Unbreathable

Chapter 3

Three nights ago, Galileo saw the  Earth. With a scope of metal and glass, stolen goods that in turn stole his life. I saw it too, when I stood beside him beneath the sky so dark. I saw the colors swirling unto one another, white, blue, green. Colors that don’t exist here.

I was his daughter. Was, because he denounced me when I denied him. Was, because he is dead and I am alive.

That night, Father and I trekked up the hill, where anything and everything seemed possible. There’s a sense of freedom that comes at such a height. It tingled through me as I leaned back against a boulder, fully aware of the dust and sand that would layer my back when I stood. The dust seemed to cling to our every breath, and as much as I hated it, I was used to it being a part of our lives. Besides, nothing could stop me from looking up at the depthless, beautiful night sky.

There’s nothing more beautiful to me than the stars. There’s something magical about them, and strong. They survive in a sea of black, shining and glowing despite the smothering darkness.

I’ve been trying to do the same. To survive, despite the harshness of our world, where food is scarce, rain is deadly, and life is bleak. Sometimes, though, it’s hard. Sometimes, I want to be like the stars that burst free.

Father said from Earth, some stars formed constellations. A picture to show us humans where to go or signs of societies past. On Jutaire, they are a mess of dots. Clusters here, scatterings there. But they are stars, something Jutaire shares with Earth, and that is enough for me.

From where I sat that night, the houses spread to my left and the Chamber stood isolated far to my right. Ahead of me was the market, the gallows in its center, bathed in moonlight. Behind the empty market stalls were the crophouses, a semi-circle of life from Earth.

This was my world.

So small, so uniform, so incomplete.

That night, Father set up the scope I didn’t even know he had made, took me by the hand, and wordlessly showed it to me: the planet Earth. It was real. It hadn’t exploded as the rumors whispered. It hadn’t shattered into a billion bits that the universe swallowed whole. A planet that should have been destroyed, that didn’t exist, now did. It made me lightheaded.

And I tripped.

The mask fell from my skin.

Who thinks before breathing?

I inhaled.

Heartbeats are all it takes for a human to find death once the air of Jutaire touches their lungs. But my heart was beating in my chest. I was still breathing. I wasn’t choking to death.

I could have sworn the particles were wreaking havoc inside my quivering body. But even as I sat there, reeling with incomprehension and fear, I knew something was wrong.

And for the first time, I felt exposed on the hill where I had always felt free. The world would know I breathed the air and did not die.

Worse, something in the way Father turned his face before I could meet his eyes told me this wasn’t a surprise to him.

I wrapped my arms around myself and shivered, despite the warm breeze. I didn’t dare breathe again. It was an accident and I was sure I wouldn’t be so lucky a second time. But I couldn't stop myself. This air was different. As unbreathable as it should be, I needed it, desperately wanted it. It was a living thing, caressing my lips, coaxing them open. It wanted to suffocate me. Fill me. Complete me.

Some part of me was sober enough to pick up my mask with trembling fingers and push it against my skin. The internal shield signaled on, shattering my lust. Cool oxygen blew against my skin as it came rushing in through tiny unseen tubes. I sucked in breath after breath. Never had I been so happy to breathe oxygen.