Some nights, when I grow weary of lying awake and listening to the incomprehensible sounds of the jungle surrounding our colony habitats, I leave the safety of our security fence and walk to the edge of the surrounding wilderness to get a glimpse of my old friend.

Memories of my childhood away from the colony are vague. Still, from what I have been told, I was the only survivor of a crashed transport pod, one of the thousands descended on De La Terra , a small Earth-like planet orbiting Procyon, 12 light years from Earth in the constellation Canis Minor. The pods were dropped from our transport ship and had full life support and supplies for two days, allowing my parents and me to wait for the colony survey ships to pick us up from our landing spots.

Unfortunately, our pod seemed to lose control as it hit De La Terra thick atmosphere. We crash-landed hundreds of miles away from the colony, and I – 12 years old at the time, was the only survivor. It took a few cold nights living off the emergency supplies before a troop of what looked like apes found me hungry and exhausted, beyond the ability to run away or try to protect myself. One of the apes, a slender and gentle one picked me up and handed me a pouch full of water and a handful of what looked like nuts. The troop moved on and I followed them deep into the jungle.

Five years passed before my personal implant beacon appeared on one of the colony survey ships. In those amazing years, I learned to live off the land, following the troops and my companion who kept walking, sleeping, eating, and drinking with me like a caring mother, guarding me at night from the dangers of the wilderness around us and keeping me company at all times.

I will never forget the day the survey ship landed right next to us and security personnel from the colony came out and started shooting in the air, scaring the troop and my companion away while quickly pulling me, fighting and screaming like a wild animal into the ship. I did not want to leave; I loved the troop and my loyal companion. It was heartbreaking to watch from the ship view portal my good old friend waving and screaming toward the sky as we lifted off the ground.

Years later, as I walked around the colony security fence, I saw from a distance a movement in the thick of the trees, as I got closer, to my amazement, my good old companion was standing there, looking at me astonished. It seems she left the troop and somehow found the colony. Her face turned to the sky, stretching her hands up as if pointing at the leaving ship. Tears glistened on her cheeks, she was crying out vocals I could not understand but at the same time she hand-signaled me - "look back at the jungle and remember me sometimes. I know I will never forget".