They’re Watching. They’re Watching.

        Not sure why I’m writing this. It’s not like anyone will ever read it. We could all be dead tomorrow if the Poachers change their minds.
        It was a warm day in October. Typical for Los Angeles, but then clouds started to form. They looked like those creepy caricatures guys draw on Venice beach. I was in high school during 3rd period gym class. The noise was the scariest, like a cackling thunder. Suddenly I couldn’t breath, no one could. The ships exhaust choked our atmosphere, but it cleared quickly. My friend, Bobby, tried to Google it on his phone… He typed “Aliens,” and ten links popped up instantly. They had struck around the world instantaneously.
        They took out a few cities: D.C., Berlin, Hong Kong. Los Angeles was left intact. I guess the Poachers liked watching television as much we did. I forgot who started the name “Poachers,” might have been the Daily Show? Which brings me to my next point. They didn’t wipe us out, or enslave us, really. They just left us “as is.” Except, randomly, Bobby, and his family were killed. It didn’t seem fair. Not like Bobby was gonna start the uprising, or anything. Oh, and they’ve been mining our soil for Silica. Why? The A.U., or Adjunct United, the new world government, didn’t tell us much. They claimed they didn’t know, since the Poachers had made their demands, and flew out of here just as quickly. Only leaving behind their osmosis machine for the Silica.
       “Do it, or else.” That was all they told us in the American sector. Three years later, and things just kind of keep going. People on TV still make jokes, so I guess there’s still hope. The A.U. promised we would all be relocated if the topsoil is left completely useless. Either way, the people of Planet Earth seem calm. I’m just not sure myself, but Dad tells me “it will work itself out in the end.”
       Anyways, writing my journal helps me. And maybe after I’m dead, there could be a revolution, and people will find my writing and be inspired. Hopefully they read English. Until then, I write, pen and paper, for myself, because they say, “They’re watching.”

~~Story and Photo by Ian Russell

Visions of my Forefathers

        I am the sum total of my ancestors.  I guess we all probably think we are in some way.  You assume that your appearance resembles your grandparents, or that your children will look like you, but it will be mostly coincidence.  You probably live in the same part of the world as the family that came before you, so you look a lot like those around you.  However, I am very different.  I am the sum total of all those in my bloodline that came before me.  I don’t have a choice in the matter, and it defines who I am in every aspect that the words human being can mean.

        My great grandfather killed men by the dozens as an infantryman in the Battle of Cantigny.  His son killed men from the starless skies above Berlin.  My father killed men in the jungles near Nam Dong.  The ghosts of those men they killed lived with them, and they now live with me.  Here in Kamdesh, Afghanistan, I am made quite aware that hundreds of ethereal beings are now part of me, passed through the bloodlines of my ancestors and I have become them.  I now realize that I have never been myself, only a composite of all of these men.  I only come to this realization because I am a woman, and here on the battlefield, the ghosts are confused and angry, as they guide bullets from those frightened young boys on the hill, hastily towards me.  I am powerless to stop them now.

~~Story by Eric Feder