Cracks in the Aquarium, excerpt, continued

slipped on one of the pieces of flooring. Aiden was pushed backwards, and one of his legs went up as he fell into the glass lining. Sienna’s eyes widened as she jumped from her chair to tend to Aiden.

“I-I think I’m okay,” Aiden reassured Sienna. She sighed in relief and was about to turn back to her chair when her eyes caught something on Aiden’s sleeve.

A dark-wet spot. Sienna picked up Aiden’s damp arm, and that’s when she saw it. Aiden’s eyes followed her, and he moved away from the glass quickly. It was a crack, a small one no doubt, but a crack in the glass, and a bit of water was leaking out.

“Oh, damn it,” Aiden gritted his teeth. “We are going to get in so much trouble.” He shook his head.

“Let’s just get this over with,” sighed Sienna walking over to the door to go back and get a staff member to stop the leak. As Sienna twisted the door handle, she realized that it wasn’t budging. Thinking it was just stuck a little, she used her other hand to try and pry it open. Still no luck.

“It’s…it’s not opening,” Sienna said frustrated, moving the handle of the door back and forth. Moving Sienna to the side, Aiden tried to open the door. But it just would not open.

“Lets just stay calm” Sienna breathed carefully. “Let’s start pounding on the door, maybe someone can hear us.” Both kids knocked on the door, their knocks turning into pounding as time passed. No luck.

“That’s obviously not working,” stated Aiden as the water from the glass pooled onto the floor and around their feet. “Let’s just call the teacher. She gave us all her phone number in case of an emergency.” Sienna showed Aiden that her phone had no battery. Aiden looked at his phone. It was at 2%. Speeding, Aiden found the teacher’s number and called. It rang so many times that both teens lost hope their teacher would answer. Attempting to call again, the screen of the phone soon went black. The phone was dead.

“I guess we just wait until someone notices we’re gone, right?” asked Sienna. Aiden nodded. Going back to their seats to wait, both of them noticed the crack in the glass had gotten bigger; it was spreading. The intensity of the leak was stronger, and both pairs of shoes were now soaked. Aiden went over to the crack, picked up a roll of tape that was sitting on the floor and started taping the glass to try and make the water stop leaking. Sienna joined to try to help him. This seemed to make the water from leaking stop for a few seconds, but the cracks spread to the left of the glass. It was obvious that the tape had only made it worse. Aiden turned back to walk to his seat in defeat but stopped when he heard a loud thud and a piercing scream. Lying on the floor was Sienna, with a large cut below her skirt on her thigh. Blood was oozing out of her leg and was staining her hands as she covered it and cried out in pain. Next to her was a big piece of glass that had fallen. Water was pouring like a faucet onto her. Trying to comfort Sienna and stay calm, Aiden found some pieces of paper towel and wrapped it around her thigh.

“It’s okay, Sienna. You’re going to be alright,” comforted Aiden, as he tried to get her up on her feet. With tears streaming down her face, she tried to get up, but she just couldn’t.

eyes.

Misha J. ‘29

Everywhere I look, I see eyes. Glossy eyes, dry eyes, upturned, monolid, double lidded, you name it. As I walk through the dark rainy street, eyes stare at me. I try not to make direct eye contact with them. Nobody comes back after staring into one of those glass-like eyes that stare into and burn your soul. They say that if you make direct eye contact with an eye, the eye will eat away at your soul until you crumble to nothing. The last thing you will see is eyes. A dropping feeling enters my body. I slam against the ground as I look around me. I see the light above me fade away. Did I leave my stomach up there? An echoey voice flows around me: “Are you the next victim?” I see a silhouette of a person as they slump to the ground, the life ebbing out of them. Oh no! I look in front of me and am faced with a bloodshot eye. I’ve been seen. I spin in a circle to see that I’m surrounded by thousands of eyes. I realize that the abyss that I’m in will be my resting place. All the eyes are the previous victims, dying. I blink as I die, surrounded by the eyes.

(Lights up on BRUCKHEIM’s “Frankenstein-esque” laboratory. Upstage Left, there is a metal box with two large switches attached, from which tubes run to other devices in the lab. ALBERT-3 lies on a surgical table Stage Right, while BRUCKHEIM and FALSWORTH frantically set up an old video camera Stage Left. BRUCKHEIM backs up in front of the camera, and FALSWORTH puts his eye to the camera. FALSWORTH gestures toward BRUCKHEIM, cueing him to start. BRUCKHEIM clears his throat.)

BRUCKHEIM

(Grandiose) May the inventor of the wheel look upon this day from highest heaven and weep, for today he is finally outdone. This night shall be remembered from now until the end of time, because this is the day that I, Doctor Werner Bruckheim, have CONQUERED DEATH!

(Thunder crashes. BRUCKHEIM pauses for a moment, looking for praise from FALSWORTH. FALSWORTH gives him a polite thumbs-up and nods reassuringly. Satisfied, BRUCKHEIM resumes his passionate speech.)

BRUCKHEIM

I have taken this assemblage of measly wires and steel, once naught but scrap metal, and from it I have created the FIRST ARTIFICIAL LIFE! A perfect amalgam for the human form, untethered by any of its frailty. I look in the face of that grim mistress Death, and I scoff at her; for tonight, it is I who commands life as I command you now, my creation: rise. RISE, AND ASSUME YOUR DESTINY!

(BRUCKHEIM throws the first switch on the box Upstage Left, and the lights begin to flicker. An electrical hum begins. Then, BRUCKHEIM throws the second switch, and the flickering grows more intense and the hum gets louder. Electricity crackles, and the lab table shakes. BRUCKHEIM cackles madly. Finally, the flickering and the noises reach their peak intensity, and everything goes dark at once. Suddenly, a spotlight appears on the lab table. [If a spotlight is not available, fade the regular lights in.] After a beat, ALBERT-3 begins to sit up slowly and mechanically. Sitting straight up, he stops. BRUCKHEIM stands still, captivated.)

ALBERT-3

(Tired) Five more minutes.

(ALBERT-3 lies back down mechanically. BRUCKHEIM stays frozen in the same position, gaping. Pause.)

BRUCKHEIM

(shellshocked) ...What did he just say?

FALSWORTH

I believe he said, “Five more minutes,” as one might say when woken up prematurely and against their wishes, Sir.

BRUCKHEIM

I know what he said, you dolt. Why did he say it?

FALSWORTH

Perhaps because he was tired, sir.

BRUCKHEIM

BECAUSE HE WAS TIRED?!

ALBERT-3

Hey, Doc, d’you think you could, like, keep it down? I know it’s like, your house n’ all, but there’s still, like, other people here, y’know.

BRUCKHEIM

(Gritted teeth, contempt) The last I checked, dear Falsworth, robots are not in the habit of getting “tired.” Nor should they be wont to use contractions, I might add.

FALSWORTH

Forgive me if I’m wrong, Sir, but, you did just call your machine “a perfect amalgam for the human form”? Humans are in the habit of sleeping, unless I’m mistaken.

BRUCKHEIM

(Caught off-guard) Well... Fair enough, but... See, the thing is... (giving up) Um. Yes...I suppose you are correct. (To self) Naturally. Just because the machine is revolutionary does not mean it will wake up speaking in prose. No, it says nothing about the craftsmanship. Nothing at all.