The People In the City Were Sad

The people in the city were sad.  Actually… they were more than sad: they were being killed.  You see, when beings capable of space travel descend upon the earth, it isn’t good. 
One afternoon about three days ago banana shaped ships appeared in the sky and dropped beings unto the planet.  Since then things have more or less gone to shit. 

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People were crying, screaming, and yelling from everywhere within the crowded room.  Many turned and commented in unison: “It’s moving.”

“Where are they taking us?” A woman cried out. 

“Oh save us almighty Lord.” Another man shouted.

As the ship made sharp turns through the atmosphere, people bounced off one another falling to the floor and onto each other.

“Oh Jesus this is it.  This is Armageddon.  I repent almighty God, I am a sinner and I repent!” The sounds of people vomiting echoed throughout the room. 
         
“I want my mom.” A small child whimpered pitifully. 
         
In the middle of the madness sat a lone dog oblivious to the chaos.  The animal was happy simply to be with company, though having one hell of a time trying to stay upright.
         
In a moments notice all the rattling of the ship and moving people stopped and all became still.  A large door opened and the sight of a million stars glistened in the distance. 
         
An audible gasp filled the room.
         
“It’s beautiful.” 
         
At that moment the room was depressurized and all aboard were drawn out into the vacuum.  All locked with their mouths wide and their arms outstretched grasping at nothing but empty space.  Their home planet was the size of a dime visible in the distance.  It would be the last time they would see their home. 

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“Do not fear what you do not understand,” the being spoke in a mechanical voice through a translator. “You will join us.  Your planet is now our planet.  The life you once knew is over.  The reminder that you are all that is left of your species should be enough to convince you struggle is pointless.  You do not realize it but we have saved your existence.  This race was never bound for greatness but for destruction.  This can be improved.  We span billions of systems in millions of galaxies.  You are privileged.  Everyone here is the few of your species worth salvaging."

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One stopped moving and uttered a sound, “Hey”.  A pause, “This place.  I remember this place.  A long time ago, we used to live here.  I suppose we still do.  But today it looks different.  I don’t want to be here anymore.  I am feeling nauseous.”  Losing its gaze on the heavens, the being stopped, wavered, and fell onto the ground.

Slowly twisting about the being began to examine its own corporeal self.  “This is not my arm.  But it is my arm at the same time.  I want my arm back.”  The pathetic being sat in sad wonder of its own self.  Not moving for nothing, for several days.  “There use to be food.  Why have I not eaten any food?  I’m not thirsty.” 
For the first time, the being looked around and noticed other glistening creatures that had arms and legs like it wandering about the landscape.  They were carrying on without carrying on any conversations of any kind.  They moved about efficiently from one place to another undertaking this or that.  “This isn’t how things used to be.  Why have things changed?  I have never seen any of these things before now.  My mind is only somewhat here.  I used to have dreams.  I remember.  They felt like this.”     

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Metal saws whined off in the distance as structures impossibly tall reached through the heavens.  Thousands of towers intricately interlaced with metal beams coursing through this like blood vessels.  If one gazed up for too long surely they felt the grip of hell and the impulse of sickening thoughts.  What was the purpose of these mechanical masters; controlling everything showering us with body parts and metal disks?  How have they provided vivid hallucinations of sinful fantasies and terrible nightmares?  The hammering was diligently infuriating and frightening.  Its not for forever certain this entertainment and delusion.  As a canoe courses through the most dense putrefied jungle and emerges on the other side scraped and broken so go we.  On and on racing towards something we cannot imagine just like our master’s faces. Will we never understand?  Everything everyone sees is only in one shade: red.  Those of us who are aware, long for the clear blue we remember.  It is impossible to remember everything with all of what has happened to us, to our bodies.

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They see the mirror and they see their master’s face.  They listen to the broadcast and they hear they’re own message.  They are all walking in unison toward a vessel, which will carry them for very long for very far away.  They have only one drive now: existence.  There is no joy, sadness, love, art, religion, hate, jealousy, but there is existence.  This is enough.  The ignorance that is the other places will become the understanding of this place.  Everything changes and eventually it is known that everything will start again.  Until then however, there is existence and existence for others.  And this is what drives them forward.  The understanding.  And the rest of the existence will understand before they are done.