This is another story for another monthly contest. This is just a very rough draft just so I have a base however, I'm unsure if I will edit it up and make it better or make something else. I'm planning to hopefully do another story called Feed My Eyes which will be significantly darker than this with an element of Eternal Darkness in it hopefully which hopefully will end up better than this however I'm unsure.

Clouds In The Sky.

I am the last of the truly free men and it's something I'm constantly proud to admit. Countries have taken over all areas of land and all areas of sea. Putting it under their control usually on a "first come first served" basis. However, I have managed to avoid being controlled by creating my own flying island. It collects water when it rains, it grows crops and I'm on the move so I'm self sustained and not controlled by laws. As long I don't hang around too long, I usually get no trouble. I guess one way to describe me is an "air hermit".

The only time I come down is for bare essentials like clothes if my clothes are ripped or food and water if it's been a dry season. I managed to set up a miniature hot air balloon to get me up to the ship and to get me back down. Other than that, the only other communication I have is with Jacob. See, when I'm up here not watering plants from the water collection service, repairing something or lounging, I'm writing stories. Of course, I go under a fake alias and get a dear friend (Jacob) to pose as me but besides that, I write the material and he gets it published, it's a 30-70 cut respectively between me and Jacob and we're happy with it. We don't get much but it's enough.

However, this story isn't about how I've sustained free from the government. My floating island is actually a real chunk of an uninhabited island that I managed to create a container of using titanium protected by stainless steel sheets. The island part was then cleaned of any useless plant-life and replaced with useful land to be used for crops. A drainage system was also created so any extra water wouldn't sit in the bottom of the earth but would then be sucked back up to the surface using natural pressure. I also had a small shed where I had a desk, a single bed and an acoustic guitar.

The key part of the design is how it's lifted. In 1694, a ship sailing with an unknown artefact collapsed, likely due to a large wave over-turning the boat. Ever since then, anything that approached a certain area near it had a chance to be struck down by the artefact using waves of energy untraceable by normal methods. First, transmissions failed, then electricity failed, then the windows would break and if anything was left, the material would eventually break under the strain. In about 1750, it begun to get interference and got increasingly weaker until it was rare for something to be destroyed which lead to speculations that it never existed (due to the location of the artefact, it was rare for something up to roughly late 1800 to come anywhere near it).

At first, I was unable to collect the artefact due to the lack of knowledge of how to store it. It was then I realised what stopped the waves getting through: soil. To be more precise, the seabed. After researching the artefact for twenty years, I found a way to turn the waves into a way to push air bellow me in such a manner as to keep me floating at a certain height without creating wind. Due to the lack of control, I kept it at a height high enough for people to typically not notice it and then weakened it with the dirt inside the island. About a further decade later, I got it up and five years on, here I am.

Due to the possible destructive force of the artefact, I have kept it quiet. Despite this, a representative of a sector of a government came a month ago to persuade me to "share the technology with" (give the technology to) him. I refused, knowing they'd use it for war. They kept trying to convince me to see it their way using all sorts of techniques (blackmailing, bargaining, getting Jacob involved and so on) until a week ago when they went silent. I thought they had given up and called it quits.

Today though, after lunch, I was greeted by a large fan noise. It grew greater and greater until I couldn't hear myself talk. Finally, a dark shadow pulled it's self from under the side of the island creating a large gust across the land. I let out a sigh of annoyance as the sharp wind blew one or two crops away (which pales in comparison to the amount of crops that got blown away the first time a chopper showed up).

It moved it's self over the island a little bit as though to land but then begun shooting using the machine guns on the wings. I sprinted across the island to what little protection I had: The wooden shed. I ran in there (despite paper being as good protection from bullets as wood) and hid under the bed as I heard more and more gunfire. A rain of gunfire suddenly swept it's self over the hut. First sliced, then diced it's gun fire to make sure it got me. I clutched my right thigh in pain, cursing the government behind this attack under my breath. I then heard one or two explosions and was lucky enough not to be hit. I waited a minute or two further after the second explosion before deciding the helicopter was probably gone. I crawled out from under the bed on my hands and knees out of the shed to see my island, my right leg throbbing in pain. Suddenly, I heard a burst of gun fire heading my way so I dived back into the shed. It cut down the land and the fan sound increased to a mighty roar and then quickly decreased in volume until it was like a buzz. I then heard a mighty explosion and felt the ground it's self shake. A second or two later, the island begun to tip.

The noise of the fans evaporated into the air within less than ten seconds although it was unclear if it was because the island had fallen that fast or the helicopter had gone away. Unsure what to do and because I knew the possible destructive power of the artefact, I climbed to my feet and limped over to the edge of the island. I looked down the edge, the wind rushing against me. It was almost strong enough to blow me off my feet. I took a deep breath, picturing in my mind if I changed my mind, and then took a large step.

What started as a relaxing realisation then slowly turned into pain as I sped up. The pain started as a few pins and needles increased to the pain you'd get landing onto your stomach first face down flat onto water and then increased. I turned in the air in the pain to view my island. Sinking in fire when suddenly a large explosion from side tore apart the entire structure. As I turned back towards the ground, I wondered why it had occurred: Did a helicopter drop a bomb? Did the artefact blow up? Was it something else?

As I felt the air cut into me, I realised that all I'll be to all the people below, the people who had no idea what just happened above them, are clouds in the sky.

Edit: Edited the story a bit thanks to B-O.