Ephemeris

14 : Meadows of Delight

March 15, 2030

Dear Luna,

The Umbrae has won the war. They had eaten most of the light that this home had. Are they real? No. They are just figments of my weird imagination. But for me, they are real because they keep on hurting me. They are the creatures that snatched our hope, love, and our remaining days on Earth—our waning existence. When I open my eyes, I see a gray and dreary home. Outside, everything is uncontrollably floating, disgustingly messy, and sickening with a stench of decay. My ears hurt with the sound of hush that keeps stabbing my eardrums, which is also the sound of death, the piercing war cry of the ugly Umbrae.

When I exposed myself outside to wander or seek solitude, the golden sun stung its infernal rays at me. How can I escape the vigilant radiance of the sun? Plainly, I can hide in the corners where shadows triumph. But remember, Umbrae drapes their faces with the curtains of shadows, protecting them from the lethal light of the mighty Helios. But then again, Umbrae will not stop devouring all sources of light in the world. They will evolve. I am sure of it. They are preparing to obscure and destroy the master of the heavens with their foul-biting plague. As I saw in my dream the other day, all will go gray.

I hope that you remember my birthday. It's today! I am now fourteen. A year is not enough to fix our past—the wound of Daddy's heart, the bleeding of Mommy's womb, and the crossing of your soul to the other side. It's impossible to mend it, but I will fix it. Believe me. I can do it. I don't know how and when, but I will.

I don't want to be sad on my birthday. Luna, can you cheer me up? I am getting crazier day after day, I observed. I don't know how to smile anymore. My lips are numb with all the sickness I caught. Well, I want to pour out all of my burdens through this thing. In these letters, you are within me, helping and lending me strength.

If you were here with me, maybe you would laugh at me because I stuck the paper on my study desk with sticky tape while struggling to write this letter as the weightlessness was pulling my body away from it. I secured the pencil with my firm grip to finish this. I thought I liked floating, but it felt like extra suffering toward our bitter end. Of course, Dad liked floating because he's an astronaut. Maneuvering in a weightless environment, like in outer space, is a piece of cake to him. I didn't bother to knock on Mommy's room. I am still angry at her, but I hope she's all right and finding comfort in her sleep.

When will this agony end? Please, tell me. I am waiting for the finale. I know you knew it. Could you share it with me? Tell me. I beg you.

I try my best to feel good tonight, but I can't. I cannot cease the flashing of events in my mind, dredging up memories of catastrophes. First, a strong earthquake hit our town, followed by terrifying nonstop global tremors, triggering a mass panic. Second, the weightlessness of everything, tiny or enormous, stones or boulders—all are in disorder. The unexplainable phenomenon, an anomaly, defies and bends the natural law. All are upside-down, purely abnormal. Third, the sun turned against us, whipping us with his heat of lasso, killing the world he had invested billions of years in creating life. The time has come, the right timing for the fiery king to redeem Earth from us. Fourth, the heartless thieves stole our food. They left us morsels of scraps, a gesture of charity perhaps. A cupcake was all I had in my hands, celebrating my birthday. And there is hostility and misery all over the planet.

What is going on? What are these crazy things going around? Can I still achieve happiness or feel love amidst all this madness? Please help me because a part of me longs for a company to aid this solitary.

Loneliness is the worst kind of pain. It is toxic that grows from within, paralyzing my unripe spirit. The dark poison invades my tissues leaking to each of my cells, leading them to apoptosis.

There is something in my guts crawling to get out. My head commands me to puke, but it does not reply. Why did I need to vomit? Was it because Mommy, Daddy, and you abandoned me? I think I deserved this. This is my penance. I can manage. I am strong. And so I swallow hard and survive despair with fortitude. They abandoned me for whatever their reasons were. Because sometimes you have to kill what you love, and they do it. They left me for dead! Alone—all by myself—that is me. It weighs too much until I can't move, but I endure it. I cried for several nights. I shed tears on my pillow, but nobody cared. But crying makes me stronger, a remedy to my dark thoughts.

I have an idea! Emotions and thoughts spark, burning up my head. They told me that you, Luna, are in a great place called paradise. They said it is a garden beautifully filled with trees, flowers, and butterflies—a place of true happiness. Maybe you can take me there and be with you because you are the only one persistently listening to my madness. It's my birthday today, and I didn't make a wish. Tonight, before I sleep after tethering myself with a cord, I'll think of you simply to dream with you. I will hold on to the thought of meadows of delight and you as I drift off fast to sleep, repeatedly saying my wish.

"I wish to join you on the other side. Be my companion. Let me be your friend. Let my soul escape from this vessel and this cruel world. I am not afraid. Let me join you in Eden."

Sincerely,

Daniel