Creative Writing/Hero’s Journey: An Extraterrestrial Tale

Here is my short story we did in my English class-enjoy!

There is no space left on earth.

We used to have our own suburban homes, twenty-acre farms, luxurious penthouses, you name it. Those things no longer exist. You see, in Washington, D.C., of the year 2070, everyone lives in pods the size of a twin bed. No taller, no shorter. Each family of pods—literally—are linked so as not to be separated.

Fifty years ago, safety laws were enforced across America, then the continent, then the world. Since then, the death toll has decreased drastically. New cures for illnesses were found by doctors and scientists, which means there’s a one-in-a-million chance anyone could get infected. Our studies have grown so advanced, a cure for cancer has even been found! With these safer environments and laws, people have lived longer than ever before.

My name is Carmen Heath. I work for NASA. My cropped brown haircut makes me stick out like a sore thumb amongst most women, who generally have thigh-length hair nowadays. It’s a trend. My not-so-tall stature is common among many women, too.

For years I have tried to get the government to pay attention to my ideas about our population problem, but fate never allowed it. Until recently . . .

NASA’s mission director, Simon Hect, and I have been close colleagues for many years. We discuss many plans and ideas, and basically how to impact the world in a positive way. When I told him my brainstorm, he told me I should launch a mission of exploration to Mars. “Since Earth is too crowded, like you always say,” he continued, “why not get permission from the government to explore the possibility of a population transfer to Mars?”

My fear inclined me to become skeptical. “What if they veto the idea?”

He grandly declared, “If they want the planet to combust, they’ll say that. I say seek adventure, be rebellious, save the world!”

I pondered that for days on end. Finally, I telegraphed a letter to President Allen, asking for consent to do as Simon had encouraged me. As I had foreseen, she rejected the proposition. Anxiety and doubt flooded my thoughts. Maybe she was right. I hadn’t thought this through enough. What if my country turned against me?

Little did I know that someone else had the same idea as I . . . the Emperor of Japan heard about me and my idea from the director of Japan’s space program, who heard it from Simon. The Emperor agreed that my idea would work, and contacted President Allen. This formed an alliance with Japan on the project to move people to Mars and explore. Soon, other world leaders found out, so now I’m the Head Organizer for the project. Without the help of other countries, I never would have been able to go to Mars.

Unfortunately, President Allen decided to make a law against all space exploits. She did not want to put our country and world in danger, and thought the plan to populate Mars was too far-fetched. According to her, we should all accept the fact that earth is crowded for a reason. Why not? We didn’t know what the living conditions were on Mars. That’s the whole point of our investigation. Whatever—I’m not going to argue in a circle through telegraphic messages with our government.

Of course, by now it was much too late for her to stop us. Regardless of her regulation, I had decided to put the plan in action anyway—if I didn’t, our world would continue to suffer. We were already taking off!

The force of the lift-off pulled my skin back, making it so that I had a silly, unintentional grin on my face. It felt as if my face was like rubber stretching. At last we burst through the ozone and into the vast unknown. Cue the singing angels.

Before us stretched an infinity of stars and glowing dust, a gorgeous spectacle. There was no sound—the universe was eternally silent—except for the gasps of awe from those aboard the shuttle.

“You may now release your body restraints and move about the shuttle,” our Navigator announced over the speakers.

“Can we exit the ship?” I inquired. A German scientist babbled a reply I could not make out, but he seemed to be shaking his head.

We stayed in space for a day, living off of “space food,” until we finally arrived on Mars. There was a red haze about the planet, making it so that every surface was painted scarlet. I could not hear anything with my helmet on, but there was a distinctly musty smell about the planet. In the time we were there, we had some mishaps that really got in the way of my mission: data from journals and computers were being torn out or deleted; fuses and circuits were taken out of electric supplies; and at one point, an Australian’s oxygen tank had a leak in it, so they only set foot on Mars for two minutes. All of this seemed entirely too coincidental—my suspicion was immediately stirred.

I had a hunch there was a saboteur on this shuttle. And I think President Allen was behind it. Oooh, the fiend! My head felt hot as I realized she wanted my mission to fail. Well, she was going to have to get through me first. I wasn’t about to play immature cat-and-mouse government games! I had a plan to catch the evil-doer, and I was going to stick to it. When I reported the plan to the pilot, he suggested I just leave it alone and not worry about it, or call a meeting.

“No! I want to catch him myself!”

“Alright Carmen, but things would be a whole lot easier if you did call a meeting,” he said carefully.

Fine. I don’t need a wise ol’ pilot’s help.

My plan did not work. I stayed up all night—or whatever you call it in space—to see if anything would happen while everyone was supposed to be asleep. At one point I thought I heard someone awaken, but other than that nothing happened.

The next day, I got to explore Mars. The atmosphere felt as if we were underwater—it was thick and unmoving. Of course, the glee of floating from spot to spot brought all of us explorers much pleasure and relief of the stress of space travel. The red soil-like substance beneath our feet was tough and jagged—the whole terrain looked and felt rugged.

We explored and recorded our data for an hour or so and then started heading back to the ship. Only, there was no ship. We were stranded. Who had done this?!

“Someone had better explain this right now,” I hissed through my teeth, albeit no one could hear that. The saboteur bravely stepped forward.

“I am in service to President Allen. You are not to continue with your mission; she will not permit it,” he explained. I was enraged. This man had deliberately marooned us on another planet and ruined my mission.

“We will leave this man here and return to Earth by calling the crew,” I instructed.

“Miss Heath, that’s unreasonable. Why don’t we just telegraph President Allen with a light-speed aircraft to transport us back to Earth?” suggested the Australian man.

“No. This man cannot b—“

I can’t believe I was having such harsh ideas—leaving a man to die on Mars! Preposterous, but he deserved it. . . perhaps we could complete the mission at the NASA station. I was beginning to feel the wheels turning in my head.

“I suppose that would work, and either way we would be able to complete our mission, and hopefully have residents here,” I looked at Simon for agreement.

“I say we try it and unite with President Allen!” Simon proclaimed. I contemplated the conversation I had just gone through. Maybe other ideas do work. Other people, after all, do have valid points. In the past, people called me a control freak. Now I understand.

We telegraphed President Allen requesting a rescue shuttle, and it did not take her long to reach us. We all boarded the mini-shuttle, and sky-rocketed back toward Earth. Ah, so long, space. See you later.

President Allen was glad to transport us home, and decided that yes, we should make a “Mars Neighborhood.” With our ideas combined, great things would be coming for the rest of our lives.

We plunged back through the ozone, the air sweltering around the shuttle. We touched down perfectly and safely. To my great relief, the other spaceship had already landed, too. All of us, after we entered the station, were plagued by the media. Every newschannel throughout the world was on.

My mission now felt more complete. President Allen and I were on good terms, and we were incorporating other nations’ ideas and theories into civilizing Mars, too. Now that I have grown in my ability to listen to others, I can accomplish many great things. The “Mars Neighborhood Project” has proven to be a success, and our world will forever be united.