A/n: Here's Selena, so enjoy! Sorry for the bad start... By the way, I won't update very regularly because I simply cannot be online all day (unfortunately).
*Haileen's p.o.v.*
".. should've woken up by now."
My mind sluggishly processed the words. Someone was talking... A woman. What was she talking about?
"We can do nothing but wait."
I realized I was laying.. on a bed.
"Give her some time, I'm sure she'll wake up soon," a male voice replied.
Footsteps sounded, people were walking away. Silence remained. Curiosity took the better of me, and I opened my eyes. A bright light forced me to close them again quickly. I opened them again, slower this time so my eyes could get used to the white light. All I saw was a white.. ceiling. A white ceiling. I turned my head to one side. I saw I was in a room. The walls were white and blue, and there was a display with – were those medical measurements? Was I in a hospital or something? Why was I..?
Slowly my memories came back, and with them the pain.
When tears gathered in my eyes, I pushed the memories away to a dark corner of my mind and locked them up. I never wanted to see those things again. But this meant.. it meant I was alive.
Alive. I had survived. Laying on my back made the bridge of my nose hurt, so I decided I'd try to sit up. The muscles in my arms protested, but I managed to push myself into a sitting position. My lungs didn't react well to that. I suddenly started to cough involuntarily.
I was leaning on one arm and with the other, I clenched the soft fabric of the clothes I was wearing. The violent coughs hurt and I got the feeling I was choking... Sweat had formed on my forehead. I heard someone running in the distance.
"Calm down now, breathe slowly."
A woman gently lifted my head, her hands felt nice and cool no my hot skin.
"Look at me. Look at me!"
I tried to look, but tears made my vision blurry.
"Now, slowly breathe in - and out. In – and out."
I followed her orders, and to my surprise, it worked. My breathing became steadier. Reluctantly my muscles relaxed.
"There. Much better right?" the woman said with a soothing voice.
I wiped my tears away and looked at her. She had copper red hair, was wearing white clothes, and held something in front of me. She waved it across my face.
"Can you tell me your name?" she asked.
"Haileen. Where am I?"
"You're in the medical bay in San Francisco on Earth," she replied.
Earth. We'd made it to Earth, of all planets!
Speaking of 'we'...
"What happened? Where are the others? My father and mother and sister? Ander, Seraphina and Amber?" I asked hopefully.
Then I saw the look on the nurse's face. She stopped doing whatever she had been doing and looked at me with a pitiful look.
"Fifteen days ago scanners picked up a signal from an unidentified object: your shuttle. Almost all the life support systems had failed and it was more or less floating around. They found you more dead than alive, you were lucky to survive. The others.. it was too late for them."
My mind froze. Too late? They.. weren't here? No, they must be. They must be!
"I'm sorry," the nurse whispered.
No, no, this wasn't true. It couldn't be. They weren't... They couldn't… Could they be.. gone? A sob welled up from my throat.
No, after all we'd gone through, after facing the end of Valeritas, after all of this, they couldn't just be gone. A tear rolled down my cheek. Soon more followed. I buried my face in my knees with my arms wrapped around them. First I sobbed. Then I full-out cried.
"No, no, no.." I wailed.
Why did I survive, why? I remembered Amber's face, her smile, the sound of her laugh. The way her eyes lit up when she had an idea, the nights she'd come to my bedroom when she'd had a nightmare and she'd slept next to me. I remembered the sound of my mother's voice when she'd be singing in the kitchen whilst preparing a delicious meal, the way she would smile proudly when Amber or I had told her the things we'd learned that day on school. The way she'd held me when I'd got hurt or scared. I remembered the amazement in my father's eyes when we'd been working on the project, or when we were looking at star charts or maps in books. All the times that he'd helped me solve things I couldn't figure out myself, and that he'd run all the way back to our house to save us that night. All those memories flashed across my mind. Now I had lost them.
I'd lost them forever.
They hadn't been buried on their home planet.
They'd been buried on an alien one far away, which they'd never seen. They hadn't had the chance to. During the funeral I hadn't looked at anyone directly; I didn't know them anyway. Melanie – the nurse - had been next to me the whole time. Only when I'd laid the flowers on the graves I'd left that position. I had chosen scarlet pimpernels. They looked most like Amber's favourite flowers.
"Farewell, little sister," I'd whispered to them. I hadn't managed to keep my tears from streaming. Melanie had brought me back to my temporary room. In the dark, long after she'd gone away, I'd stared blankly at the darkness for hours.
The days after the funeral I'd hardly spoken a word.
The times I had been awake Melanie had talked to me, and had asked me basic things like my age and where I was from. She was very kind and tried to lift my spirits a little. She didn't ask any further when she saw I refused to speak, but when I did answer my voice was monotone. Mel had even given me something called a PADD; it took me quite a while to find out how it worked. This thing intrigued me a lot. There was so much I didn't know yet about this strange planet and about the cold, dark space. There was a lot more to learn than back on Valeritas.
*Melanie's p.o.v.*
I rubbed my eyes as I was walking through the white and blue corridors. Today had been a long day, but fortunately, it was over now. I only wanted to visit Haileen before I'd go home. As I was walking there I thought about the girl. When I'd seen her the first time she'd been unconscious. Her face had been pale, almost white, and her blonde hair almost like gold around. She'd been unconscious for two days, she'd seemed so small and fragile. It had surprised me when I'd found her awake. My heart had broken when I saw her eyes widen in disbelief when I'd told her the terrible news. I'd wrapped my arms around the small child. Her body had been shaking, her face wet of tears, her brown eyes like deep puddles of sorrow. Her deep despair had saddened me deeply. I felt so sorry for the poor girl. She'd fallen asleep in my arms and I gently had placed her head back on the pillow. The days after that every time I'd come to visit her she'd been staring blankly at the walls. She hadn't looked up a single time when I entered the room.
I yawned and was glad the day was over if my head would only tough a pillow I was sure I'd fall asleep right away. The door of Haileen's room slid aside and as I entered Haileen was reading something on the padd I'd given her a while ago. When I showed it to her she looked at it like it was worth a million.
"What is this?" she had asked me, and I had frowned. Everyone working with space-related matters was familiar with these.
"This is a padd. Personal Access Display Device. I thought you might like to have something to do."
Now she couldn't live without it.
"What are you reading?" I asked her. She looked up.
"Oh, just something about Earths History. It's pretty interesting, actually." Her voice was soft as ever. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed. I sat down next to her, and her warm brown eyes turned serious.
"Mel, you said I can leave this place tomorrow."
"That is right." I knew what she wanted to talk about.
"But... Mel, where do I go then? I mean- I can't live on my own yet – the government won't allow that, I'm 16 years old... And I don't know anyone. So what do I do next?" She was looking down at her hands. In the last few days, I had grown very fond of this girl, so there was no doubt in my voice when I spoke up.
"You know, that's what I wanted to ask you; I thought, perhaps, you could come to live with me, here, in San Francisco. Only if you want to of course," I added quickly. Her head snapped up, the surprised look on her face made me smile.
"You mean, I could live with you, and you want that?"
I nodded, and she surprised me by throwing her arms around my waist.
"Oh, I'd love to! Thank you so, so much!" The girl pulled back, and for the first time since I'd met her, she smiled.
4 years later
*Selena's p.o.v.*
It was dark. Pitch black. I couldn't even see my hands. I was cold too, almost freezing, but I wasn't shivering because of that. It was the screaming.
"Selena! Selena!" A shrieking female voice echoed through the darkness, terrified and broken. "No, leave her alone! Selena!" I knew that voice all too well.
"Mum?" My voice sounded soft, scared and young. I was scared.
"Run away Selena! Go fast – Don't touch her!" Sounds of a struggle cut off her voice. Suddenly a big hand came out of nowhere and grabbed my left arm. I screamed. "Mama! Mum, help me!" I struggled to free my arm, but the man had an iron grip.
I shot up, the rate of my breathing was faster than average. My throat was raw from screaming. The soft fabric clenched in my hands was being held tight to my chest. When I realized it had only been a nightmare I gradually became calmer. The night event puzzled me, for nightmares seldom occurred. While my mind was rising from slowness realization hit me, that it had been a memory. It came as a shock to me that the memory which I'd locked away and secured heavily for years had broken free this easy.
And haunted me again. The day before had been a tough one; the mental exhaustion must have been the cause for the lack of alertness.
It was 5 AM, so I had the choice either to try to gain some more sleep or prepare for the day coming. Considering the circumstances I opted for the last one. I threw my legs to one side of my bed and got up. Because the apartment I lived in was exactly 73.25 m³, I had everything immediately at hand when needed. The practicality in some way suited me. A part of me, at least.
I fetched a laptop from a desk and logged into the academic program to see if the students had handed in their essays on time. To my contentment, all of them had done so, and I started checking the first ones. The general subject was the fourth century BC, the century in which the Macedonian Empire had reached its largest expansion under the reign of Alexander the Great. Being an online teacher had kept me from boredom and this way I contributed to the community.
There in the light of a bureau lamp, a part of my mind picked a happy memory: a young girl was horseback riding, laughing happily as a woman led the horse. The girl's laughter filled the air. She wasn't scared, she trusted the sorrel with her life. The woman, her mother, smiled lovingly. They were out on the heath between the trees, the knee high violet plants bristled against the mother's brown horseback riding boots. Those boots suited her chocolate brown hair and warm brown eyes very well. All around butterflies were flying in the warmth of the sunlight. What was it about this memory that I was reminded of it now? I guessed it was the carefreeness. Nothing to worry about, no judgements or stress. Just plain happiness. It had been too long since I had experienced these feelings.
My focus returned to the essay. A mistake stood out. Alexander had defeated Darius III at Gaugamela, not at the Indus river. Later in the morning, I had completed the marking lists, and the results were satisfying. Mainly because minor mistakes had considerably decreased in comparison to the last essays.
A small alarm clock displayed the time, it was ten to eight. In 8 hours, 26 minutes and.. 41 seconds I was expected to meet Captain Christopher Pike, at the moment serving as a recruiting officer for Starfleet, on behalf of my application. Due to my age, it was not more than logical that closer research was obliged. On the other hand, I wasn't like any regular 13-year-old. But that aside, there was still enough to do before that would have to be on my mind. The lessons in which both the third and the second century had to be discussed and explained needed to be written, and the assignments as well; I only had come as far as the fall of Corinth, and no assignments had been made yet. But first things first.
Like every other living being I too needed glucose amongst other components to produce energy and stay healthy, so I took two slices of bread and ate them while I was making up the greater part of the assignments for the next subjects. This job of mine so to say bored me enormously, but this had been the best option for making a living without getting involved in too much trouble because of my age. Once again. And without standing out. The application to Starfleet Academy had been a risk, but it was one I was willing to take. I could wait no longer, not after having to live this solitary life for 4 years.
The remaining time I spent reading The Two Towers, by J.R.R. Tolkien (for the sixth time), and listening to early 21st century music. No particular band or singer covered the majority of my playlist, my interest was widespread from rock to classic to country. Only hard rock, metal and synthesizers didn't make it into my playlist, but further on you'd find anything, in any language. With still 55 minutes to spare, I went outside and locked the door of the apartment behind me. With earbuds plugged in, I walked down the stairs. Despite having to walk down eight stories I never opted for the elevator. My mother and I had long ago been inside one when the electricity suddenly had failed. The doors wouldn't open, and the walls had been made from thick iron plates so there was no way to escape. It had been pitch black inside. Luckily the electricity had come back after a few seconds, but the event had scared me to death. It had been a onetime situation, but nowadays stairs still had my preference.
I skidded down the staircase on the rhythm of the current song playing, El Mismo Sol by Alvaro Soler.
Te digo claro claro
no es nada raro raro
asi se puede amor
un mundo enano enono
estamos mano a mano
solo hace falta el amor
se puede amor
Outside the sun had warmed the air, a pleasant airstream met me when I opened the door downstairs. Since it was midsummer the colour green was present the most, combined with the blue of the sky.
Yo quiero que este sea el mundo que conteste
del este hasta oeste
y bajo el mismo sol
ahora nos vamos
sí juntos celebramos
aquí todos estamos bajo el mismo sol
y bajo el mismo sol
Softly I hummed with the music feeling rather tempted to sing, but the sane part of me was sharply aware of the couple walking down the street, so it remained with humming. 52 minutes and 19 songs later a huge white building came into sight.
*3rd person p.o.v.*
Captain Christopher Pike finished his final sentence on the remarks on the conversation he'd just had with a new recruit. Usually, he was very patient with new people, but this time he was very glad the conversion hadn't lasted more than 10 minutes. The guy must've had ADHD or something like that, his enthusiasm counted for ten. Chris looked at the next application. Selena Valdez, 13 years old. He looked again at the age, but it really said age: 13 years old. Right. As if being called there was a soft knock on the door. "Come in," he called. The door slid aside and a girl entered hesitantly. Her brown hair fell loosely over her shoulders, which made her blue eyes stand out brightly. She was human, but there was a solemn maturity about her that made her seem older despite her age. As she entered he stood and they both shook hands, hers small and slender compared to his.
"Captain Pike," he introduced himself.
"Selena Valdez," she replied with a small smile as a reply to the kindness that showed on his face. He motioned her to sit down as he settled himself on the chair. She followed his example and sat down nearly on the edge of the chair as if ready to run off if necessary.
"So, I suppose you have been informed as to why you are summoned here?"
"Unless I am mistaken there was something to be discussed concerning my application to Starfleet Academy, sir?" Her expression remained neutral like her voice, but not in an unkind way. Curious would be a better word.
"You're quite right, miss Valdez." He took said application in front of him. "To make a start, you imply to have finished high school within one year, is that correct?"
She nodded. "You are right, sir." There was not even a hint of pride visible on her face.
"And you have indicated to speak more languages than the certificate indicates, will you clarify that to me?"
The girl rested her hands on her lap. "Indeed I speak more languages, eight to be precise – I have studied Greek, Latin, Mandarin, Russian and Vulcan by myself, though I speak the latter that fluently," she explained without hesitation. Had it not been for her youthful appearance he might have forgotten he was speaking to a 13-year-old. That, of course, was what this whole conversation was the result of.
"Quite impressive. At Starfleet, we don't usually see results this high at your age. Most students apply around the age of 19."
She nodded in understanding. "I see."
"You know," he placed aside the padd and placed his elbows on the desk between them, "studying at Starfleet Academy isn't an easy feat, and especially because of your age contact with other students might be hard to make because they'll see you as a prodigy, and that doesn't usually gain friendship. They are going to be hard on you." He didn't like reminding her, but she had to be made aware of what her application might result in.
She nodded again. "I am aware of the consequences, and it is a risk which I'm willing to take. It will not be the first time for me to encounter problems. I am certain of my capabilities, I only need a chance to show them that my age isn't a disadvantage, for intelligence isn't necessarily age-bound. If only they will give me the chance, I will prove it." She sounded very serious, convinced of her case. He was silent for a moment.
"You remind me of another applicant, a Russian kid. He isn't much older, I suggest you go talk to him once. It might be supportive to either of you."
A smile reappeared on her face.
"I will, sir."
"Then hereby this application is accepted."
*Haileen's p.o.v.*
I woke up early, despite my attempts to sleep longer. It was about seven thirty when I got out of bed, not feeling as tired as I'd expected. I threw open the curtains and the window after that and enjoyed the fresh wind that blew through. It would warm up as the hours would pass, but right now it was still nice. The sun had risen one or two hours ago and was shining at the small backyards I was able to see from my bedroom. Our backyard, and those of the neighbours on either side. That on the left had been turned into a soccer field and young children would frequently play there, the one on the right was an explosion of flowers in all the colours of the rainbow. Rarely did I see someone outside there, only five times a year they went outside. With birthdays only, that is. Then the whole family would sit outside, and they'd retrieve a BBQ from the old shack in the back of the garden and put on music loud enough for the entire neighbourhood to be heard. Not that it was bad music, I quite liked it. Most of the time it'd be pop or country, or old-fashioned campfire songs which you sing when it's all dark outside and you're holding marshmallows on sticks above the flames. And there would be one person poking in the firewood with his or her stick with burnt pieces of marshmallow still clinging onto it, and there'd be girls swooning over some hot guy. And of course one or two pyromaniacs can't be left out; they'd try to set anything on fire. The cracking of the wood and a mixed smell of smoke and burnt marshmallow vaguely on the background.
At my request, Mel had allowed me to make a campfire myself in this very background, so I'd collected some dead branches from down the street and had placed them in a pyramid shape like in movies and books. Mel had bought us marshmallows, and after several failed attempts I'd managed to get the fire started with a bunch of matches. I was sure the wood wasn't meant to create a sudden burst of flames, but somehow it happened and I'd made it off with red fingers and a few blisters. It hadn't kept me from staying, though.
The rest of the evening Mel and I had sat around the warm fire, burnt some marshmallows to a black mass – they just won't stick to the stick! – and talked about Mel's work and boys. No, I wasn't crazy about boys, hello, I was 16 at that time! It had been mainly Melanie, telling me about a kind guy she'd met at work. I forgot to tell, but she'd broken up with Jared – her boyfriend when I'd arrived on earth – about a month after I'd met him (I so hate him). I'd had to suppress a sudden outburst of joy, mainly because I'd felt sorry for Mel I'd kept it in. She'd brought me the news in a steady, monotone voice, not once I'd heard her cry over the break-up. He was a bastard after all. Anyway, this new guy Max was an estate agent here in San Francisco, well-known for his kindness and humour. He'd been in the hospital for three weeks(still got no idea why he'd had to stay for that long, but I suspect it might have had something to do with the ability to talk with Mel all day). Fallen off a staircase, the poor lad. I'd met him recently, he had a dark skin, short jet black hair and surprisingly blue eyes. Mel had left the two of us alone in the living room to retrieve tea and coffee the first day I'd met him, all on purpose, mind you! The first thing he'd done (we had by the way already been introduced to each other) was asking me what Mel thought of him. It had surprised me, and I'd told him the truth, that Melanie honestly liked him. He'd let out a sigh of relief and told me he liked her very much but hadn't been sure if that feeling was mutual. I'd told him some small things about Mel, about her love for cooking and her favourite colour for instance (which is red). When Mel had returned after what had seemed like an eternity we'd talked throughout the rest of the evening. He'd told us about the time he'd accidentally switched house numbers in a message to a potential buyer of one of the houses he had to sell. He'd been waiting for three hours in the house, but nobody had shown up. It turned out that the potential buyer had gone to the house on the other side of the street, and had been kicked out by an angry old man with a walking stick, just like in a very old movie Up. Also, he'd told us his name, Max, was actually short for Maximus, but he found that too formal and all so he always introduced himself as Max.
Altogether it had been an enjoyable evening, of which more had followed throughout the years. Now, one year and a half later, it was widely known they were a couple, and everyone including me was just waiting for the engagement.
I turned away from the window and pulled some clothes out of the closet. Jeans and a T-shirt would do. After I'd changed I made myself breakfast (toasted bread with eggs and bacon) and decided to sit outside in the front yard. It was pleasantly warm, and I settled myself on the wooden bench next to the door. The hedge around the yard hid me from the passengers", sights, but only on the left side. I took a bite of the toast and watched the regular joggers, the not-so-regular joggers, dog-walkers and bikers that passed by every once in a while. I liked looking at people. Trying to figure out the story of their life. For example, when a woman in jumpsuit runs past, I try to think of where she's going or where she's been. Is she going home, or has she just left? Whom will she visit, what is her job, does she have a family? Does she earn a lot, what does she like to do at weekends?
I'll give you an example. A dark-haired, about thirty-year-old man is walking down the street. In his left hand he's holding a small phone, with his left he is carrying a black briefcase – a first-rate lawyer I'd say. His untied tie is loosely hanging around his neck, the buttons of his coat are undone. He's walking at a slow pace, though not idle. Let's say it's around 4 PM on a relatively cold summers day. I'd say he just came from work, but it's never really finished within his scheduled working hours. He probably lives nearby and has a family. He's walking home. If he'd be single he'd have come by car (hovercar, yes, flying objects everywhere!) or by taxi. I'm almost sure he hasn't decided to walk home that day because he felt like it or something, because he's talking on the phone with someone from work, I can tell that by his facial expression. A man of great status would have his secretary take over his phone calls during his walk. Though, it was doubtful whether he was or not because this wasn't exactly An-Enormous-Mansion-Estate or an Overly-Modern-And-Oh-So-Envied place. Anyway, his job might more-or-less have become his life.
This is what I liked doing. Hmpf, might as well call myself the 23rd-century female Sherlock Holmes. If you haven't watched an episode of Sherlock yet, I recommend it to you to do it once if you haven't got anything to do during class or something; you don't want to know how many Fanfictions have been made in the 21st century during and after the release of the seasons (it's a series).
Anyhow, with the now empty plate on my lap, I remained where I was for a long while enjoying the warmth of the sun on my skin. I still had some time left, Mel had insisted on taking me to the Academy but she'd only be home in the early afternoon. And in the meantime, I tried desperately not to think about the fact that I'd be leaving in a couple of hours.
