The dark place

How would you picture a life without being able to see the light of day? I can tell how it is, and I can assure you that it’s terribly awful. I live in a dark place, and I have been living here, with the rest of the town since the day the big shining star landed in our town. Those who came out of the big star were very pale individuals and kept pointing and asking us questions in a language that no one knew even existed, it sounded like the noise that the wind makes on a late autumn night when the lives have already left the warmness of the trees, laying down in a calming and comforting state. 

The star people, as we decided to call them urged us to enter the star and to take off with them, claiming that the end was near, so near that anyone who even thought of hesitating to come with them, would die very soon. Everyone hurried up and packed the bare necessities and urged to get inside the very bright star. What an awful mistake that was. 

They were right, the Earth exploded within minutes of us leaving the planet, but it would’ve been so much better than what came after. We later learned that the creatures that took us were actually mute and were fascinated by our ability to speak and understand each other in that manner. Another thing that got us so surprised was that they were also blind, not by birth, but because of the environment. When someone thinks of a starry sky, they would imagine all these little lights flicking just like little candles. Although the stars are very shiny, inside of them it’s nothing but darkness, it’s so bad that you can’t even see your hand if you hold it right in front of your very eyes.

Just like Moses who rescued the animals before God’s wrath came flooding all the land, these creatures took us to be able to understand how we were created. The first thing that impressed them was the anger we showed when they kept us captive without giving us any explanation. Presumably, no one else has done it before us, maybe the other “sheep” didn’t put up such a fight. 

After weeks they started testing our hearing, making us repeat whatever sound we were presented or to say the number of times that one of them hit a wooden plate. We felt like monkeys made to clap with the metallic plates on a stadium. They even made us small monkey beds so that we could rest after we were tested. There were even other people that spoke different languages than us. We learned pretty fast that the language wasn’t an impediment and that our collective hatred for these creatures brought us closer and closer.

The days went by, and they turned into weeks and then days and maybe even years. Everyone slowly but surely stopped counting as the time passed right by us while we were waiting to be asked to enter one of their rooms to be tested once again. 

Now coming back to the dark place. All the humans started calling it that, everyone in their own language and at their own pace. As I said, the creatures didn’t need to be seen because the space was very dark, but for us, it was a different kind of accommodation. When our hosts realized that their new toys weren’t able to function properly in the dark, they started making wind noises more frequently, getting impatient, as they were waiting for us to get to the predestined rooms as we stumbled and knocked into each other on our way. 

Finally, they started gathering items that probably were owned by their old toys. Everything looked strange to us, given that we weren’t used to the technology that was presented to us. Because of our hesitation, the creatures took the matter into their own hands and started grabbing and pushing people around as if they were trying to push a button that would make us figure things out. The cries for help made them stop immediately, realizing that these new toys could be a little more fragile than the previous ones. The pale individuals looked at each other in shock, their big empty eyes transmitting fear. I could never forget those white eyes that lacked pupils, that felt so empty and also so full of knowledge. Their faces had no expression, their mouth looked as if it was carved into their big bald heads and their head looked very weird, as they were big and pale, and the back of the skull looked like it was being stretched out in the back. They had no nose, not like they needed one because there was no smell in the sky. The pale creatures had no ears, just a small hole right behind the temples, just like birds do, although I doubted that they could hear anything, as they seemed to sense the vibrations that went through the air of the floor. Their slender bodies were covered in some kind of purple cloth with golden stars embroidered on them, we came to find out after they installed a light system. 

After realizing that they can’t make us understand how to use that kind of technology they left us confused in the dark for whoever knows how long. As they entered the room again, a bright light came pouring into the room, burning our eyes as if we had been deprived of this past joy. With steady heads and with their heads now light from the objects that they were caring for, they approached us. Very few dared to look at them directly, most of us deciding to hide, in search of the comforting darkness that we’ve known for so long. 

The creatures laid something on the ground and left once again. The source of that light, the pain in our eyes, the thing that made us remember home, the first drop of hope: a few earthy pieces of wood that have been burning with an all-so-known radish colour, luring us closer and closer.