Wednesday, March 16, 2016

"The Fog Horn" by Ray Bradbury


I am the last one of my kind. I do not know where they went, only that they are now gone. I cry out in the depths of the ocean, hearing nothing but the sound of silence. For millions of years I sat on the ocean floor, waiting in this dark murky isolation that someone would come and be with me. Small little fish swim above me as a sleep. I eat them to stay alive, but it is usually not enough. I tried surfacing a couple hundred years ago, however these tiny little creatures that have two legs started rushing and screaming at me. They shot these little pellets that hurt horribly. They came out of a small brass instrument; I am not sure what they were. They also used boxes with lights that came out and flashed them at me. I dove deep down and cried bitterly, knowing that if I ever try to come to safety they will hurt me.
One night, I heard a sound through the currents, a call from my people. I was desperate. I knew the sound was from far away, however, I have extremely enhanced hearing and can hear from long distances. I decided I have to try to find whoever is making this sound, and I set off on a journey. It took many moons for me to arrive. Throughout the trip I felt as if this was my last chance, and I might finally be reunited with my kind. I felt abandoned, and that I needed to finally ask them why they left me. I just wanted to see someone’s face again. I arrive in an isolated bay at nightfall. Looking up, I hear the call. I rise up struggling to see it. My vision is poor, but I see the creature has the same body as me, and a flashing eye. It calls to me, and I call to it. However, it never swims to me. I thrash around the whole night calling at it asking why it has left me in isolation driving me to insanity. It simply repeats the same call, not explaining itself, almost as if it doesn’t understand me. I feel betrayed and hurt. It gave me no answer, and I felt my heart sink.
I swim back to the ocean floor and curl into a ball. In anger I go after some larger fish, one with fins and another with a shell. I then feel awful, I justify eating the small fish by saying it is what keeps me alive, but when I go after the things that are bigger I can see into their eyes. I feel as if I am taking them away from a tribe. I know what that is like. I have been separated from mine now for far too long. I continue to make my pilgrimage to the creature two more times, and I still get no response. It will not come near me, and I am too fearful to come near it. I am distraught. I have been rejected and thrown away yet again; it is toying with my feelings. I sink back to the deep one last time, then as I make my journey back, I decide that I cannot take it anymore. As I rise to the surface and feel the water coming off of my body I stand up fully and stare level with the creature. It just menaces me in the eyes, taunting me. I decide that I am sick of waiting for it to come and be with me, when I know it will not. I cannot take the agony anymore. I just want to destroy it, so it cannot hurt me anymore and play with my heart. My eyes fill with tears and suddenly the creature stops calling to me.
In incontrollable rage, my eyes become fiery and I realize what I have to do. The call comes back, and I throw myself as hard as I can against it. I continue to use my weight as a battering ram, and it finally falls. It sinks in what I have done. The only thing that I had I have now destroyed. I felt my whole world shatter. I called out for the rest of the night, hoping it would wake up and call back to me. I tried to apologize, but it just wouldn’t respond. I swim away, knowing that was the last time I would return. I knew I couldn’t come back, since I had become too attached. For me to continue to survive my life, I now know I cannot love anything too much and be dependent, since I am too vulnerable to be hurt. I now sit in the black darkness, blaming myself for destroying my only friend. I live a life of loneliness, but at least I am strong. 

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