Editing Journal Entry 154 - Surface Explorer

Journal Entry 154:

Another day of venturing on the surface of this barren planet makes me recall the day I left the community. I remember the sound of the metallic doors closing behind me and the hope I held in my heart as I journeyed into the unknown. But now I wish nothing more than to return to all those I have left behind. I miss the smiles, the laughs, and the camaraderie. Surprisingly, I even miss the classroom which was the last place I wanted to be. Now I would give anything to be back in there, as over these past few months I have been surrounded by nothing but death and the painful echoing of structures that supposedly once teemed with life. 

I still recall to this day, the stories the elders would tell us about the magical place known as the surface. How it was a place of hope and opportunity, where even an individual born to the lowest class can change their fate and become whoever they wanted to be. But as I walk around on the surface of this once ‘fertile’ planet, I've come to realize that the elders who guided our knowledge were once the children sitting listening to stories from their elders. They did not see the surface in all its glory, the large cluster of structures known as cities, and the odd metallic contraption said to once help people travel from one location to the next. They received stories that were passed down through the generations from one group of elders to the next and eventually all those who had lived experiences on the surface perished. Now all we had were stories that shaped our imagination of what lies outside the metallic doors, the intrigue and promise of returning back to our ancestral home. 

With every step I take on this barren landscape, my mind wanders and I’m transported back to my childhood where I’m sitting in awe of the lessons taught by the elders. Within every lesson was a cautionary tale, “Beware” they would say as we gather around the fire, “what lies beyond the doors is an environment where we humans lack any semblance of control, one wrong move and it could spell disaster”. At the time, viewing these cautionary tales as not but ways to deter us from being rebellious, now, as I drag my feet along dry soil of an endless desert, I realize the elders were not simply telling tales of woe, but were imparting knowledge that would help us survive on the surface. 

Returning from illusions of past events, I feel the dry soil cling to my boots as I inch closer to the man in front of me who is walking as though he could collapse with every step. Feeling the hard contact of the soil pressed against the arch of my foot, I feel this strange connection to the land and those who came before me. The feeling is almost welcoming as I come to realize even if I perish on this journey my name may eventually be forgotten within the community, the surface will always recall my existence. Knowing there's something that will remember my time in this sea of endlessness gives me great comfort and reassures me of my mission.   

As we press on under the scorching heat of the Sun, our once hopeful group of 8 has been reduced to a mere 5. From illness to injury, many of us have had our fair share of experiences but sadly it claimed the lives of 2 of our fellow adventurers as we travelled from the community to our current location. The 3rd member who is said to have perished disappeared in the middle of the night after experiencing a psychological break a few weeks ago. Since we were children we were taught psychological resilience, but our experiences on this barren planet have weighed heavily on many members of the group. After noticing the symptoms, our group tried to comfort him as best we could but we too were dealing with our own issues. Following a night of laughter where he seemed to have returned to us, the next morning he vanished. Gone by the time we all awoke, we desperately searched for him as we were taught that every life mattered and to never leave someone behind. But as we tracked his footsteps in the dirt using the skills we were taught by our elders, his footsteps all of a sudden disappeared. All that we had to remember our friend were fond memories and his hat that was found alongside his last perceivable footprint.