Dreamer (2023)
Jonsey’s heart was beating furiously. No time to be scared, she thought to herself. For this, she had to be angry. Angry at the ground people for shattering all the peace and making her scared. Angry at the ground people for making her hide in a corner.
BY ARIESHA MAIS
IMAGE BY CHESLEY DAVIS
When the ground people came, Daya and Jonsey hid behind the crisp white couch their mother had told them not to touch. The sound of angry people doing angry things pierced through the tall ivory walls of their home. The two girls sat silently in their pajamas, not knowing what to do, and not daring to peek up and look through the living room window. Being eleven and thirteen, they were old enough to be left home alone without a nanny. Though now, hiding behind the couch, they were beginning to regret convincing their parents of their independence. It was still only morning, and Mother and Father had just left for work, so Daya and Jonsey sat alone.
They heard screaming outside, glass breaking, and heavy things falling. Over time, all the sounds became one, and the girls’ ears began ringing. Their muscles felt numb from sitting for so long. How long had it been? An hour, a few? Time had become mangled in the corner behind the couch.
“What’s taking the guards so long?” asked Jonsey, tears pooling in her eyes. Her short curly hair was sticking up in every direction. Daya would always tease her about her horrendous bedhead in the morning, but today, Daya hadn’t said a word about it.
“I don’t know, just shhh,” said Daya. She felt like a pathetic big sister.
“I’m hungry.”
“Me too.”
Jonsey stared at Daya, who was trying to hide her tears. She was chewing at her lip and rubbing her eyes every few moments. Jonsey felt like she was about to burst. Her insides were burning with frustration. She stared down at her hands as she pinched her fingers. She hated sitting still, and she hated feeling scared. She knew she hated it more than Daya did, who was now taking slow breaths with her eyes closed. Jonsey wanted to do something. She tried calling Father from her watch, but he wouldn’t pick up. Mother wouldn’t pick up either. What if the ground people had taken over the entire platform this time? She pictured grimy hands grabbing at Father as he cowered behind a desk at work. She imagined Mother shrieking as the ground people raided her boutique. The family house would be far too empty without Mother and Father.
After thinking about all the terrible things that could be happening, Jonsey knew she didn’t have any more time to be useless. She started making a plan. This wasn’t the first time the ground people had come. The first time, just a few of them came and they were gone quickly. That day, she was walking through the city square with Father on the way to the ice cream shop. About ten of them ran in and began smashing store windows, stealing things, and yelling in a language that she had never heard before. Their voices were loud and harsh. People began running out of the square in every direction and crowding into alleys to hide. Jonsey cried and covered her ears as Father scooped her up and ran to a nearby alley. They watched from the corner as the guards arrived and, in under a minute, the ground people were gone. She was nine then, and as Father held her, he shushed her and told her not to worry.
“They’re just useless and greedy,” Father had told her with a shaky voice. “They’re savage and angry, but the guards protect us, okay?”
Since then, the ground people returned to the platforms every few months. Last time, she was at school, and she watched through the window and observed what the guards did to make them go away. She watched in a trance, wondering why the ground people kept coming to die.
“Damn pests got through the bubble,” her teacher had muttered before he lowered the shield over the window and ushered the class to the farthest corner.
Jonsey didn’t want to hide in the corner anymore. She tapped Daya on the shoulder and whispered in her ear. “Stay here,” she said.
Daya’s eyes widened as she grabbed her little sister’s shirt. “Jonsey stop. Stop. Stop. Stop. Please don’t, please don’t,” she whispered back.
The baby blue cotton slipped from Daya’s grasp as Jonsey stood up and ran out of the room too quickly to look back and think. Jonsey was out of sight, and Daya sat alone.
Jonsey’s heart was beating furiously. No time to be scared, she thought to herself. For this, she had to be angry. Angry at the ground people for shattering all the peace and making her scared. Angry at the ground people for making her hide in a corner.
Jonsey ran to Father’s office and rushed to the lock. She twisted in the code the way she watched Father do many times before. She was both startled and relieved to hear the metallic click as it popped open. The door of the safe was heavier than she expected, but she was able to slip her arm in and grab what she came for. It felt cold and dense and awkward in her hands, but it was just what she needed. She took a quick deep breath and ran out of the office, the door of the safe still ajar.
Trembling, Daya forced herself to stand. She felt dizzy but stood rigidly and started to walk. “Stupid, stupid, stupid,” she muttered through gritted teeth. Daya let the tears fall. Her ears were ringing from the loud noises outside. Every crash made her jump. She had only made it to the hallway when she froze. She watched as her sister dashed past her, headed towards the door. “Jonsey, no!” she screamed.
The words had jumped out of her frozen body. She reached out to grab her, but Jonsey was already running outside in her fuzzy blue socks.
Outside, the summer sun was burning and the air was full of smoke. Mr. Raymond’s car was on fire in the middle of the road. Jonsey crawled into the flower bushes in front of her house and watched the ground people making a mess of her block. Her neighbours were screaming, and the ground people screamed back, running in and out of houses with hands full of stolen things, hollering in their harsh language. Her heart beating even faster, Jonsey puffed her chest out like she had seen the guards do as she narrowed her eyes and searched. If she could get at least one of them, she’d be useful. She crouched and listened until she heard quick footsteps approaching. She peeked through the leaves and saw dirty shoes and pants with ugly holes. A target. Jonsey sprang up.
Daya jumped at the sound of gunshots outside. She covered her mouth and stared at the door, feeling even more tears roll down her cheeks.
Blood was pooling on the synthetic grass. Jonsey felt the warmth seep into her socks. She felt it dripping down her face. She looked down. At her feet, there was a body no longer moving. Jonsey looked at the girl’s eyes. They were wide the way Daya’s were. Her face looked like one she could see at school, like a classmate walking past her in the hall. The ground girl looked scared, not savage or angry. Why didn’t she look savage and angry?
The street went silent, and Jonsey stood alone.
Ariesha Mais is a writer and poet based in Toronto, Ontario. She is a student pursuing a Bachelor of Creative and Professional Writing at Humber College.
Image: Dreamer (Chesley Davis, 2023)
Edited for publication by Paula Telizyn as part of the Creative Book Publishing program.
HLR Spotlight is a collaboration between the Faculty of Media & Creative Arts and the Faculty of Liberal Arts & Sciences and Innovative Learning at Humber College in Toronto, Ontario. This project is funded by Humber’s Office of Research & Innovation and the Faculty of Media & Creative Arts.