My whole life, I have lived on level C, floor 6. Grandma loves to pine over the land, every Thursday, sitting by the window, holding the peach teacup in her shivering hands. C6 was the closest we could exist to the wasteland, especially due to Grandma’s health. She told me stories, only a few words would come out of her sickly lips, around ten to be exact, but I was thankful for them. She once mentioned something about artificial elegance and her eyes filled with tears, which made me think it must have been beautifully elegant once, the land and everything in it. I go to middle school all the way in E1, while level F seems just out of reach.
F, the golden level of high-class lunatics, farthest from the toxins of the wasteland, from us, the disregarded junky population. If you try to reach the sun, it will burn you, my hypocrite father used to say, until he went to F to work for a filthy rich solar panel expert. Meanwhile, our small and crooked hut surrounded by overgrown weeds and tangled electric wires sits firmly on the east outskirt of C6, where the smoke isn’t all that bad, most days. I used to be friends with the neighbour’s kid, then they moved to D. Everyone wants to move up and away from the past, survival valued over curiosity and sky over land. It was tranquil in a way, living in silence with my grandma, mostly avoiding the window facing the rotten ruins of the wasteland on a high visibility day.
While the curiosity boiled in me, I tried to find answers, a library I mean, with actual old-time books made of paper and whatnot, but only F had a library like that. There is no valuable information on the net about the wasteland or any detailed reports before the noted catastrophe of 2099 happened. Once I buried a seed in the porch of our house which is full of weeds now, I hoped to see a new leaf grow, different from the trashy dead plants all around C, but I got nothing. My grandma told me that plants would be my friend, but what do I do if they aren’t growing? People just keep living blindly and don’t want to see things around them. They are focused on greed, survival, and messily covering up and ignoring the melancholic past. Then last fall, things became annoyingly unbearable. The Mephitic Atmosphere Wasteland Squad or cranky MAWS as kids call it in school would blare out announcements on the loudspeakers every single morning.
We take the responsibility to provide you a toxin-free life, live as one with the wind and sky!
As if.
If not for the Death Penalty Act of 2100, I would have already taken the doom elevator down to A and at least tried to stare down at what the land was really about, or what it looks like up close. I was scared at first, thinking about the cranky MAWS. If only I could have the snazzy suit the cranky MAWS always wear, I could just disguise myself and blend in. And it would help if I didn’t just end up being a sad tragedy. But grandma’s movies that were filmed on the land, her old camera with the basic prime lens, her warm fuzzy gloves that she once wore and made actual snowballs, it all makes me feel like I am missing out on something pivotal. It was an inevitable misfortune that was bound to happen. All the adults and many children live by this slogan, they say it over and over, but somehow it irks me. The secrecy of details, and the forgotten incidents where evidence was found against humans’ contribution to the demolished land leading to the catastrophe, all seemed mysteriously annoying. There were times when they did routine inspections on weekends. Last Friday, every house on the C level was searched because someone possessed an “object of environmental harm,” just to be safe we had hidden most of Grandma’s old stuff in the drab attic.
When I fitted in my noise-cancelling earplugs to blur out the MAWS announcement this morning, I decided that today was the day. I don’t want any more of this dystopian life. I am scared of the thought of leaving my grandma alone when the world is already so desolate. But what if I sneak down there and find out that the land is absolutely fine, and it was all just a prank? If there is still a sea, just like in the olden days, would it really kill me to dip my feet in it? Will it actually be blue like the classic oil paintings, or muddy like the disgusting rain pond of B4? My grandma nodded slightly and that was enough for me. Her support was unwavering, before she could even speak out, I ran up to her, hugged her, and ran back to my damp small room to plan out my escape.
This week I leave C6 and head down. The curiosity that has been boiling inside me is now leaking out. I don’t care if the cranky MAWS put me behind bars or leave me in the landfill, but at least I’ll die knowing the truth instead of living this miserable sheltered life until the grimy conditions of low levels slowly devour C6 as well. Through the dingy alleyways of B, all the way to the dangerously packed and filthy homes of A, I want to know what my grandma and people in the past went through if the trash skyscrapers are real or just a myth if there is still a plant that can survive the dryland or any sign of life other than us and the stupid pesty birds. If the lower levels turn as filthy as the wastelands, and we cannot afford to even move to D then how will we even survive? This is the only way.
First, I mapped out levels A and B and the exact path that would lead me directly to the doom elevator on A1 without grabbing attention. Cranky MAWS have a local branch located in the west of B1, the same branch that conducts the routine inspections. Due to the high population and lack of water situation going on in A and the inspections scheduled for B, they will be occupied, and I will find my cue to snatch one of their suits. My chunky backpack should be good enough to fit it in. Then I just have to wear my facemask Ketra7 at the highest filter and aroma setting and pass through all the floors of A until I reach A1. Near the entrance of the doom elevator will be serious security, I will wear the stolen suit and deploy my ultimate distraction, which will be you.
Froggy tilts his head and speaks with a robotic tone, “So you made Froggy just for distracting these cranky MAWS? Froggy is of no use?”
No. I made you so I could talk to someone about all this chaos but also yes, I did need a distraction and I cannot trust anyone. Cranky MAWS and most people hate robot-like machines which is why as soon as your presence becomes known they will immediately want to arrest you. You will run all the way to B1 and hide in the safe spot that I will prepare beforehand.
“And what if Froggy get caught? Froggy is annoyed.”
You are my only hope, Froggy. If you do get caught, you will self-destruct, and I would have hopefully escaped by then.
“So, Froggy was just made to be destroyed? What if Froggy feels sad?”
If you feel sad then give me another idea for the distraction.
“Froggy don’t know how…”
Then just trust my plans. If it all works out, you will not need to self-destruct, and you will keep grandma company while I finally step into the disgusting landfill or the opposite beautiful land full of miscellaneous plants that were hidden in the blind spots all this time.
“Froggy is scared and you sound foolish.”
I am scared too, but I told you there is no other way. I am not foolish, at least I am trying this random escape plan, unlike all other people. Once I solve the mystery, I can save me and you and Grandma from this place. We can do things that will make us happy and maybe live in a better home.
“Froggy is glad to exist so Froggy will help.”
I am glad I made you Froggy. You know there was this strange but oddly cute amphibian that I saw on the net, apparently, they used to exist before the catastrophe. They had a long weird tongue and funky eyes, and they would just snatch bugs and stuff to eat them. It sounded so scary at first, but then I learned they were tiny and had adorable skin colours. That is how I came to name you, in the memory of those jumpy creatures that deserved to live. Think about how many Froggies must have existed. This is why I will stop this. I want the natural to not just disappear into thin air.
“Froggy like this.”