Young Writers Society

She made sure to roll up her pant legs before wading into the stream. Carefully, she stepped out of her slippers and let her feet touch the water. Shivers erupted as she took her first step in. Usually, the Iris summer made the water feel like a warm bath– Oh, right. They weren’t connected to Iris anymore. They were a chunk of the planet thrown into its orbit after some big explosions. What did they call it? A moon? Something like that. Eleanor couldn’t quite remember. All she knew was a bridge was just finished and soon, this thing called a "neighbor" would appear.

Eleanor dunked a tin bucket into the freezing river, then another and another. She remembered the news very clearly. “You see that house on the hill over there?” Daddy said just a few nights ago, “They’re building a house over there. Soon, we’re gonna have some neighbors. Just them. Doubt they’re gonna try and cram more people in after that. Maybe they’ll have kids around your age.”

She doubted that. It didn’t seem likely that there would be someone like her anywhere in the universe.

She was okay with that.

Finally, she clambered out of the freezing water and back onto the cool grass, quickly putting her slippers on. It didn’t stop her toes from being brushed, but at least it wasn’t as chilling as the stream. Going out far enough, you’d be able to see the water flow off into the endless void called space. It was beautiful, despite the dangers Daddy warned her about. Hefting each bucket into a makeshift conga line from her shoulders to her wrists, she ran as fast as possible without spilling anything. In the end, she had to make long strides to keep from dripping.

Iris’s landscape was much different than the main planets she was taught of. There were millions, but Daddy and her came from Earth in the very beginning. Then, some people moved to Mars, and then… Well, their history lessons hadn’t gotten that far before the war. All she knew was Daddy lived on Earth, then decided to travel here. Eleanor knew Iris was much prettier than all the others, though. The common leaf was purple, the grass was soft mint, although teal in the forests, most metals were coated in a pink hue, and water flowed a beautiful and rich shade of green that still managed to be soft on the eyes. Lady Gaia had nothing on this.

Though, Daddy laughed whenever she said it. Those born on Iris often had weak eyes and wore sunglasses whenever traveling to other planets. Still, living in a place where sea-green hair was a natural color had to be cooler than a place full of brown and blondes.

“Daddy,” Eleanor lazily called as she stepped onto the porch, “I’m back. Can you make breakfast now?” As soon as she entered the small townhouse, the girl dropped the tin pails and kicked her slides off.

“You went out there in pajamas?” Daddy laughed, his mug of hot coffee steaming up his glasses. He coughed and rubbed them on his shirt. “It’s barely negative ten degrees out there!” he laughed and sipped the mug, “I’ll never understand how Pupils think this is normal.”

Only a few days ago did she learn that “Pupils” meant you were native to Iris. Eleanor crossed her arms and fiddled the shoulder strap on her camisole. How did someone from Earth know more of her planet than she did? “I dunno how you think seventy degrees isn’t hotter than the Sun itself!.”

Daddy simply chuckled and zipped his coat up slightly tighter. “That’s only because I’m from the Americas. You’ll find Celsius much more agreeable.”

Eleanor simply nodded. Their lessons weren’t on continent level yet. Or was it a country? Ah, why did it even matter? She’d just grab a tour guide if Daddy ever decided to take her. “What’s the difference?” she asked as she sat at the table. Her father quickly stood up and began pouring the water into their kitchen plumbing.

He thought for a moment, then smiled. “Fahrenheit is how bodies on Earth feel temperature. Celsius is how the elements feel it. That's what I imagine, at least.”

“Neat,” she responded plainly. By now, she had learned to ask questions she didn’t care about. It kept him from reminding her about the importance of school. The countless times Daddy asked her if she did any of the homework he handed her were ingrained into her brain. Yes, dad. No, dad. Halfway, dad. I’m done, can we play now? 

Every day was the same routine. Yet she’d rather keep it that way. At least she knew how to handle it.

“Ellie, baby,” he said, turning the stove on and setting a pan on it, “Go put some actual clothes on.” Eleanor groaned, much to her father’s amusement. “It’s Saturday. No schooling.”

And so, Eleanor ran upstairs while Daddy cooked breakfast. Her room was akin to a cozy cubbyhole, but she didn’t mind. The pink walls and decals were comforting. She threw herself out of her flower-patterned pajamas and scrambled to find something comfortable to wear. Just as she found a pair of large jeans, a sight from the window took her attention. 

Usually, the view was the fluffy, cotton-like grass with seldom trees in the background. 

Usually, one lonely tree house stood out among the crowd, built by her father’s hand.

Now, a strange house stood right on the hill, looming carelessly. She could barely see it. It was mostly a speck in the distance, but it was still an ugly one. This little chunk floating in orbit was for them only and nobody else should be welcome. Life just wasn’t fair like that, was it? Ellie prayed it was just for decoration.

Then she saw another girl. She was investigating the tree house. She wore a handkerchief over her head and a dirty dress.

Eleanor retreated from the windowsill and threw a basic shirt over her head. She bolted downstairs and ran straight to the door. “Daddy, I'm going to play."

"Not before breakfast." Eleanor stopped dead in her tracks.

"But–" she was about to argue.

"Sorry. You know how I feel about meals," he said. So, Eleanor sulked to her chair in defeat. She slumped down in her chair, crossing her arms and pouting.

She looked down. Today was eggs and toast, an Earthly classic (apparently). “Where’s the eggs from? We don’t have birds here.”

“Imported,” Daddy replied simply as he handed his daughter a fork.

“How?”

“What do you think the new bridge is for?” he chuckled. Silence lingered, only interrupted by the sound of chewing and an occasional glass of water. “Are you excited to go to a real school?” he asked.

The quiet prolonged. Eleanor pricked herself on the shiny tines. He didn’t say a word.

“When do I start going?” she finally whispered.

Daddy smiled lightly. “This Monday.”

Eleanor swallowed nervously. For as long as she could remember, they were together on this little island they called home. Now she'd have to cross the bridge she ignored every single day. "Are you going?"

"To school?" he asked. "No. But I do have a job lined up. Journalism. We can cross the bridge together in the morning." There was no reason to speak up after that, but her father kept talking. “It won’t be as bad as you think. There will be kids like you there. You’ll finally get some better playmates than some jackalope.”

That was an insult! The cute purple jackalope hopping around with their little noses and antlers were great friends! Besides, if Daddy warned that sometimes people were mean and said bad things about people they didn’t know, then why was he so insistent on human friends? Speaking of, what happened to the girl in stained clothes?

“I’m finished,” Eleanor pushed her plate to the table. “I’m gonna go play now.”

Her father huffed and scraped the remains of her food onto his plate. “Be back for lunch.”

She hesitated a moment. On one hand, she wanted to investigate this mysterious little girl by herself. On the other, Daddy probably wanted to know if that weird thing called a “neighbor” was here. Ellie could deduce that this was probably it.

Still, it’d be better if nobody interfered with her investigation. Tampering with evidence and all that stuff from Daddy’s crime novels. She had the beta tester for all his mad ramblings put to paper, no matter how gruesome. It was nice that he knew she could take it.

So, like in her father's newest novel where Detective Oscar searched for his wife’s killer, she lurked in the tall grass like a hound ready to pounce. Eleanor’s only focus was the dirty girl, until a smaller boy showed up beside her. Both were investigating her treehouse! What an outrage! That was her one safe space, to hide away from even her dad when she needed to. There was a plethora of comic books and board games for her to enjoy (though nobody to play them with), plus the few dolls she had been able to pack. If they even dared to touch her dolls with their dirty little hands, especially Kia with the cool arm tattoo–

“Taylor,” the girl said in a thick accent, “We shouldn’t go into it.” Eleanor tried to listen closer, but with the rustling of the cottony grass, it was difficult to not lull into a deep sleep. Maybe she could snatch and pet a jackalope and cuddle to sleep… But no! She had to watch them. For Kia with the cool arm tattoo. Instead of focusing on the blanketing grass that warmed her up just right, she tried to decipher the children’s accent. It was definitely Earthly. Just before everything happened, she remembered the news saying something about an influx of people moving in from Earth. She didn’t remember if they were complaining about it or not.

“Why not?” The little boy yelled, grabbing the ladder. “Nobody’s home. It’s not like I’ll take anything. I just want to investigate!” Eleanor felt awkward when she realized their similarities.

Both children had slightly hollowed out cheeks and simple clothes. A shirt and trousers, and a long, blue dress which covered her feet. It looked more like a woman’s hand-me-down than real kid’s clothes. Both were stained with grays and browns. The blonde little boy was better described as brunette than dirty blonde. Ellie couldn’t tell apart freckles from dirt etched into the skin. Thankfully, the older sister had black hair to hide most of that. They were so pale their flesh seemed more purple and garish than it really was.

“People don’t live in treehouses, stupid,” she giggled, “and breaking and entering is still a crime. Besides, Mom said we were gonna have neighbors. Maybe we should go ask someone first–”

“But I wanna investigate it now!” he screamed at her one last time before making his way inside. The little girl winced and called after her brother, eventually following him in.

That was the last straw! Eleanor dashed after the girl and grabbed her by the leg. “Outta my treehouse!” she shouted, pulling her down with a harsh tug. The girl screamed like a banshee and fell to the ground, clutching her thigh. She was quick to scramble inside and throw the little boy out. She pushed past the blankets and pillows to check on Kia.

On a short stand stood a pristine toy with curly pink hair, clothes personally sewn by a long-gone woman called “Mommy,” and a tattoo of a beautiful butterfly with sprawling wings on her right shoulder. Millions of bright pinks, blues, greens, and every other color were in each and every scale. The larger butterfly emerged from a larger flower with other grazing insects surrounding it and floating by.

With a sigh of relief, Eleanor rubbed her right shoulder and traced the ink absentmindedly.

“Hey! What the heck was that for?! You hurt my sister!” Of course, relief didn’t last long.

Eleanor poked her head out of the treehouse with her doll clutched to her chest. “You broke into my treehouse! I’m defending my property!” Only then did she get a good look at the girl. She knew that the foot she yanked on didn’t feel like proper skin, but she imagined it was just all the dirt ingrained in their pores. Eleanor watched with wide and guilty eyes as she saw the little girl cradle a prosthetic leg, flinching as her little brother helped soothe it back on properly.

“Jerk! You could’ve ruined her leg or something! It cost a fortune!” the little boy said, stomping his foot and pouting. The older sister stood up with apparent ease.

“She didn’t know, Taylor. Let her be,” she told him with a soft smile. Even so, a harsh glare was given to Eleanor when she locked eyes with her.

Eleanor rubbed her neck. “Well, fake leg or not, don’t break into my treehouse! I’ve got gold and rubies up here,” she lied, “I can’t risk anyone stealing them!”

The siblings easily saw through it, giving each other a glance before looking back up. Eleanor heard the story that siblings were psychic before, but only now was she starting to believe it.

“Ellie? Are you alright?” With his glasses on, Daddy approached the treehouse with a puzzled look. Then, he noticed two other children around his waist. His eyes lit up. “Oh! You must be the neighbors. Atticus Dunne,” He stuck his hand out, “Nice to meet you.”

The little boy was quite open for a firm handshake. The girl, on the other hand, politely declined. Eleanor never heard her dad’s name before. She saw it in his stories and documents, sure, but there was never anyone around to say it. “Sophia and Taylor Gatlon. Nice to meet you.”

“Why, what an astute young lady,” Daddy said in a posh accent. The children giggled. “I assume you met my daughter already. Eleanor?” He called.

She hid behind the window of the treehouse, scared to face this new reality. First, trying to go back down to that planet for a day of school, then two new kids to deal with, then her dad forcing friendship on her. Eleanor quickly grabbed the blankets and hid herself, pretending that she was nothing more than a clump. Eventually, Daddy yelled again.

“Ellie? You alright up there?” he said.

No, in fact, she wasn’t. Too many new people all in one place. Too much noise. Voices sounded like gunshots and explosions. Soon enough, she’d be yelled at again and she'd hear turrets and sirens blaring in her ears. Simple rustling sounded like the screams and shouts of people dying in the streets.

“Come on down,” he said gently, “Why don’t we go meet their parents?”

Eleanor covered her ears. No more. No more! She didn’t want neighbors, she didn’t want a bridge, she didn’t want to go to school, any of it! All the makings of a normal child were not for her. The very idea of returning to that planet scared her to death. Sure, she missed the village of fishing and farming folk, and sure, all she had left of that time was a tattoo and a doll, but that was fine!

Though, at some point, Eleanor realized how stupid she must’ve looked. She peaked out the window. Instead of war machines and crying voices, two kids and her dad stood awkwardly beside each other, looking straight up.

Sophia tilted her head occasionally.

Taylor scratched his arm sometimes.

Maybe Daddy would adjust his glasses.

Eleanor carefully placed Kia onto her stand and climbed down the treehouse. Sophia nodded her head up. Daddy went on to the new neighbors house, but Sophia was sure to make her stay. “If you don’t apologize my brother won’t stop bugging you.”

Ellie scanned her up and down. She stared for a moment.

“I’ve bitten someone’s ear off,” Taylor grit his teeth.

Eleanor decided she’d rather not know how or why. “Fine. Sorry.”

The siblings nodded, and then they were off.