ALASKA V3 CREATIVE WRITING CONTEST

OCTOPLEB

His stomach growling loudly, Kelsey glanced behind him, facing a line of people waiting to get their food. His legs felt slightly weak as he glanced between all of the options on the table in front of him, and he pressed his hands on the warm metal to avoid collapsing. A mix of the heat in the room and his own anxiety had him working up a considerable sweat. A gentle tap on his shoulder sent shockwaves through his entire body as he spun around to face the perpetrator.

His little sister, Kim, looked up at him, her hand gripping her hip hard enough to shatter Kelsey’s bones. She pointed at the tray of mac and cheese in front of him. “Get that,” she hissed. She pointed her thumb over her shoulder. “There are plenty of people behind us and I’m not willing to get publicly embarrassed on my birthday.”

The older brother nodded, his throat too closed up to squeak out an apology. He picked up the ladle that sat on the tray of food and carefully counted out three scoops, his hands shaking enough to double as a massage chair. Kim pushed past him, picking out foods with ease, her tray filling up at an alarming speed.

“I don’t know why you get so anxious over these things,” Kim muttered. “I thought that if we went to a buffet, you’d ease up a bit.”

Kelsey clicked his tongue. “Be lucky I’m not wasting some poor waitress’s time, at least.”

“But you’re wasting mine.” Kim looked over at Kelsey’s near-empty tray and sighed, her tense shoulders falling as her expression evened out. Kelsey felt ever so slightly more at ease, still sensing the angry crowd of buffet-goers behind him. Kim looked over at him, waving her hand dismissively. “Go sit down, I’ll put some food on your tray.”

As bad as Kelsey felt for annoying his sister on her birthday, he felt a weight fall off his shoulders as he sat down with his parents at their table. Mom pursed her lips as she saw him sit down without a tray.

“You’ve gotta learn how to decide for yourself, Kel,” she scolded. Kelsey had gone through the same lecture time and time again, so he simply prepared himself. Mom seemed to notice his resignation, but she went on anyway. “One day, you’re going to live on your own, and you’ll have to stop relying on other people to make your decisions.”

Always his saving grace, the birthday girl sat down next to Kelsey, passing him a tray piled with food. Her own tray had a considerably larger amount of food, enough to make Kelsey feel full just looking at it.

“I hope this isn’t too much,” Kim said, stopping Mom from going on with her repeated lecture. “I figured since it was allyou-can-eat, I’d take it literally.”

Mom tore her eyes away from Kelsey to look at her now-teenage daughter, a smile appearing on her face where it wasn’t before.

“Of course not, dear. It’s your birthday, you can get as much as you want.” She glanced over to Dad, who was silently shoveling food in his mouth at alarming rates. “Not to mention, your father got far more than you did.”

Kim smiled. “I can never be surprised he won a hotdog eating competition when he eats like that.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Dad whined, wiping his mouth. “I am eating like any man should.”

Mom placed her hand on Kelsey’s shoulder, a solemn look on her face. “Kel, dear. Don’t listen to your father.”

Kelsey smiled. “I wasn’t planning on it, Mom.”

“Hey!”

All the tension from earlier had subsided as Kim struck up a conversation, her natural charisma making up for any gaps that Kelsey’s social ineptness or Dad’s mouthstuffing made.

Kim was in the middle of teasing dad about his failed garage band he had started back in 2024 when she slowly trailed off, looking over at Mom.

“Mom, are you okay?”

Mom was staring down at her food with an empty expression, her hands in her lap. She hadn’t eaten a single bite of her food since Kelsey had last looked at her, and she hadn’t spoken in a while either. She glanced up at Kim, her reaction delayed.

“I’m alright,” she said, her voice hardly audible. She managed a weak smile as her head slowly dropped to the side.

Kim only caught on in time to jump out of her seat and catch Mom from falling, her head inches away from hitting the ground.

Mom curled up in her bed, her entire body tense. Kim sat next to her, gently rubbing her arm. Kelsey sat on the floor, resting his chin on his knees in silence, his back pressed against the wall. The lights were off and the curtains were drawn.

The door opened as Dad stepped in, letting light into the room. Mom tossed her blanket over her head, groaning slightly.

“I spoke with a friend of mine, the doctor,” Dad said, gently closing the door. “He said that it’s probably just a fever.”

Kelsey let out a sigh, closing his eyes peacefully. “That’s good.”

ALASKA V3 CREATIVE WRITING CONTEST

“Yeah, it’s great,” Kim said, her voice somewhat shaky. Kelsey kept his eyes shut tight, his head hurting from the pressure.

“Is something wrong, Kim?” Dad asked. Kelsey dug his head into his knees.

There was a momentary silence. Kelsey could feel Kim’s eyes on him.

“No, it’s nothing. I’m glad you’re okay, Mom.”

Kelsey opened his eyes and saw Kim crouching in front of him.

“C’mon, Kel. Let’s let Mom get some rest.”

Gently taking her older brother’s hand, she led them out of the room, shooting one last glance at Mom, her expression unreadable.

“Hey, Kel?”

Kim sat on the bottom bunk of their bed, texting one of her friends. Kelsey lay on the top bunk, staring aimlessly at the ceiling.

“What’s up?”

“So, Alaska was split into two because of a threat of war or something like that, right?”

Kelsey nodded. “There were a lot of protests from people in different parties that turned into riots.”

“Right,” Kim rolled over. “So what makes us the good guys, exactly? I mean, like, we only hear bad things about East Alaska, so what do they hear about us? And what about people who try to go to the other side without registration? There must be some people who do that, so why don’t we hear about them?”

Kelsey lay on his side, his eyes shut tight.

“I dunno.”

Kim clicked her tongue. “Of course you don’t.”

Life went on as usual after that. The kids went to school and Dad went to work while Mom lay in bed, either asleep or in pain. Her skin had taken on a sickly pale color, and she gradually became thinner, no matter how much she ate.

Around three months after Mom had fallen ill, Kim called Kelsey and Dad into the living room. She sat on the coffee table, wringing her hands.

“Mom’s been sick for a while, now,” she said, looking only at Dad. Chances were that Kelsey wasn’t going to listen, anyway. “I don’t think it’s a fever.”

Dad nodded solemnly. “What do you think it is, then?”

Kim shifted in her seat ever so slightly. “I was speaking with a friend who moved here from East Alaska.” She swallowed, her eyes quickly darting over to Kelsey. “She said that there’s been an unnamed pandemic going around for years that West Alaska hasn’t been treating at all.” She looked at Dad earnestly. “It aligns with Mom’s symptoms. Chances are, if we don’t get her treated, she’ll die.”

Kelsey thought it was crazy. There was no way he’d believe that Mom was suffering from some deadly disease that nobody ever talked about. It was just another one of Kim’s delusions. He looked over to Dad, hoping he would protest, but Dad was listening to Kim. He believed every word Kim was saying.

Kelsey stayed quiet.

There was a loud knocking on the wood of Kelsey’s bunk bed.

“Kel, get up,” Kim shouted from on the ground. “We need to go.”

Kelsey curled up, keeping his eyes shut. “I don’t wanna go!” He protested.

“If we don’t get the registration to move, we can’t get Mom the help she needs. Now get up.”

Kelsey sat up, opening his eyes. The sudden light of the once-dark room burned. He looked down at Kim.

“You really think I’ll believe some crap about a secret disease? Mom just has a fever, stop spouting your delusions and apologize to Dad already.”

Kim’s eyes widened for a split second. “Have you ever listened to a word Mom’s said to you? You need to get out of your own head and think for yourself for once in your life. The truth is that Mom’s deathly ill and you just don’t wanna think about it because you can’t look past what you’ve been told.” Kim looked away from Kelsey, making her way to the door. “You need to suck it up before you get everyone else killed.”

Kelsey stayed quiet.

Dad drove them to the registration center that stood outside the unofficial border between East and West Alaska. Kelsey looked down at his legs, avoiding any eye contact with Kim. Crappy music was blaring from the radio.

“Hey, Kel,” Kim whispered, her voice far softer than earlier. “I’m sorry about what I said, I shouldn’t have gone that far.”

“It’s fine.” Kelsey didn’t look away from his legs.

The registration mostly consisted of what felt like a verbal Terms and Conditions page. They spoke about prohibiting any public speech that could potentially cause riots. After listening for about an hour, they were forced to pledge allegiance.

Three hours after they arrived, the family left with registration forms in hand.

Kim clicked her tongue. “They’re pretty much asking us to change our views or stay quiet,” she complained. “But I suppose it’s better than letting anything bad happen to Mom.”

“Change my views or stay quiet, huh?” Kelsey looked away from his legs, making eye contact with his sister. “I suppose that’s what I’m good at.”

Kelsey sat on the floor with his back against the wall, his knees pulled up to his chest with his chin resting on his knees. Next to him was his little sister, who was sitting with her legs crossed, tapping away at her phone. Around them, the movers put things in boxes and lugged them outside, having conversations among themselves.

“Dad says he’ll get us separate rooms in our new house,” Kim muttered.

“So we won’t be in bunk beds anymore?” Kelsey raised his head to look at his sister.

“Nope.”

The new house was big and empty. Mom was in the hospital and Kim had already set up her new room. Kelsey got his new bed in place, but let the other cardboard boxes sit and collect dust. Kim had nagged him about this before, but she eventually realized it was pointless.

He stared up at the ceiling, which was a lot farther away than he liked. The silence was deafening.

“I hate it here,” he muttered.

The room stayed quiet.

Kim patted Kelsey on the shoulder, her mouth full of cereal.

“I know you hate school, but you’ve never been this nervous,” she commented, wiping her mouth. “What’s up?”

Kelsey took a bite of his apple. “I’ve heard that East Alaska has a lot of poorer quality