By Katerina Bonderud, TIWP Student

I broke through the glass which most people call the atmosphere. My bones squished under the power of gravity as I didn’t fall, but was thrown to the earth. I was slapped by the harsh wind that gave no forgiveness. This place was no where near like my planet. My home planet. This place did not want me in it. In fact, it wanted far far away from it’s lush lands.

Then it happened. Time. There is only so much we drown in everyday, yet we are still dry. I woke up for the first time. My limbs being torn apart and I was only going back into time.

“Though, is there even time? What is time? What is the time? WHAT IS THE TIME?! WHY THE HECK AM I HERE!?”

I never got an answer. And I guess it’s because I’m the only one who can answer.

I was born, then died. However, I am still here and I do not know why.  Not as a ghost, but as a human with the powers of an exploded wonderland.

I stopped aging when I finally hit the wet muddy grass, grass that belonged to earth. Not Planet Vacuous. I was seventeen. I am still seventeen.

I opened my eyes to the bright star you call, “The Sun”  peeking through clouds. I laid with the ground caressing what was left of me—which didn’t feel like much. But it was all of me. All of my bare skin, red curls, organs and, most surprisingly, my not-shattered bones.

The ground felt like needles. But soft, thin needles… I smiled for the first time in a very very long time. “I made it.” I whispered. And for another time of firsts, tears streamed down my face from the pain that my body was being tortured by. Or should I say my body was torturing it?

I.

Could.

Not.

Move.

I was stiff as a rock.

This gravity absolutely, with no doubt, hated me. And I hated it right back.