The beauty of another world

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic
An alien comes to Earth and names it as "perfection". But soon he realizes that he is wrong. Earth hides something cruel and dangerous. Earth is beautiful, but what makes it imperfect? This is a story which will compel you to care more about the Earth. :)

Submitted: April 15, 2013

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Submitted: April 15, 2013

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BEAUTY – HOW FAR IS IT FROM MY EYES? Not so far, I guess. I see it. I see this immense beauty in front of my eyes. Somewhere close, spinning around the sun, dancing with the other planets in its unique, fearless way, is the greenest perfection in the universe – the Earth. I see colors, lots of colors – harbingers of life. It was my first trip to the Earth, but in my 3825 years I have landed on many planets. Neither of them is as alive nor colorful as the Earth. And now, I come to this exciting, breath taking moment when I meet the pulchritude face to face.

I’m fazed. This inscrutable, obscure panorama makes me feel afraid, but so honored for what I could possibly experience there. I had envisaged this uniqueness for so long, but could never imagine it been that beautiful.  Even in my most admiring, uncontrolled imagination, the Earth was absurdly ordinary to be a unique perfection. Or maybe it is not perfect at all. My father has always told me: “When you go there, to the Earth, don’t trust your eyes, they will be deceptive. Things there look perfectly flawless, but deep inside they hide something bad and disappointing. There is no perfection, but certainly, there are beautiful things, things that merit more than just flawlessness. And remember, you do not have to search for them, they will come to you.” I still remember his words. But I have never understood them, and that inspired me to come here. I live in a perfect world where no flaw can be seen. But, I love my life and I love perfection. I now see things here are much more beautiful than those on my planet, but I cannot understand what is so imperfect about them.

I’m not sure where I have landed. However, this place is beautiful. It is still dark and cold for me, but it smells sweet, and I like it. I don’t know exactly how they, the humans, call this period of the season. I think it is called “spring” – a token of freshness. Standing tired and waiting for the day to appear, the mysterious side of the sky-line seduces me inquisitively, making me unable to take my eyes off of the limitless spectacle. The luminous moon slowly, imperceptibly disappears from sight, as it wants to tell us poignantly that it is time for the sun to reign over the day. The sun is rising up and the birds are dancing their first morning dance, singing calm songs. There is something magical, something unforgettable about this view. The red sunrise shading with the endless, blue sky arouses the morning life. The sun is rising higher and higher into the sky, watching everything from there like a king watching his country.

All of a sudden people start walking all over. The noises of the cars are becoming angrier. The fresh, sweet smell of nature cannot be felt anymore. And yet, the smoke dominates in the dirty air. I try to hide. I don’t want to be seen. Yet, I don’t want to scare anyone. I guess I will just observe from aside. I see kids going to school, eating their ice creams in a carefree manner and throwing the waste on the street without feeling guilty. Who teaches them to do so? If the people were aware of the beauty they have so closely to them, they wouldn’t behave so coldly and irresponsibly. Next to the school is a big neat garden full of various flowers. Students pounce and step on them. How cruel. I can’t stand watching this disaster happening in front of my eyes. I have to help the nature.

“They are organisms, you are killing them. Don’t do it. Leave them adorn your world” – I say politely. But no one replies. I wait for a minute and then I ask again – “Do you hear me? Why don’t you take care of the nature instead of damaging it?” – I shout, thinking that my voice is not strong enough to be heard. And again, no reply. I feel like I’m just wasting my time. I touch the kids and it seems like they cannot feel the touch either. I’m walking on the street and no one is looking at me. I’m too different not to be seen. And I think I understand why. People cannot see me, hear me or feel my touch. I feel like I don’t exist for them, like I’m not even here at all.

Is there a place which can relieve my uneasiness? I want to observe the alacrity and the mysteriousness of Earth’s beauty beneath the infinite sky. Such picturesqueness is rarely found. I depart from the city with bewilderment about how people treat the nature. I move freely, without a direction, not caring where I will end up. Walking on the winding paths, I scrutinize the nature. This place is high. The air is colder and cleaner. There are no roads, only small paths ivied with rocks and sand. On the right side, high cliffs hamper the sunbeams of reaching the paths in the hottest hours, making perfect shade for calming and relaxing walks. On the left side, various flowers lie on an abrupt slope pearled with morning dew. Unawares, a beautiful green panorama freezes my glance. The meadow is environed by hillocks. The view is remedy for the soul. A few big trees make shades for the shepherds to take a rest while their sheep graze. One butterfly stands on each flower and the bees work continuously to make their honey. The songs coming from the gleeful birds calm you down no matter how stressed you have been. Everyone can feel the positive energy of their songs as they want to tell the world that one day everything is going to be all right. I just cannot withstand this beauty; it makes me want more of it. As I go closer, I feel the disgusting smell getting acrider. Big foul hill made of rubbish obliterates the glorious view. This is a blot on the landscape. People don’t know how to treat the cradle of their tranquility. Nothing is more grotesque than an endless beauty comprehended by none.

I leave the place and keep moving lackadaisically and in despair. A babbling of a river gains my ears. It sounds so peculiarly. It seduces me to follow that calming burble. I draw near the river and see my face in the clear water like in the mirror. The water is so transparent that every single stone at the bottom can be seen, regardless of the deepness of the river. I follow the flow of the river, trying to make some funny dance moves. After all, no one can see me, right? I leave the hillock descending into the valley where the river forms a pond. On this cool, shiny day the water is pearled with crystals from the sharp sunbeams. I want to jump into the water, but I’m not sure what will happen to me. There is no water on my planet but I have studied about that. That’s why it attracts me curiously and I cannot resist it. I dive into the water hopping it won’t hurt me.But it doesn’t. On the contrary, I feel really good. But it is cold and my skin may start rotting. I must warm myself. The valley has grassy carpet decorated with small white flowers. How beautiful. I feel happy, happier than I have ever been. I lie down on the grass watching the birds flying beneath the sun. It is the perfect place for me. If I can stay on Earth, this place will be my home. Not being able to maintain my happiness I start rolling on the grass, not expecting something inconvenient to obscure my view. But, as always, where people put their hands, cruelness and carelessness can be seen.  Big cranes, set next to the lake, make new buildings. New industrial area is being built. And I was wondering why people don’t care about the nature? They care only about their profits. People need money for good life and they can’t realize that their life depends on the nature. The lust for wealth hides their humanity and their conscience. They destroy the nature carelessly, not knowing that one day the nature will destroy them.  I came here, on the Earth, to find beautiful things which make me happy. But I can’t be happy when those beautiful things are not respected. I don’t know what is sadder; people’s unawareness or the disappearing beauty. I feel the anger taking control of my body. I can’t be angry, neither sad; it is killing me slowly.

I’m losing hope. I realize now my father was right. Perfection can’t be found here. And the worst part is – I was expecting to see it. I have to go home. I don’t want to stay here anymore. I don’t know how to help the nature and it makes me feel useless. Turning backwards, for the last time to see the Earth, I say goodbye. Instantly, I change my mind. I can stay for a few more minutes, can’t I? Behind the dense forest, something pleasant is hiding and I must see it. As I go closer, a surge of freshness hits me. I hear sounds again. I have heard them before, I’m sure. It must be the river. Awaken from the misery I have been in for so long, I strike out to see the river again hopping it will fill my heart with satisfaction. Words fail me for a moment. The sight resembles a miraculous garden. High and fast waterfall adorns my view. Various stones, dispersed around the river in a manner in which only the nature is capable of, attract my attention. In the middle of the river, under the waterfall, a small, perfectly shaped island, with a single tree on it, separates the flow of the river. On both sides of the waterfall, irregular, uneven cliffs appear. Their shape hides something powerful, something artistic. The nature has put its own paintings on them. The creativity of nature is infinite. I climb up the cliffs. My inquisitiveness doesn’t let me miss seeing the rest of this beauty. Five rills make the waterfall. They are so small, but so powerful combined together. All kind of insects and animals have found a home here. I move with fear thinking that something disgusting will appear in front of my eyes again. But it doesn’t.  People don’t know this place. They haven’t seen it and they haven’t had a chance of bringing it to grief. That’s why this place is perfect. I remember what my father told me: “There is no perfection”. And now, I think I understand why. Nature is perfect. The only imperfect things on Earth are people. They are careless. They are cruel. And no one and nothing can chance them, unless they do. But I won’t lose hope. I will try to make them aware of what they have around them. I’m sure I will deliver my message, regardless of the fact they cannot hear me nor see me. BEAUTY – IT IS NOT FAR FROM MY EYES, BUT HOW FAR IS IT FROM PEOPLE’S EYES?


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