Frozen in Place

The Center was teeming with people. Typically, this place was a barren wasteland; the tattered wallpaper ever so slightly inching its way to the floor, the cracking foundation holding on for dear life and begging to collapse at any moment. No one liked to be in the Center if they didn't have to be, but once the United States government disintegrated, the Center took on a whole other level of despair. Every year on November 5th, begrudging daughters and heartbroken mothers trudge through the thick Minnesota snow; counting every footstep, tree branch, and snowflake as if to remember the vivid details of what could be their last day alive.

Everyone that was involved in the Stand had to wear a bright yellow cloak. It was quite a sight to see; as if someone pressed a highlighter down onto the Center and just let it bleed. They say it's for easy identification, but it is not lost on any of us that the color was chosen to prevent our escape. Yet, in the tenth year of this gruesome circus, the fight lingers in the people. There was news of someone attempting to scale the 50-foot concrete wall around the perimeter of the state. One of the highlighters, of course. I watched it on the news this morning, a mix of hope and sheer panic pulsating through my system. "What a dumb girl," I thought. But who is really stupid; the woman who challenges the system despite death, or the woman who complies to certain death?

Once the opening ceremony had concluded, the highlighters lined up in two single-file rows. The Shelterer who had delivered the commencement speech now lost whatever gentle nature she had left in her, sending daggers at each of us with her pointed, cruel gaze. Silent as a punctured eardrum, we marched towards our inevitable demise in defeated acceptance.

After what seemed like miles and miles of stomping through endless uncomfortable sludge, we made it to the pond. Although I had seen it many times before, no words could encapsulate how surreal it looked with the aura of death suspended over it. I'm sure I wasn't the only one who could see it. There were twenty this year, a surprisingly low number in comparison to Stands past. My heart jumped at the lack of weight that's going out on the ice, and then sank right back down into place. Who knows how long we'll be standing there, shivering in silence and misplaced contempt for one another.

How did that old saying go, diamonds are a girl's best friend? It's frankly shoes, at least in New Babylon. If you go out on that ice without the proper footwear, you're a dead woman walking. Having nice shoes used to be a lavish reward, and now it's a painstaking necessity. It's funny how those dynamics can change so quickly.

"All right, girls! Please lace up your boots and form a single file line, with haste!"

It was the same Shelterer with her simpering tone. We lined up, slowly, as if to prolong this nightmare just that much more.

We marched. Somberly, we took our places on the circumference of the ice. Considering the recent events, no one was in the mood for talking. Around 8 AM, an hour and a half in, the sun peaked its head out and pummeled us with its rays. Every five seconds, I would wiggle my heels to ensure that the ice was still rock solid. I conceded to the fact that today was going to be brutal. I looked over at the woman standing next to me and saw something that made me giddy.

"I love your necklace! Is it pre-Era? I'm surprised you were even able to keep it." I whispered to the stalky, road-hard lady. She came out of her trance and glared at me, taking a moment to realize I had complimented her.

"Thanks! It was my mother's. You'd be surprised what crevices you can find to hide things when the end of the world happens."

As I looked at her in horrified bewilderment, she said, "My name's Omarosa. I grew up on a dairy farm in what used to be Massachusetts. How did they capture you? My capture was epic. We laid a trap of explosives in the barn where, as soon as the Keepers came in looking for us, they became human chum in fiery glory. Then, we hid out in the trees and fired back and forth until we ran out of bullets. I saw the Keepers coming and lunged at the biggest guy I could, and I cut his face. Poor big fella screamed like a baby The best thing I've seen in a good, long while. We had them beat, but I pulled a hamstring, so now I'm here. What's your name?"

"My name's Larsa. I'm from the twin cities, born and raised. I went with the Keepers willingly, because I'm not a crackhead with a death wish."

"Wow, Larsa! Lovely name, although I'm sure that doesn't matter to you since you had no choice. What brings you out on this lovely morning?" she said coyly.

"Oh, I just decided to go for a nice stroll and thought, 'Gee, I hope someone kidnaps me and forces me to enter a barbaric, relentless competition that will most likely lead to my demise. That'd be just dandy.'"

"Can you both shut up? I can't move my hands, but I'd have smacked you both by now."

The angsty question came from the middle of the ice. A young girl named Nadu, who decided to start the competition off with a bang. This resulted in her getting hogtied and left in the center. We all looked at Nadu sympathetically, and let out a synchronous cry of laughter. Wherever you are in life, just remember it's better than being hogtied in the middle of a frozen pond.

I felt a light tap on my left shoulder. "Hi, I'm Sybella. It's nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too. Where are you from?"

She was short and slender, already shivering from the weather. I offered her an extra blanket I had in my satchel. She refused profusely.

"No thank you, ma'am, it'll be good for me to get some chill going in my bones. Better to succumb to the cold now than fool myself into trying to stay warm. I'm from Alaska, so I'm no stranger to the freeze."

"Well, you surely look cold-blooded, with your fuzzy boots and all."

She grimaced, and I realized my humor may have been misplaced. "Hey, you're a smarter woman than me. My moccasins are still taking their sweet time drying off."

I saw a smile escape from the corner of her lips. "They can't stop us from going out in style, can they?"

The hours passed like frozen molasses as we were all cemented into our spaces. Eventually, the rest of the women decided to stop listening to death knocking at their door and joined in on taking the piss out of our shared unfortunate circumstance. After all, what stops the cold and nihilism creeping in better than some old-fashioned, hearty laughter?.

It was getting close to dusk, so everyone linked arms and took turns taking cat naps. After some while, the women were too tired to keep count. Myself included, I dozed off shortly after 10 PM. When I awoke, it was to the dull sound of metal scraping against ice. In a daze, I glanced around frantically. Nadu was gone. I didn't see where she went or that anyone had untied her. It was then that I realized my hands had been bound behind my back, along with most of the others. I couldn't see Sybella either, but I heard a faint humming in her voice. I looked to my left, trying to kneel to get a better view. There was Sybella, doing something to the pond surface I couldn't quite make out. Though, the sawing sound was pretty clear. "Sybella!", I whisper-yelled. She looked up at me for only half a second, slowly let out a grin, and started to saw faster. I screamed for real this time, and all of the other girls woke up in puzzled frustration. I could feel my feet being moved by the vibrations of the saw, and looking down, I could see the water. My heart shot right out of my throat. I tried to muster uncertainty, but my mind would not let me succumb to disingenuous thoughts or denial. I knew exactly what was happening and I had no business being deluded.

Omarosa spoke up. "Larsa, I would feign apologetics, but we'll skip the pleasantries since we're short on time." She looked over at Sybella, diligently hacking away. "Truly, the novelty of having to give this speech every time has dissipated." Sybella cackled.

"We are part of an organization called the Esther Coalition. We have one objective: to eliminate this anthropological anarchy that begins and ends with the human race. How do we do this? We take on the persona of groups with extremist ideals as Trojan horses. Collectives who are spiritual, bigoted, and archaic. Collectives like New Babylon, whose motto is that with the right amount of order, we can thrive. Insert proverbial nonsense here. You see, the only thing we stand for is that there is nothing worth standing for. True power does not come with control; rather, true power comes from giving the perception of freedom. You thought you were free before? You are freer as a slave than you ever were as a woman. Freedom comes from being able to see the cage you're in rather than being tricked into thinking one doesn't exist. You could've had your autonomy, but for what purpose? In the utopian dream so profusely regurgitated by the downtrodden, everyone glosses over that the worst kinds of humans, the murderers, rapists, what have you, would mandatorily be ascribed that level of sovereignty as well. A harmonious community begs us to be ignorant of who we honestly are. If it wasn't us being the catalyst to the destruction of society, it would've been another greedy bastard intent on re-establishing their own. That's what makes us human. No matter the circumstances, we will eternally find ways to hurt others for our gain. Given these unquestionable facts of life, the only response can be our extinction. A pragmatic solution, I concede, but a necessary one nonetheless. Now, there's no need to thank me. Just be content that you will finally know peace."

Again, everything slowed. Sybella had finished and was ten feet away by the time the ice ruptured, along with Omarosa and the Keepers watching. They looked on as if they were watching their favorite show on television. The other girls slipped into the wet abyss one by one, their cries muted by the freezing water consuming them. In a panic-stricken frenzy, I tried to find anything I could that would save me. I saw a large pebble and grasped for it desperately before my feet gave way. Then I was under. Lucky for me, I was on the swim team in college, so I had the strength to stay close to the rim. I was amazed to be able to push through the cold shock zapping my muscles into submission. With the added lubrication, and having exceptionally small wrists, I writhed out of the ropes as quickly as I could. I was losing air fast and sinking. I couldn't move any longer. I heard the footsteps of the women and the Keepers fading away and I jolted my arm upwards, attempting to lodge the pebble in the ground outside. It slipped and I just barely caught it before it sank to the depths. My legs were giving out, and I would soon be fish fodder. I made one last attempt to wedge the rock into the surface. It worked.