Olivia Clifford: Week 1 Response

To the Battlestar Galactica

It was just another day.

At least, that’s what I thought when I woke up that morning.

I was making my way to the PATH, hoping I could get a seat

But knowing I probably would have to stand.

I was starting to doze off

With my head against the window, when the train stopped.

The usual groans of annoyance filled the air,

Just like me, these passengers were going to be late to work.

A few minutes later, the train started again, this time, in reverse.

“What’s going on?” yelled one man, who was already turning red with anger.

We returned back to Harrison Station and it wasn’t until we got off the train that we realized what was going on.

There was an attack.

Gasps. Whispers. Silence.

It was the Cylons.

For decades, they seemed to have disappeared, no longer caring about our small lives here on Earth.

For decades, we had thought they were gone for good.

It turned out, that

for decades,

we were wrong.

I walked onto the sidewalk, welcomed by the chaos that was already commencing.

One man stood on a soapbox, attempting to save the souls of those running by, knowing they only had minutes to live.

A woman pushed the screen of her phone frantically, only to realize it wasn’t going to call her husband.

A crowd had already formed around Red Bulls Arena, where rumors spread that a rescue ship was picking people.

When I saw the ship landing, I realized it was true.

I took that chance and ran as fast as I could.

There had to be a way out.

When it landed, the soldiers took the children first.

There was only space for a few more.

Each person received a paper with a number jotted across it.

I held mine, knowing my life depending on it.

Those who weren’t lucky enough to get a piece of paper sat in terrible silence, tears rolling down their cheeks.

“63.”

Not mine.

“57.”

Not mine.

“31.”
Not mine.

I lost.

I looked up and saw a man take an elderly woman’s paper.

“I have 31!”

He climbed aboard the ship, not a single person realizing what he had just done,

And I just sat there in, quiet as a church mouse.

What could I do?

He won. I lost.