Start Your Story With This Sentence:
- “Every morning I wake up in the armpit of this alien world.”
This prompt and others like it can be found here________________________________________
Every morning I wake up in the armpit of this alien world. Coming here was supposed to be a fresh start, yet I’ve seen nothing that symbolized a better, more promising life than I had back at Ecoden. Humans behaved so savagely for their own well-being while caring so little for those who struggled.
Upon arriving, I was not able to get a job, despite my references and experiences that I had back home. I was looked at as foul species. Despite my genetic makeup being a reality, the way humans looked at anything different from them was not with intrigue, but with a scorn of backhanded judgement. Even in this age, even after so many have immigrated from planets from all over the solar system–humans found reasons to discriminate. That was exactly how I ended up in a community home for others such as myself, and those humans who had little luck with finding work to pay for their lifestyle. Even then a person’s lifestyle was not filled with luxuries, but mainly necessities for survival. These days those necessities were becoming more difficult to come by. Water being one of them. Earth was the last planet with a steady supply of water for its people, but as more people immigrated, the supply began to dwindle, which raised the price of it.
At this rate I knew that what was once an accessible necessity would soon become a luxury made unavailable to those who couldn’t afford it.
“Ko’rah, are you getting up soon?” My bunk mate uttered wearily. Her long arm hung over the edge of the bed–far enough for me to nudge it with me nose. “It is going to take much more than a tickle to get me out of bed,” she giggled once I stretched my long legs out.
Despite the shit circumstances that we had on Earth, we would hang strong. After all, we didn’t come here to give up, but to show that our species was not one to bow down and wait for oblivion. No, we would be the ones to tackle whatever stood in our way, even if it meant sitting through days, weeks, even months in the slums of our so-called “privileged alien homes”.