wilderness

 Journal Entry ~ 1 March 2123

It was not my intent to interfere in the situation, but when I saw that the salmon-pink artificial light of dusk was beginning to fade, I had no choice but to speak up.  If we stayed where we were much longer it would be too dark to find our way back to the sleeping hall, and I for one did not want to spend the night in the pitch-black cold of the work hall.

I remember when we first became subterranean.  I must have only been only five years old.  I was distracted on our tour of the facilities and fell behind my parents.  Before I knew it I was all alone and couldn't hear them talking anymore.  I began to hyperventilate in fear that made my head feel woozy, but I remembered what my mom had told me once. If I ever got lost just sit down and they would come to fetch me, so that is what I did.

But no one had told me about the complete and total darkness, or the sounds, and the smell that was with the sound.

I don't know how long I remained there with my eyes squeezed shut and my fingers in my ears to block out the sound.  But I do remember screaming for my mom at the top of my lungs until someone snatched me up on a run and carried me back into the light.

This time, however, I had no intention of ever experiencing that terror again, and my arm practically leaped out of the socket waving to get their attention.

"Look, everyone, unless you have a very strong and fully charged battery candle with you right now, can I make a suggestion that we continue this discussion in the dining hall?  I don't know if any of the old-timers like myself remember what the darkness brings, but if you want an overview you can always visit the Hall of Remembrance tomorrow.  During the day.  When it is light.  Please?"

An officer about my age looked up sharply as if remembering what it had been like when he might have been new to the subterranean.  His face was deeply scarred by what appeared to be claw marks, and I could see the pain in his eyes when he began to yell for everyone to move quickly toward the lighted tunnels and the dining and sleep halls.

Seventy-some years ago when we left the surface because of the pollution, destruction from wars, and solar flares, no one knew that we would be entering a new and uncharted wilderness.  No one knew what awaited us in the darkness.

We still don't know.

Participating in Words for Wednesday here.