Rebuild

By Emily guilfoyle

 

          All I wanted to do is breathe real air. That was the only thing on my lists. Every Christmas list, birthday list, and even bucket list. In my world, real air didn’t exist. We survived on recycled air supplied by a company called Breathe. They saved humans from extinction with their recycling air machines.

          About 60 years ago, an event called the Switch took place. It was when oxygen levels dropped so much that the Pod was built. Most of the Human population died along with all of the animals not brought to the Pod with special permission. People who worked for Breathe automatically were accepted in the Pod to live and they were called Premiums because they got free air. Others had to either pay or be useful to Breathe to get in and they were called Auxiliaries.

          Without air, every plant died, including plankton, one of the main oxygen sources. Grass, flowers, bushes, and even animals are gone too. Humans are here because we built a giant glass dome called the Pod. Recycled air was pumped into the Pod and it stayed there because the Pod is airtight. 

          We built recycling stations for air to ensure we never ran out. There are about 274,000 remaining residents in the Pod after the rebellion. Once my boyfriend Quinn really understood how bad it was to live the way I had to, he revolted, starting a rebellion that lasted for two years. Once it ended, we got to live-

          “Mom!” Alina called at the bottom of the stairs.

          “What?” I responded.

          “What are you doing?” she asked.

          “Nothing.” I lied. I was typing a memoir of humans’ history since the dropping oxygen. “Why?” 

           “I’m making dinner. What do you want?”

           “I’m not hungry,” I lied. I was finally starting my memoir after procrastinating all these years. I needed what had happened to be written for my future family. 

             A lot had changed since all of that, though. I typed. Like my daughter Alina and my son Silas. They were named after the pair that had saved my life. Alina with saving the Pod and Silas for teaching me how to breathe with low oxygen levels. Because of them, I lived my life outside the Pod in a town Maude, Bruce, Ronan, Quinn, Abel, Jo, Silas, and I built from what was left before the Switch. That’s where I live now, with my husband Quinn, with my children Alina and her husband Josh and Silas, and my granddaughters Bethany, Lucy, and Isabel. 

           Our town had quickly thrived, when more people had been trained enough to survive on our oxygen level out here without air tanks. We farmed and we built until we had citizens who could breathe in the Outlands with no problem. We called the town Moon, and not because of the beautiful view of the moon at night, but because of Alina Moon, who saved all of our lives. In the war to breathe freely.

          To breathe without problem, we worked hard to meditate and lower our heart rates. When we breed, we give birth to a new species, a type of humans who can survive on six percent oxygen levels, when humans usually have thirty-six percent.

          “Bean!” Quinn called from downstairs.

          What is it with all of the yelling from downstairs? “What?”

          “Come look at the television.”

          I made my way down the stairs one at a time, being careful not to fall. I turned the corner and on the television was in my politics class in eighth grade.

          “Today we mark the fiftieth anniversary of our town, Moon. Fifty years ago, a group of resistance settled here and most of us followed. At two o’clock this afternoon, there will be a ceremony to honor those who bravely stood up and left the safety of the Pod to start their own life here in Moon.”

          My eyes teared up at the thought. I wish Maude, Bruce, and Ronan would be here to watch the ceremony, especially Ronan, who had worked so hard to build houses and had just passed away last spring. 

          “You guys have to go,” Alina said.

          “Are you okay to go?” Quinn asked.

          “I’ll be okay. I just wish Maude, Bruce, and Ronan could go to,” I explain.

           At noon we left the house and were told what to do and where to sit.We were almost done when I pointed out a white cloth over an object. “What’s that?”

          “You’ll see,” the staff member replied.

           As the event took place, I found my family in the audience. Alina must not have gotten a babysitter and brought the triplets. The town was massive, and Ronan especially would be proud to see the thousands of people who live here because of us. 

          Mayor Lukas asked the remaining five of us onstage and announced our names as we entered the spotlight. When we all made it onstage, a countdown was started and I didn’t know why until I saw a;l of the faces in the crowd look behind in awe. There, in the center of the park, was a giant piece of granite with our names engraved into it. It read, “Moon Founded in 2083 by Abel, Alina, Bea, Bruce, Jo, Maude, Quinn, and Ronan “Breathing is a right, not a privilege.” – Alina Moon, 2068-2083.”