Stranded+Till+Freedom

Stranded till freedom By Breanna W. Zaria looked up as the lonely hand on the clock struck one. She had heard that in other places clocks had more hands, 2, 3, maybe even 4! How stressful that must be, to live with every moment of your life measured out. It was easy to understand why her great-grand-parents had made the decision to stay on this beautiful island. One more night, that was all that was left. Tomorrow would be the 100th anniversary of the island's civilization. She began the short jaunt to her house and listened to the crunch of each footstep on the pebbled path under her feet. It was quiet here and time seemed to move slowly. She simled, this thought had reminded her of one of her favorite books. She thought of the bustling town and the energy that it would buzz with tomorrow. This would be her 12th time hearing the story of how her world had came to be. It was told on the same day every year, yet she was as excited as ever.

A ray of sunlight slipped through Zaria's bedroom window and appeared to dance across her face until it found her closed eyes. There it stayed until they opened. It took a moment for the cool morning air to bring her to consciousness and she smiled as she remembered what day it was. Before the sun had moved to far, she was outside with her family. They began down the narrow meandering pathway, stopping now and then to chat with neighbors or admire a flower. Her little brother and sister chattled enthusiastically about what they remembered about the story, stopping to argue when they disagreed on a detail.

It wasn't long until they reached the town square. Zaria glanced at the sundial in the middle as her little brother and sister giggled in excitement in seeing the podium set up on the main stage. They knew it wouldn’t be long until Gleron, the town story teller, would begin to speak. The town began to fill with a steady stream of people and as soon as the giant sundial was covered by the many people standing on it Gleron began to speak. His low, brittle yet wispy voice echoed through the town with unexpected strength and it was suddenly silent.

"One foggy day one hundred years ago, one hundred drastically different people set off to Sydney, Australia on a seventeen hour flight from LA, California. You see, there is only one airport in the US that goes non-stop to Sydney which caused there to be people from a great number of places going to Sydney for many different reasons. It is this great diversity between passengers that enabled them to succeed. The plane was about half way to Sydney when it encountered an unexpected storm and soon was left of course with no radio, no way to call for help, and no way to figure out which way to go. The plane went down and miraculously no one was injured. The passengers piled into the one lifeboat that had survived the landing and waited, dreading what was to come.”  “After the sun had fallen they waited still, looking for something, anything too disrupt their endless, glistening view of water in the moonlight. All night they sat in vain for all they saw was millions and millions of miles of reflections. It wasn't until the sun first peeked up from its other home under the horizon that they saw something in the distance. They immediately began paddling towards it, hoping to find civilization. Yet when they reached the small island, the quickly found that it was uninhabited. A tall pole was placed in the ground with 365 notches measure the first year. After a minimal number of casualties, survival instinct set in and the people realized that they would have to work together to make it.” “They managed as best as they could and by the time the sun had risen 365 times, had learned to give up their outward success oriented mindsets and worked together. They had become a civilized community which understood that each individual’s survival depended on the survival of their neighbors. They held a meeting and constructed the government and social customs we continue to follow today. They elected their first leader, Eric, who set about making a giant sundial around the place where the original time pole had been placed. Each year what was left of the pole would be replaced and its remains would be placed around the sundial. After ten stubs had been placed around the sundial, an unexpected rescue came. However, our ancestors had already adapted to a way of life they didn’t want to leave. Today we witness the 99 stubs around the sundial which represent the 99 years we have lived on this island and the one notch left in the middle which will soon be cut through creating the 100th stub.” Zaria cheered with everyone else as Gleron concluded and got in line to cut her notch. As she stood there waiting it dawned upon her how lucky she was to live a life not having to worry about outward success or things measured by numbers. While to many her way of life may seem primitive, she was perfectly content and stress free. This was her utopia.  