350 by Daniella Mints

350 people.

That’s all who could survive, according to the US government. They had created a ship, designed to
take the survivors to space, to a far away galaxy that was found to be able to sustain life.

Everyone else would perish with the dying sun as it grows hotter and hotter, simply burning alive in the
end.

Riots filled the streets, bottles being thrown, high tech tear gas being sprayed from both sides. The
United States was no longer united. Political meetings took place in locked rooms, whispers grew into
screams as politicians began to talk to press.  Crime ran rampant. Burglaries were commonplace,
and murder became uncomfortably normal. I myself, simply hid in my home, ignoring the holograms
that my mother sent me.

“Liza, darling, you need to come outside. Lord knows how many days we have left!” she cried in many
messages.

Why would you need to come outside if everything was ending anyway. It was too hot outside already.
With the technological advancements in air conditioners, inside was comfortable. 

A hologram alert rings out, high pitched and whiny.

I assume it is my mother, and instead of answering, I flop on my floating bed, curling into a single
pillow.

“Ms. Liza Hylt. The United States government would like to congratulate you.” The hologram began,
taking the appearance of a politicians assistant. I knew the voice was a robot, as no real people
worked for politicians any longer, but the excitement in it’s voice was palatable. 

“ You have been chosen to survive. A hologram instant message will reach you in a few moments,
explaining why you were chosen. Good day now.”

The hologram blinks off, and another appears. The instant message.

Ms.Liza Hylt,

Meeting place: Tyrlant St, West Park, August 3rd

Meeting time: 10:30.

The ship will not wait. If late, a backup Person of Interest will take your place.

Pack exactly two (2) suitcases. Modern technology is forbidden.

Reason of acceptance:  Person of Interest has significant education in plant study. Person of Interest is
accepted for reasons of survival of group,

That was all it said.

------

3 weeks later, I stood with a group of 350 survivals, about to board the Human Race. The scientists
had aptly named it. All of us seemed to be in shock.

When I notified my mother, she had screamed with joy, then enveloped into tears. We had spent my
last day of Earth in an ice cream shoppe, eating vanilla ice cream and remembering better times.
Times where we did not have to worry about imminent death. I have her a tearful hug, and we parted
for the final time.

Soldiers stood on either sides of me, faces blank. Half of me wondered what they were thinking,
escorting the Earth’s survivors as they faced death, but the other half didn’t want to know. 

So instead, I simply hugged my suitcases closer to my body, ignoring the tear streaks that ran down
my cheeks as we were ushered into the ship. It was beautiful on the inside, all sleek and big, with
enough entertainment to last months, but all I could think of was a single thought.

Why was I chosen? I don’t know a thing about plants