New Earth

by Shauna Lyu

I miss my old life and the self I lost along with it.
I still remember the good times when everything was “normal”. Back then, so few people noticed climate change, much less cared about it. Our world has drastically changed so much since 9 years ago, when I was only 7.
“You know, Rita, I miss him,” Erin, my best friend, suddenly says on her lounge chair.
“Me too.” I look down from my balcony, and then glance at my mother through a window. She’s in her room, sleeping, like she always is these days since we found out that she’s in early-stage lung cancer from air pollution.
The violent ocean waves slap against the protective transparent shell that covers our city. I say “city”, but it’s more like an island with a mostly indestructible dome over us so the waves and the heat won’t destroy the population. That makes the continuously recycled air inside horrendously bad, which, in turn, has given people cancer at an increasingly high speed. There are other cities protected by these domes, but we have no way of reaching them in person. The “him” Erin was talking about is our friend, Stanley, who was separated into another city. The three of us made up a friend group, before everything happened in that one year.
I remember that day as if it was yesterday. For that week, the ocean level was rising at an alarming rate. So much that the governments were starting to move people onto the man-made islands we now live on. They garnered hate from the people because they knew, for centuries, that eventually, climate change would get to the point where it would be so unbearable that we would have to leave. However, instead of trying to solve the problem, they prepared a plan B.
Although they said that this was “temporary” and would get better, many people don’t believe them anymore, considering the way they handled climate change and the fact that we have spent nearly a decade on man-made islands. We were all very much trying to remain positive at first, but now, even the most optimistic is starting to let the fear and uncertainty seep in. I was a very naive kid before, but now, as I matured quickly from my living environment, I have become much more practical. It happened on that one significant day, 3 months after we settled on the islands, when it suddenly hit me that we weren’t going back.
And we weren’t ever going to see our friends and family again.
That this would become the definition of normal.
I shake my head wildly, trying to clear my head of memories and come back to my new reality.
The sun shines behind the tall buildings, reflecting off the windows. I turn to look at Erin, who has dozed off, her face as innocent as a child’s.
Gratefulness and positivity wash over me unexpectedly, as I realize how fortunate I am to have my friend of many years and my mother with me.
Here’s to hoping everything gets better.