Before the fall

Lena

The smell of thin soup filled our small, worn-out kitchen as my mother stirred the pot, trying to stretch the little we had. The old wood-burning stove smoked, but it was all we could use to cook since electricity had become a rare luxury. Our house was simple, almost in ruins, with cracked walls and windows patched with old boards. But despite the misery, it was still our home, and that morning, life continued its precarious course.

It was the year 2195. Earth, once vibrant and full of life, was now on the brink of collapse. The once grand cities had become shadows of their former glory. The scarcity of resources had led to the fall of governments and chaos in much of the planet. Those who survived the devastation were forced to live in rudimentary ways, relying on old techniques to survive. The technological progress that had once taken us to the stars now seemed like a distant dream, accessible only to the few privileged who still had access to the major technological cities—places that were heavily protected and isolated from the misery engulfing the rest of the world.

I was sitting at the table with my father, who was trying to fix a broken radio, one of the few valuable objects we had left. He always believed that one day he would get it working again, even though we had been without electricity for months. The only music we heard came from my mother's mouth as she sang softly while stirring the soup, her gentle voice contrasting with the harsh reality we lived in.

“Lena, are you going out today?” my mother asked, turning to me with a tired smile. I worked as an assistant at a workshop in the city, doing whatever I could to fix anything that might still have some use. It was exhausting work, but the little I earned helped put food on the table—or at least tried to.

“Yes, I am,” I replied, standing up and grabbing my tattered coat. “I have a few repairs to do, nothing too difficult.”

My parents nodded, and my father smiled faintly, as he always did when trying to keep hope alive. I kissed each of them on the forehead and left the house, my heart tight as always when I left them behind.

As I walked through the potholed streets, the cold wind cut my face, and the city around me seemed even more desolate than the day before. The few people who still ventured outside were wrapped in rags, with looks of despair and fatigue. Earth had become an arid place where survival was the only thing left to fight for.

I still remembered the stories my grandparents told about the early 21st century—a time of abundance when technology and science promised a bright future for all. But as the decades passed, natural resources were depleted, the climate became unpredictable, and wars over water and food devastated entire nations. Now, at the end of the 22nd century, Earth was unrecognizable. The world was divided between those who lived in protected cities, using the remnants of advanced technology, and those like my family, who struggled to survive on a ravaged planet.

I arrived at the workshop, where old Mr. Salvatore was already sitting outside, a cigarette hanging from his lips and a distant look in his eyes. He greeted me with a nod, but his words were cut short by a distant sound—a rumble that made the ground tremble beneath our feet.

“What the hell is that?” he murmured, struggling to stand up.

We ran outside and looked at the sky. On the horizon, massive alien ships were slowly descending, like a storm about to hit the city. I felt panic rise in my chest, and before I could think of anything else, I started running. I needed to get home, I needed to find my parents.

The sounds of the invasion echoed through the city as I ran through the streets. Screams of fear, explosions, and the heavy noise of the ships that now blocked the sky. When I finally reached home, I found my parents at the door, their faces pale with terror as they watched the sky that had once seemed so harmless.

“What’s happening?” I cried, my voice choked with fear. But before they could answer, a group of terrifying alien soldiers descended upon us, their black, intimidating armor reflecting the little sunlight that still managed to pierce through the ships.

The aliens began patrolling the city, hunting down anyone who tried to resist. Our small neighborhood was one of the first to fall. In no time, the few resources we had left were looted, and we, who barely had enough to survive, now had nothing.

It was amidst this chaos that my parents made the hardest decision of their lives.

That night, as the sounds of destruction echoed in the distance, they called me into the small room where we always gathered to pray for better days. But this time, there were no prayers. There was only the weight of the decision they had made.

“Lena,” my mother began, her voice trembling as she held my hands, her palms rough and tired. “We... we need to make sure you’re safe.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, a sense of dread growing inside me. But I already knew, deep down, what was coming.

“We’re going to give you to them,” my father said, his voice faltering as he held back tears. “They promised to spare us if we do this. It’s the only way, Lena. The only way for you to survive.”

I wanted to scream, protest, tell them they couldn’t do this. But misery and fear had stolen my words. All I could do was look into their faces, seeing in them the reflection of a desperate decision. They were selling me to the enemy, hoping that this would save me.

It was then that my parents told me how they had come to this decision. Earlier that day, an alien officer, accompanied by two soldiers, had appeared at our door. His presence was imposing, a tall and slender figure, wrapped in gleaming armor that seemed made of some unknown metal. His face, though vaguely humanoid, was covered by a mask that only revealed his eyes—two bright points of amber that seemed to pierce through the soul.

They said the officer didn’t say much. He simply looked around the house, assessing the surroundings, as if deciding the value of what he saw. Then, he turned to my parents and, with a cold and authoritative voice, made the proposal: if they handed me over, if they offered their daughter as a tribute to the leader, they would be spared. Not only that, they would receive protection. They would be left in peace, with guarantees that they would not be forcibly removed or killed like so many others who had resisted.

The alien officer left little room for negotiation. He was clear: either they accepted the proposal, or they would be destroyed along with the rest of the population that dared to challenge the new order imposed by the invasion. For my parents, already weakened by poverty and despair, the choice seemed inevitable. They would hand me over to ensure that at least one of us survived.

I could see the pain in their eyes as they told this story, guilt eating away at every word that came out of their mouths. They asked for my forgiveness, even knowing that there was no forgiveness for what they were doing. But deep down, I knew they were doing it because they loved me. Because in that devastated world, where human life was worth so little, this was the only way to try and save me.

The next morning, I was taken to the alien headquarters. My parents said their painful goodbyes, with hugs and promises we knew were empty. They were handing me over to a life I didn’t know, to a fate I didn’t understand, all to ensure their own survival—and, in a way, mine.

The alien ship was cold and dark, a stark contrast to the warmth of our small house, even in poverty. The metal walls and the strange, unfamiliar sounds surrounded me as I was transported to what seemed like the end of everything. I was locked in a cell, with no idea of what was to come until finally, the door opened, and I was taken to a destiny that would change my life forever.

And so, I was led through the icy corridors, panic growing inside me with every step until I finally found myself in front of a door.