It was here that the Earth divided. Where craters were stricken by rainfall, except, it was not water that hit the dying rock, but comets. Brilliant lights—things, men could not comprehend. Could do nothing but watch, in their sneakers on wooden patios, as vengeful waves from the universe washed away, all the dirt they’d brought into these sacred lands.

A little girl cried. Shouted, “Mama!” And her Mama pointed to the sky.

Said, “Look, sweetie. It'll be all right.”

Birds fleeing utility poles called out in response—raw, cawing that echoed throughout the empty streets. Father was gone, he would never return. Left two cans of dead beans in the kitchen, to roll across a now slanted floor.

It would not be all right. They would not be saved. Because the end was here, and death had its claws wrapped around a small, angry, spinning globe.

Campgrounds shook. And there was fire in the trees, until wind blew across sunflower fields. The flames disappeared. Took all it could with them. Sweltering sparks from fumes dyed clouds grey. Black. We cried. Dogs wept. Cats could not care less; that is, before the earthquakes returned.

A bad rollercoaster. A nightmare. It had many names. A bastard! A murderer!—all the rage-filled ones would shout til’ they lost one lung. A finger. And all the sorrow-filled souls would mourn, press their hands together, as they prayed for a morning, that did not come.

We closed our eyes, said that we had been good people. Good humans. Told each other, that in the end, it would not be we, who would be saved, but something bigger, than ourselves.

Ten of us flew; out in spaceships. Most of us held a lover, or a pet. No friends—every friend was with another. Kissing strangers. Stabbing bones. Stealing money. Throwing stones.

It was here that the Earth divided, ten nights ago.

I watch from an oculus, inside the rocket, as my dear planet is stripped of its colors. She slowly turns, around, around. Until she is a spot amongst many, something else, to be forgotten.

And like her, I turn. I turn to the beds. Wonder, when they will notice me. Astronauts still asleep. Unaware of my presence.

Number eleven.

Runaway girl.

Author's note: Thank you so much for reading Polaris! This novel is also a comic that's currently participating in a contest, if you liked what you read and would like to vote for this story, please check out the link in the description below - thank you and have an awesome day! <3