Today was no different than the rest, or at least right now, it wasn't. The sun was out, but the sky was gray, which isn't out of the ordinary, and currently, I'm sitting inside my house watching the hologram of today's news. My mother is in the other room making sure our faulty AI robot isn't making a mess while cooking… which it usually does. My mother is a widow who doesn't work or anything because AI replaced her job, so you could say we're broke. We live in a small house, just big enough for me and Mom. We survive off the small amount of money my grandparents send us each week. My father passed when I was young, so it's just been me and mom since. I now focus my attention on the window, watching as the sun slowly fades away and the sky turns black; there is no sunset. The sky has been gray for as long as I can remember. My mom tells me it's turned gray the day Dad died, but that's not true. It actually turned gray in 2073 due to all the pollution in the air. Unfortunately, the human race has beaten Earth down; the air is polluted, almost all wildlife is extinct, and the ice caps have melted from global warming. In every way, humans have used up all of Earth's natural resources and ruined all its natural beauty. On top of all that, there are now catastrophic natural disasters daily due to the Earth's dying state. The Earth isn't trustworthy any more; we never know when we might have to get off this planet. 

"Luna," my mom shouts from the kitchen. "Dinner's done," she then says.

 "Coming, Mom," I shout back, hurrying to the kitchen. I grab my plate and then sit at the table with my mom.

"Did you have a good day at school, sweetie?" my mom asked me.

"Yeah, sure," I reply, "It was boring; we just went over the evacuation plan again." 

"Oh," Mom replies, and then there's silence. Every day at school, we have to go over an evacuation plan just in case we have to escape Earth. Basically, we run outside and get to the nearest escape pod station; from there, the pod launches, and we go to Mars. The government has been working for years to make Mars habitable as a backup plan. The government has known that one day, the planet will fall apart and no longer be our home; they have known this since 2070. Therefore, everyone knows the escape plan, and it plays on the news every morning because we never know when the time we will have to escape will be. Some things have been strange lately. Though we've been practicing the plan more, the plan has also been played more frequently on the hologram. I haven't really thought much about it, though, because I doubt that we would have to evacuate anytime soon.

After the dishes were done, Mom and I decided to watch something on the hologram in the living room. It's normal for us to eat dinner and spend time together. That's when it happened; suddenly, the ground shook, and it felt worse than any earthquake we've ever had; my stomach dropped. The walls of our small home are cracking, and every light fixture on the ceiling swings vigorously, Then looking at my mothers's panic-stricken face I asked, "What do we do?"

She replies, "Wait," so that is what we do. We sat and stared at the hologram, hoping for some kind of news to see whether this was the time we had to evacuate. Biting my nails our nails, I sat anxiously; nervous butterflies rose in my stomach as we waited, scared of what type of news would be projected through the hologram. My mother is mumbling about what we should grab if we have to evacuate or which station is the nearest. My hands are shaking, and all I'm thinking of is how long we may be stuck on the pod or what if it gets lost in space. Many what-if scenarios run through my head in the nerve-racking moment. Then the sirens start. Suddenly, we find ourselves grabbing any picture we can off the shelves, stuffing it into Mom's purse, and heading for the door. Once we exit the door, we run to the car. Mom's panicked breaths and rushed words make me worry more. Are we going to die? I think to myself. The ground beneath the vehicle seems to rumble again, and I find myself more afraid.

"Drive," I shout to Mom. She seems to snap out of a trance and hits the gas. As we drive past the other houses in our neighborhood, people rush their families out the door and into their cars. Everyone is in a state of panic and shock. The road is cracked and falling apart due to the constant earthquakes. The wind blows so hard that the car shakes as we drive, so I grip the handle above my head and pray. The tires of Mom's car weaves in and out of each crack in the road as we drive, hoping we don't get stuck in traffic. The drive is silent; Mom is so focused on getting to the station that she doesn't even move her eyes off the road. As we approach the evacuation station, I see pods launching into the sky and heading toward space. Mom sloppy parks her car, and we rush to the station door. As we reach the inside of the building, people are pushing their way to the pods and taking off. I'm surrounded by children crying and parents trying to calm their screaming children. My mother still hasn't spoken a word, and neither have I. Mom and I hurry to the pod with a glowing light over the top that reads two spots left; quickly, we make our way into the pod and shut the door, hitting the big red button that says launch pod. 

The pod shakes and, with a loud hum, is in the air. I hear Mom let out a loud, exasperated breath; I then ask her, "Are we gonna be okay?"

Mom replies, "I hope so, honey." In no way does that help ease my nerves and worry. We just had to leave our home planet abruptly. No one is calm at this moment. There's another small family aboard the pod: a mother, a father, and a young child. Mom decides it would be nice to speak with them, but I must be alone. I choose to look out of the small pod window by the entrance. I can see Earth, which is surrounded by a gray cast. The planet almost looks like it is crumbling. Chunks of the large planet are slowly falling off and breaking apart into millions of small shards and chunks. All I can think about is, what if people are still there? What if not everyone can get on a pod in time? Many thoughts are running through my head, but I'm not alone; I know others will most likely have the same thoughts and worries. I just wish I could be at home in my bed instead of this metal pod, which just so happens to be in the middle of space. I wish I could just be home. 

 After staring at the window long enough, I decided to explore the pod, which is home, for the next month. There are two small rooms in this pod with a cramped bed in each, one bathroom in the middle of the ship, and a kitchen/living area. I decided to claim the room with less space for Mom and me since the other family was larger. I sat at the edge of the bed, looking around our tiny room. There was a small closet with vacuumed sealed clothes in many different sizes and colors, but for now, I chose to stay in my clothes from home. Mom eventually walked into the room and asked, "How are you doing, Luna."

I reply, "I'm nervous." 

She says, "Don't be honey; everything happens for a reason." I just nod my head. "Maybe life could be better on Mars," Mom says.

"What if we don't even make it there?" I say

"Of course, we will make it there, Luna. That's what this pod is designed to do," she follows up.

"I know, Mom, but I'm still scared," I say.

"We will be okay, honey. Just get some rest." Mom states. I comply and get under the covers of the small bed. Closing my eyes, I feel the engine's vibrations in the pod. It's soothing; I slowly drift off to sleep, anxious about the future.

It's been a month now of living on the pod. Mom and I have grown close with the other family aboard; they're lovely. Today is the day we reach Mars. I'm not scared anymore. I'm excited to get off this tin can. Mom said we should be able to see Mars from the window soon, and I can't help but feel the excitement bubbling in my stomach. A change of scenery is going to be so nice. I no longer have to feel the fear of not making it to Mars; our trip was safe and boring. I really can't wait to put my feet on the ground, run, and be free. "Luna, come look!" Mom yells. I hurry to the window and see a large red planet with tall buildings decorating its surface; it looks similar to Earth with all the cities and developments. This isn't going to be so bad after we don't have to live in fear of our planet dying anymore. With a large smile on my face, we land on our new home.