Heart of the earth

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September 15, 2056

Dear Diary,

Today is the day that could change my entire life. In a few hours, they'll announce the results of the final B.E.S.T. lottery. The last chance to leave Earth. I can't sleep, my thoughts are a jumble. What if Maria and I don't win? What if only one of us wins?

Yesterday at school, I could barely focus on my lessons. I was telling the children about the great migrations in human history, all the while thinking about how we're now on the brink of the largest migration in history. The irony isn't lost on me - I teach history, yet I might become a part of it. Or remain here, on a dying planet.

Maria says we have good chances. She works at the medical center that prepares people for space travel. I'm a teacher. Our professions are needed there, in the new world. But is that enough?

In the evening, we talked at length about what we'd do if we won. Maria dreams of a garden on the space station. I want to create a museum of Earth's history, so our descendants don't forget where we came from. We made plans, laughed, but I saw fear in her eyes. The same fear that's in mine.

And what if we lose? I can't stop thinking about it. Here on Earth, there's not much time left. Resources are depleting, the climate is becoming more unpredictable. Will we be able to survive? And more importantly - what for?

I'm trying to cheer myself up. If we don't win, we'll keep fighting. We'll continue teaching children, treating the sick, do everything possible to make Earth's final days dignified. But deep down, I know it's just an attempt to console myself.

In two hours, they'll announce the results. I'm holding our lottery tickets - two small rectangles of paper that will decide our fate. Numbers I know by heart: 27A-5691 and 27A-5692. Right now, they're just figures, but in a few hours, they could become our ticket to the future or our sentence.

Maria is sleeping beside me. I look at her and think: whatever happens, we'll manage together. But God, how I want us to win. How I want to give her a chance at a future.

There's very little time left. I'll make my next entry knowing the result. I hope it will be full of joy and plans for a new life. And if not... Well, then we'll have to find meaning in staying behind.

Alexei

June 16, 2056

Dear Diary,

I don't know how to begin this entry. Yesterday, Maria and I won the B.E.S.T. lottery. Two tickets to a new life. We celebrated, made plans, packed our things. And today... today everything fell apart.

The final medical check-up. A mere formality, I thought. But the doctor looked at me with such sympathy that I understood everything before he even spoke. Congenital heart defect. How could I not have known? How could I have lived 28 years without suspecting this?

The verdict is merciless: I can't fly. The risk is too great. The g-forces during takeoff, prolonged stay in zero gravity – my heart won't withstand it.

I'm sitting in our apartment, looking at the packed suitcases, unable to believe that just 24 hours ago we were the happiest people on Earth. Now these suitcases are a mockery of fate.

Maria is crying. She says she'll stay with me. But I can't allow that. We have one ticket, and she must use it. She has her whole life ahead of her, she's a talented doctor, she's needed there, in the new world.

We argued for hours. I convinced her that this was the right thing to do. That I couldn't live knowing I'd deprived her of a chance for a future. In the end, she agreed. But her eyes... God, I'll never forget that look.

Tomorrow she flies away. And I'm staying here, on Earth, which is slowly dying. The irony of fate – my sick heart has chained me to a sick planet.

What will I do? I'll continue teaching. There are still children here who need to know history, to understand who we are and where we came from. Maybe I can help those who, like me, stayed behind. Create a support group or something like that.

I'm trying to find meaning in this, but honestly – I'm scared. Scared to be alone, scared to know that my life is now limited not only by a dying planet but also by my own body.

Maria promised to write. She says that one day they'll find a way to treat diseases like mine, and then she'll come back for me. I nod and smile, but we both know it's just a comforting lie.

In a few hours, I'll embrace the love of my life for the last time. And then I'll watch her fly away to the stars, leaving me here.

I must be strong. For her. For myself. For everyone who's left behind.

But now, alone with these pages, I can admit: I've never felt so lost and lonely...

Alex