FIVE FRIENDS AND THE PLANET OF NO AIR -Md Masud Rana

On the last day before winter vacation, the five of them stayed back in the school library long after the final bell rang. The sun dipped low outside the dusty windows, staining the shelves in orange light. Rafi had spread a crumpled poster across the table—a bright red planet floating in black space.

“Mars,” he whispered dramatically. “One day, we’ll go there.”

Mira rolled her eyes but smiled. “You can’t even go to the roof without getting dizzy.”

“I’m serious,” Rafi insisted. “Think about it. We could be the first from our town to step on another planet.”

Sabbir leaned back in his chair. “If we ever go, I’m planting our school flag.”

Nadia, always the quiet one, traced the planet’s outline with her finger. “Do you think it’s lonely up there?” she asked softly.

Jamil snapped the science book shut. “It’s not lonely. It’s freezing. And there’s almost no air. You’d last about two minutes without a suit.”

“Details,” Rafi said, waving his hand. “Let’s just imagine.”

So, they did. They imagined rockets blazing upward, their names printed in bold letters like those of astronauts from NASA. They imagined walking where the rovers of NASA—like Perseverance—had left tracks. They imagined their boots pressing into the rusty dust of Mars.

The library grew quiet. The hum of the ceiling fan turned steady, hypnotic.

“Close your eyes,” Mira said suddenly. “Let’s pretend we’re there.”

They laughed but obeyed.

And then everything changed.

The hum stopped.

A sharp wind howled in their ears. The floor beneath them trembled. Rafi’s chair tipped backward, and he shoutedbut the sound came out muffled, distant. The air felt thin, dry, biting at their throats.

When they opened their eyes, the library was gone.

Above them stretched a sky the color of pale orange, hazy and endless. The ground was red and cracked. Jagged rocks rose like broken teeth. The horizon curved strangely, as if the world were smaller.

No trees. No buildings. No sound except the whisper of wind.

For a long moment, none of them spoke.

“This… isn’t funny,” Sabbir said, his voice shaking.

Rafi’s heart pounded so loudly he thought it would burst. “We were just in the library.”

Mira spun in a slow circle. “Where are we?”

Jamil swallowed hard. “Look at the sky.”

They followed his gaze. The sun looked smaller, weaker. And in the distance, faint but unmistakable, hung a tiny blue star.

Earth.

Nadia’s breath caught. “That’s home.”

Panic crept in like frost. Rafi tried to inhale deeply but coughed. The air felt wrong—too thin, like breathing through cloth.

“We can’t survive here,” Jamil said, voice trembling now. “There’s barely any oxygen on Mars. The temperature can drop below minus sixty degrees Celsius. We’d freeze.”

As if summoned by his words, a sudden gust of wind whipped across the plain, lifting red dust into a swirling cloud. The storm built quickly, roaring louder, scratching their skin like sandpaper.

“Run!” Mira shouted.

They didn’t know where they were running, only that standing still felt worse. The ground was uneven; Nadia stumbled, and Sabbir caught her arm. Rafi’s lungs burned. Each step felt heavier, slower, as though gravity had shiftedlighter in some ways, but more exhausting in others.

Through the rising dust, Jamil pointed. “There! A ridge!”

They scrambled toward a cluster of rocks just as the storm exploded into full force. Dust swallowed the world. The wind screamed like an angry animal. They pressed their backs against stone, shielding their faces.

Rafi squeezed his eyes shut. This couldn’t be real. They had been in the library. They had just imagined.

“I don’t want to die here,” Nadia whispered.

The words hit Rafi harder than the wind.

He forced himself to think. If this was Mars, then it was impossible. No suits. No spaceship. No explanation. They would already be unconscious.

Unless—

“Listen to me!” he shouted over the storm. “This doesn’t make sense. We were imagining. Maybe we still are.”

Mira’s hair whipped wildly across her face. “You mean we’re dreaming?”

“Maybe!” Rafi said desperately. “Or hallucinating. Or something. But we can’t give up.”

Sabbir clenched his fists. “Even if it’s a dream, it feels real enough.”

The storm howled for what felt like hours, though it might have been minutes. When it finally began to fade, the world looked even more alien—dunes reshaped, rocks half-buried.

And in the distance, half-hidden by dust, stood something that hadn’t been there before.

A structure.

A dome, metallic and gleaming faintly under the weak sun.

Jamil’s eyes widened. “A habitat?”

They stared at one another.

“Either we’re not alone,” Mira said slowly, “or our imagination is getting creative.”

They approached cautiously. The dome was smooth, like something from a science documentary. A small hatch faced them, sealed tight.

Rafi reached out and touched it.

The metal feltcold, but strangely familiar.

As his fingers brushed the surface, the world flickered.

The sky blinked from orange to white.

The ground shifted beneath their feet.

And suddenly, they were no longer standing on red dust but on polished tile.

The ceiling fan hummed overhead.

The library shelves returned.

Rafi stumbled backward into a chair. Mira grabbed the table to steady herself. Sabbir stared at his hands as though expecting them to vanish.

Nadia gasped, tears spilling down her cheeks. “We’re back.”

The poster of Mars still lay on the table.

For several seconds, none of them spoke. The ordinary sounds of school—the distant laughter from the playground, a teacher’s footsteps in the corridorfelt unreal.

Jamil broke the silence. “We all saw the same thing.”

“Yes,” Mira said quietly. “The storm. The ridge. The dome.”

Rafi’s heart was still racing. “It felt so real.”

Sabbir exhaled slowly. “Maybe it was just a shared dream.”

“Is that even possible?” Nadia asked.

Jamil thought for a moment. “Our brains are powerful. We were imagining intensely. Maybe we triggered somethinglike a collective visualization. When people focus deeply, the mind can blur reality.”

Rafi looked at the poster again. The red planet seemed different now, not just exciting, but dangerous.

“I thought going to Mars would be cool,” he said softly. “I didn’t think about how hard it would be. How lonely. How deadly.”

Mira nodded. “Space isn’t a playground.”

Sabbir grinned weakly. “Good thing we didn’t actually go.”

But Nadia wasn’t smiling. “What if one day we do?” she said. “For real.”

They fell silent again.

The experience, dream or nothad changed something inside them. Mars was no longer just a picture in a book. It was cold wind in their ears. It was fear tightening their chests. It was the fragile sight of Earth hanging far away.

Rafi straightened. “If we ever go,” he said firmly, “we go prepared. We study. We train. We don’t just dream.”

Jamil smiled. “That’s the most sensible thing you’ve said all day.”

They packed their bags slowly, each lost in thought. As they stepped outside, the evening sky above their town glowed deep blue, clouds drifting peacefully.

Rafi looked up.

Somewhere beyond that sky, Mars circled the sunsilent and patient.

He didn’t know what had happened in the library. Maybe it was imagination. Maybe it was something stranger. But he knew one thing: adventure wasn’t just about excitement. It was about courage, knowledge, and understanding the risks.

As they walked home together, Mira nudged him. “Still want to go to Mars?”

Rafi smiled.

“Yes,” he said. “But next time, let’s bring oxygen.”