a personal narrative for my english class

There were many ways to describe the stars. To me, I believe that the fact that so many beings as insignificant as us are caught up in this cosmic latte has to be the most beautiful realization, one where words couldn’t explain.

Crickets chirped as a gust of wind swayed the branches of the trees, I could hear the sound of each leaf coming into contact with one another. Splayed on the grass, I gazed upon the flickering polka dots that scattered across the sky. A cold breeze washed over my face, but so did the radiance of the moon. 

Whenever the fury of the sun was too much, I’d always look up at the stars for guidance. They aligned in patterns that illustrated pictures, figures of Greek mythology, to be precise. 

I never knew what they were trying to tell me. But that’s the thing about the language of space. It was ominous and complex. Even if I never got to decipher whatever the celestial spider web of constellations and stars were trying to tell me, it made me feel less lonely that there’s millions of interstellar passengers that peer down on organic beings.

My eyes flickered up to a particular pattern. 

Orion.

The figure had always presented itself as valiant. And Orion was beyond that. Prideful and albeit impulsive, his arrogance led him to perish by a giant scorpion. 

As above, so below.

Abruptly, I hear something sliding before an unpleasant screech reaches my ears. I tilt my head near my chest to see my father standing next to the sliding door. His face concurred with my cringing expression at the sound, before lifting his head to meet my eyes. “Arianne, you’re going to get sick if you stay out here any longer,” He paused. “And I’m not looking forward to having your mother erupt in front of me again.” 

“Oh please,” I giggled, rolling my eyes. “You can handle it. Why don’t you join me? I’m letting my eyes adjust to the darkness so I can see better.”

His confirmation was absolute when I saw him stretch his arms up in response. That was always a sign he’d be ready to spend time with me. I grinned as I watched him lie on the grass next to me, arms behind his head as he casually drifted his eyes to the stars. Adjusting my position, I shifted to lay my head on his stomach. 

“You know, we’re going to see Atlas on September 19th.”

“Yeah, I wonder if it’s an NTI hidden by the government because that’s what they always do.” I responded. It would be moments like these, under a starry night sky, that the conspiracy theories would spill from his mouth. Entertaining him, we’d talk about it until our heads turned into goop. Until my mother would get irritated at the constant muttering and theorizing that she would teasingly threaten us to send us to a psych ward. 

If not for the interstellar object, I’d have conspiracy theories of my own that would lead the conversation. My father would struggle to keep up, but we’d be in sync nonetheless.

“I wouldn’t be scared if an alien was confirmed to be visiting our Earth,” he continued, “They’ve done it multiple times already.”

I sat up, paranoia striking me already. “But why aren’t you more concerned about this?” I asked, twiddling my fingers together. A rush of possible conclusions invaded my head that very moment. “What if they’re only observing our Earth so they can destroy our universe?”

“Or maybe you just need to stop watching Transformers.” He rebutted, flicking my forehead playfully.

“Ow-- but seriously!”

“Alright, fine.” He chuckled, rubbing my head. “The alien civilization is already so advanced. If they wanted to harm us, they would’ve done it like thousands, maybe even millions of times they’ve come to visit our Earth.”

My paranoid expression subsided, and I nodded along with him. 

“Besides, aliens think the same about the space probes we send to space. Aren’t our little satellites considered NTIs and UFOs in their world?” He made a few noises with his mouth to imitate a woosh effect. “We’re simply here to observe and study. We mean nothing personal. And… we come in peace.”

A wave of relief washed over me. It grew quiet after that, and then I started to think.

Thinking about how silly it all is. 

Humanity is so tense about their survival, holding it close like a sacred gem. Just for it to be thrown away because of an awfully green colored paper. We point at UFOs and NTIs as these evil beings that will some day come to take control over our world. But that’s the thing--we’re so quick to blame others but ourselves.

“Ironic as it is, we call ourselves kings because we are proud of slowly turning our world into a dystopia.” I blurted out. My father’s gaze flickered curiously to mine, a cue to keep going. “We shouldn’t be afraid of other intelligent beings if we use our own to eradicate our own kind.”

“The angriest dog is worse than the angriest human,” he added. “So there’s really no way people can compare themselves to a dog. They’re too innocent for our antics.”

I felt a sting on my shoulder, slightly jumping from where my dad had pinched me. “But don’t be so cynical. Superiority doesn’t exist, we’re all exhibiting the same behaviors and fate.”

“None of us live in a triangle, since we’re all bound to a circle,” He took a deep breath. “Symbiosis over hierarchy.”