"Humans" by Jasmine Bedi — Our June 2020 Bronze Medal Winner

Jasmine is our third place winner from the contest posted in our June 2020 issue!

What the judges had to say:

I liked the use of italicized comments as a narrative thread through the story. The author showed a strong sense of each character and their voices
Great surprise factor and creativity went into this take on the image, giving readers a taste of an entirely different perspective and world. Characters were fresh, fun, and unexpected right to the fantastic, cliff-hanger ending.
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Meet Jasmine

Jasmine is a recent graduate from the Schulich School of Business at York University. She is an aspiring CPA and enjoys writing in her free time. Apart from accounting and writing, she loves to travel and explore new places, and stay up to date on the newest Netflix series.

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Humans

the unedited story by Jasmine Bedi

“Mari! Are you coming or not?” My younger brother, Blade shouted from the top of the boulder. His bright red raincoat contrasted against the ashy colour of the rock. He looked like a ladybug.

Although the rain had stopped, storm clouds loomed in the sky. I tightened my orange raincoat, as the frigid wind went through my jacket. Pieces of leaves lay scattered on the ground, dirtied with mud.

When Blade told me he had an adventure planned, I expected something more mundane and normal. And yet, here he was, climbing this massive piece of rock. I could forgive his actions, but what worried me was the possibility that another hiker would travel along this path and see us.

Humans did not scale a boulder without protective gear. Humans could not put dents into rocks with the force of their hands. Blade seemed completely oblivious, that his simple act of rock-climbing could possibly oust our family.

“Blade, you have to get down!”

I stared at my sibling, watching as he would jump from one spot to the next. His movements were precise, gripping onto various fragments with a swift extension of his arms.

Humans did not move rapidly or elegantly.

“Why? I’m going to the top.”

I could already imagine my parents’ nervous faces, how disappointed they would be, if our secret was exposed. What city would we flee to next? Planet Earth had only so many countries before we would run out of places.

My family landed on this Planet, five years ago, in human terms. I always found it silly how humans portrayed space and extraterrestrials in their movies. We did not have blue skin, large eyes, or antennas. We looked exactly like the inhabitants of Earth.

Our job required us to conduct surveillance and research. Every few months, we changed locations, to ensure people did not grow suspicious of us. We recently moved to this city, two weeks ago. The thought of having to start-over so quickly, annoyed me.

I spotted a pair of rocks on the floor and reached for them. Winding up my arm, I felt like a professional pitcher, as I hurled it at Blade’s leg.

Humans did not throw that fast.

He buckled, losing his footing. Bits of rock dust came flying down.

“Mari, stop!”

I didn’t. I flung the second rock at his other leg. Again, he lost the grip of his foot.

“If you don’t come down, I won’t stop.”

Attacking my brother with rocks wasn’t ideal – he would definitely wake up tomorrow with bruises. But I felt no remorse. As his babysitter, I had to ensure both of our safeties.

Deciding enough was enough, I moved closer to the boulder. Droplets of water touched my palms. I dipped my head, taking a look at my combat boots. I should not have worn the ones with the heels. But nothing I could change now.

Taking a deep breath, I started climbing.

My attention remained firmly on my brother. Neither of us were skilled mountaineers. But we didn’t have to be. Our enhanced strength, agility, and speed ensured that we did not plummet to our deaths.

The wind whipped my hair onto my face. I steadied my feet into a nook, stretching my body upwards.

Blade already reached the top, disappearing from my sight. A sharp fragment grazed my hand, drawing blood. My teeth gritted together, and I wiped the liquid against my coat.

Humans did not bleed green.

Reaching the summit, I pulled myself up.

A small gasp escaped my lips. Blade stood beside me, grinning from ear-to-ear. A part of me wanted to yell at him, but without his recklessness, I would not have experienced a view like this.

At this height, the storm clouds had lessened, allowing us to see an endless horizon. A wispy fog hung around the area.

It almost seemed that if I reached high enough, I could touch the clouds. In the far distance, the roofs of small houses could be seen, including our own.

The area we lived in had a large river running through it. Seeing it now, it spanned a greater length than I could have imagined.

“It’s pretty cool, isn’t it?”

I slowly nodded, “Yes but you need to be more careful. You’re forgetting what humans can and cannot do.”

Blade frowned, his eyebrows furrowing together, “I know. Sometimes, I miss home. At least we never had to hide ourselves.”

I put my arm around my brother’s shoulders and squeezed, “We’ll go home soon.” Leaving our home planet had been the toughest on Blade. As the youngest of the family, he struggled to process our duty.

But at least our current home was decent. Of all the galaxies and planets I visited, Earth definitely had the best views. I would keep this in mind when my species decided what planet to conquer next.

“C’mon, we have to head back before Mother and Father get home.”

Before I could say anything else, Blade threw himself off the top. I huffed, crossing my arms. The boy would never learn.

Humans did not jump from large heights and survive.

But I ignored my own training and mimicked his freefall.



Alanna Rusnak

With over eighteen years of design experience, powerful understanding of publishing technology, a passionate love for stories, and a desire to make dreams come true, Alanna Rusnak is your advocate, mentor, friend, cheerleader, and the owner/operator of Chicken House Press.

https://www.chickenhousepress.ca/
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"Stone Flowers" by Larry Baer — Our June 2020 Silver Medal Winner

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"Floccinaucinihilipilification" by Cheryl Skory Suma — Our March 2020 Gold Medal Winner