They arrived without fanfare. Just appeared out of the blue one day. Silver orbs hovering high in the sky above New York City, silent and reflective. No matter the weather or time of day, they were always there. And as the months passed, they began to pop up all over the world.

Once everyone realized it wasn’t some elaborate publicity stunt, panic set in. Speculation on the orbs’ intentions dominated every conversation. Trusted news networks booked Ancient Alien Conspiracy Theorists as their pundits and the theorists were more than happy to leave behind their novelty shows on the Discovery Channel. The anticipation of lasers shooting toward the earth, and destroying us all, cast a shadow over every moment of every day.

But time passed and nothing happened. The orbs just continued to hover silently above. It wasn’t long before the fear turned into anger. Anger born from the idea that we were being judged. It was as if there was nothing more jarring than knowing we were being fully seen, warts and all.

So, wars were paused and the poor were fed. Fairer laws were passed and no one was left to suffer sleepless nights on the street. There was never a mandate, it just happened. We were human after all, so it wasn’t surprising when the world as a whole adopted a “we’ll show them” attitude.

Kindness spread and gathered steam as easily as hate had for too long. Growing with every act performed in its name, kindness eventually became second nature. And not once did anyone shoot an “I told you so” up to the sky. If they had, they would have noticed that the orbs were gone.

Swallows gathered and swirled around one another near the tree line. I knew they were swallows from their double pointed tails and white chests. It was the only thing I learned yesterday. It may be the only thing I’ve learned since I’ve been here.

Camp. I didn’t know why they called it that. No one here was under the delusion that it was anything less than a prison. The counselors walked around with smiles, filled their sentences with rising tones and had a limitless list of outdoor activities to pack our days, but it was a prison nonetheless. One of them overheard me tell my bunk mate that, when you surround damaged city kids with endless miles of trees, there was no need for bars. Her eyes weren’t filled with the anger I’d expected, but even worse, it was pity. I hated when other people realized I was too smart for my circumstances, so I’ve avoided her ever since.

The cyclonic frenzy continued to grow and, at first, it made me a little nervous. Animals could sense things. Like impending doom. I scanned the trees for stumbling zombies and the sky for hovering giant silver discs that shot green lasers. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t disappointed when neither came to pass. It only took three weeks at this boring camp to make me miserable when odd bird activity wasn’t a precursor to the world ending.

In five minutes I’ll have to climb down off the bunk bed and head to a group session. If vampires or werewolves wanted to swarm the place, now would be the time. The group sessions were worse than the hikes and the canoeing. I didn’t understand why they thought talking would fix things. It wasn’t going to get my mom a job or keep the pipe out of my dad’s hand. It certainly wasn’t going to soften the war zone that was my walk to school. When one of the other kids actually spoke, the counselor’s faces would light up and I could see them banking their do-gooder points. Like they could redeem them for fancy coffees or something.

As if swept up by a gust of wind, the flurry of feathers rose above the tree tops in one cohesive, circling unit. It was so sudden I held my breath, believing this could be it. That whatever was going to go down was about to happen now. But, just as suddenly as they had gathered, they dispersed filling the sky with black and white confetti as they flew in every direction.

Watching as they grew smaller and smaller, an emptiness filled their void. And a tinge of jealousy. Of their community. Of their freedom. My chest felt like the birds had regrouped and gathered there. The flap of their wings threatening to dislodge emotions that I’d buried long ago.

Luckily, there was a rattled knock on the screen door to snap me back. It was time for group. I jumped down off the bunk and walked out under the blazing sun with the dizzying swirl still pounding in my chest.

Fiction Friday: [Rebranding]

Fiction Friday: [The Kettle]