Turtle.

This is sort of Science Fiction, I suppose. It needs work, I know. Really rough. Hopefully, I will be able to edit it later.

 

           “What’s wrong, Crystal?” she asked in a bored voice, from her seat beside mine. Rain drops had started to hit my wind shield and roll off, slowly. The sky had turned a light shade of gray. The sky was a shade darker than the road, and the road was a shade darker than the river that lay on both sides of it. It was a planet painted gray. I wondered, for a moment, if anyone else noticed. If anyone else noticed anything anymore.

            What was wrong? It was a hard question to answer, in my case. Maybe an easier question would be ‘What was right?’ I challenged myself to think of a time when thing’s were right. A time when I was alright. But I couldn’t. It hurt too much.

            Sarah swerved a little into the left hand lane. “F**k. I think I just hit a turtle,” she muttered.

            A turtle? Her words awoke some compassionate part of me that reminded me of who I was. I wanted the turtle to live. Because for some reason, if it could live, if it could make it to the other side of the road to whatever it was seeking, maybe I could make it too. It was a ridiculous thought; absurd, even. But I felt like I wanted to break down and cry for the damn thing. I was shocked by my reaction, but I felt so helpless. So… hurt.

            “Hey, kid… What are you thinking about?” Sarah asked me, glancing in my direction. I shrugged in reply. She knew better than to act like she cared. I knew she wasn’t capable of that sort of feeling. No one was. Sarah was a tall, fake blond, boney girl. She looked very much like the rest of them, and I could hardly stand to look at her. Our destination was Sarah’s parent’s house. I, supposedly, had just been let out of the mental hospital for four attempted suicides.

            Basically, you know you’re pathetic when you can’t even kill yourself; for the first three times, at least…

 

            We arrived at our destination after a car ride of a couple hours that seemed to go on for forever. Sometimes, you don’t know you are anywhere as unhappy as you truly are until you just start crying and you can’t stop. I guess that was the case with me. I thought about the turtle that disgusting blond hit with her car, and I felt one tear after another slide down my cheeks. It was an odd sensation, but it was relieving, in a sense.

            “Crystal, What are you balling about?” Sarah asked. She seemed to never stop asking questions. I ignored her, and found my way to my bedroom in my parent’s house, which really wasn’t mine at all.

 

            Reaching inside my jeans pocket, I found a small, square piece of equipment. It had only two buttons. It served only one purpose.

            “Hello, Maddy,” he said to me, gently, “I was hoping to hear from you soon…”

            “Dutch, I want to come home,” I swallowed, hard, hoping not to cry in front of him. My words caught him off guard.

            “Ah, now… You have been doing so well. I just don’t…”

            “This planet is awful,” I was losing control, “My host body might possibly be the most stupid human alive… or dead… Her step sister makes me sick. I can’t take much more of this. Send me a ship back to Venus, Dutch. Please…”

            He sighed, and leaned back in his chair. I waited, patiently and hoping for a miracle. “I know it’s hard, but… we need you.”

            “My God, Dutch. I’m begging you,” Tears trailed down my cheeks again, harder. My voice cracked on the last word. I didn’t want anymore of this. I wanted to go home.

            Dutch looked at me for a long moment. “I miss you, Maddy.”

            “I miss you too. I love you,” I said, desperately.

            He leaned forward. His red eyes burning with a compassionate that reminded me of what I had left behind. “I love you too. I’ll see what I can do, okay?” Then the screen turned black, and I was left alone, lost somewhere inside a spongy human body that I found I hated more than most things.

 

            I looked in the mirror at my mounds of flesh, blood, and bone that I was thriving in. It almost made me want to laugh out of bitterness. “Well, Crystal, at least now I know why you committed suicide… Not that it matters, I suppose,” I said to no one in particular. Then I leaned against Crystal’s window and fantasized about the planet’s upcoming destruction. Our people might be compassionate ones, but my mission was complete. We would have no trouble blowing up such sadistic creatures as these.   

Reviews

[Raef C. Boylan]

I like how the story concept changed...I mean, technically it didn't change, it was this way all along, but for the reader it is a sudden revealing of what the situation truly is. You did a great job of it.
The assumptions we make show how feeling suicidal truly does alienate, because none of her thoughts stood out as odd prior to knowing that she was no longer human.

Great write. I think it works fine as a short story in its own right, but it's good enough to consider expanding too...depends on how you, the author, feel about it.

Thanks for sharing this.

p.s.
"think of a time when thing's were right" [things, no apostrophe because plural]
"Crystal, What are you balling about?" [bawling?]
"His red eyes burning with a compassionate that" [compassion?] or [compassionate what?]

[An owl on the moon]

Has a depth like one of my favorite SF writers, Ursula K. Le Guin. Deep, dark feel that is both inviting and haunting at the same time. Excellent start! Would love to see you expand this!!!