that there’s going to be a bright and sunny day? I guess… It’s just that’s all I got. Some weird, twisted hope that things will come back to the way things were.”

Jackson pauses. His eyes closing and feeling his deepest emotions welling up. His mental state is in shambles from the isolation. He wishes that ANYONE could be out there just wanting to live like he does. Yet in this stranded country, this stranded state of Louisiana did he find no one. Jackson felt internally hopeless even atop the hope of finding someone. He continues.

“I just want to survive with someone. Anyone. I don’t care who it is anymore. It’s been several years and I’ve found no one. Am I the only one left here? Or… are people too afraid to come out? I might’ve seen a visitor recently. I think about a week ago. They were  just… standing there. Observing a building… and then left. Like they were trying to figure out if it was worth looking at. I guess they didn’t find anything if it took them merely five minutes to look at it. I would greet them, but I’m not stupid enough to die by them. I sometimes find notes of other survivors in the houses I try to find supplies in. They say that those who come in contact with the visitors are never seen again. Usually dragging by the neck. All they could hear were their screams and pleas for help. But, no one came. I get scared that’ll happen to me if I leave here. I run the chance of running into one of those things if I leave the safety of this bus.”

His mind begins to race thoughts of himself being dragged away into a corner, never to be seen again. Afraid of getting killed by those things. Jackson shuddered at the thought. And not just from the cold either. He’s lived too long now to die here. He continues for his final thoughts.

“I really should leave. I feel like I’m sort of exposed out here. I feel like each time that I leave the bus… they’ll find me. I try not to leave tracks, but it’s hard when everything is covered in goddamn snow. So, I’ll leave after tomorrow. I need to try and cover my tracks. If I can anyway. I think that’s the best choice. Leave Louisiana, find Arizona. I wonder what snow in Arizona would look like. I’ve got a buddy from Arizona that I can try to find. I really hope she’s alive. Because if she isn’t? Then truly am I alone.” 

He places a palm on his forehead. The thoughts racing again. He doesn’t want to imagine Beverly dead. His childhood friend always used to play with him until she moved away to Arizona. They stayed in contact, but over the years they haven’t spoken. Lives change, he guesses. 

He hasn’t seen her since he left his family as a teenager. Or… really since he was a kid since they fell out of contact physically around when he turned eleven. A part of him wondered if that’s where that inkling of hope came from. To see her again and to rekindle that friendship that he had lost. Jackson felt his cheeks split into a warm smile when he thinks of those memories of trouble making kids only for them to be scolded by their parents for their mischief. What he would give to have those days back. 

Closing the journal, Jackson sinks back into his seat. One last glance out the window. Nothing between him but the glass, the snowfall and himself. One day, Beverly. One day. For now, Jackson closes his eyes, knowing he would yet again only get a very handful of sleep accounted to his mental state. At least he had security inside of the bus and shelter for the time being. But after tomorrow? There’s no telling what would await him out there in the freezing snow. No sunlight. No flashlights. Nothing. He’s scared. But isn’t it human to be scared of the unknown? The visitors have taught him that very much is that whatever is worth pursuing is probably for the best not to be found in the long run. His mind swirls with vivid nightmares about the traumatic event of the ‘murder’ as he liked to recall it. Or dishearteningly recall it. Sleep doesn’t come easy for Jackson, but he needed to try. There wouldn’t be a sunrise to wake him, so he would sleep as long as he needed to. Otherwise, he WILL die from lack of awareness of the visitor that stood mere teen feet away from the bus.