Pandora. It was something that we had envisioned, something children dreamed about at night. It was the thing that had everyone on edge. People were called crazy because of their talk of aliens, worlds, life in a planet other than our own.
But, that was simply the past.
Pandora exists. It is real. Scientists found it just a few months ago, with its hostile environment, and its violent changes in coloration during the night. Shadows made the planet a silent beacon of unknown light, vibrant hues of blue and violets seeming to issue from its core. The recording of the plant's year duration, day rotation, and so on and so forth was presented to the students of Earth only a few weeks ago. It's an intriguing planet, really, with its strange, tropical climate that lasts year round, and it's large reading of life forms.
I find it rather funny that they named it 'Pandora.' Pandora's Box nearly destroyed the Earth so long ago, according to the Greek myths told by our droning history teachers. The planet holds the most valuable rock in practically the universe at its core, but it also presents us with a hidden danger. To get to the rock, we must survive the elements, the natives, and the attacks from the very air around us.
Pandora is a killer, just like the Box. Too bad the first one to die from its deadly poison was me.
Pandora is better named Maeve, for it intoxicates us with its promise of riches and wealth, only to stab us deep, harshly in the back.
Maybe it's not Pandora's fault, though. Maybe it's the man who didn't build my quarters right on the ship who owns me my life, or maybe it's the man who made me work so hard at digging for the stone I was beginning to hate. Maybe it's not anyone's fault. Maybe Pandora issued me a favor by killing me. No longer do I suffer to dig up the earth and churn it for the slightest sign of precious stone. I no long hack up blood late at night, thinking that it was nothing but a rough bout of Strep that was causing me to cough so violently that I couldn't sleep at night, thinking I was rubbing my throat raw with my constant, rumbling fits that echo in my chest.
Maybe Pandora saved me from greed by killing me.
I can only hope she'll do the same for someone else. But maybe she'll open their eyes in a kinder way. Perhaps she'll let them live.
A/N: Nope. No idea where it came from. I own nothing but the narrator though.
Maeve = intoxicating [Irish Mythology]