Ophelia & the Heart Shaped Locket

I dare not draw attention to the heart shaped locket I keep tightly wrapped around my ankle, tucked in my sock. It is the very item these roadblocks are designed to find. My heart is in my throat as the guards shuffle us all through one by one. They question with their cold eyes and hard hands. I can’t let the internal panic become visible. We’re so close. Freedom is in sight. I can’t blow this for us.

I feel the gentle nudge of my Grandmother behind me. We’re moving forward. She’s a great comfort to me. Just her touch and presence make all the difference. My Uncle Rife is with us as well. If it wasn’t for him I’m sure we wouldn’t be alive. It’s just us three. We’re all that’s left of our family. It’s been a hard road to this point. There has been so much sacrifice. So much heartache. And that’s why I have to be calm. I can’t blow this for us.

The Supreme Leader is dying. She claims that the locket I have hidden holds the key to her survival. I don’t care. It’s my locket. I will die before I give it over, like much of my family before me. I won’t let their sacrifice be in vain. My locket holds a single drop of blood preserved inside. I’ll be honest, I don’t know for sure. It’s what I’ve been told, though I’ve never dared look for myself. It cost my Father his life, so I protect it with mine. It’s apparently a rare blood type, but I guess all types are pretty rare these days. Mankind is holding on by a thread. We’re nearly extinct. We did it to ourselves, but the war played a large part.

Grandma talks about life before the war. I’ve never known anything but this. Her world sounds like a fairytale or a bedtime story compared to the nothingness that is now. I guess the war was really the beginning of the end. I’ve heard old timers talking about it on our journey. The war holds titles like Armaggeddon, Ragnarok, the Omega Battle, World War 3. Some of them have stories of having to fight. The stories are terrible. Brother against brother, Sister against sister, Fathers against their children. I can’t imagine what caused such hatred to boil. The world we live in today, if you’d call it that, is the end product of it all.

The sun doesn’t really shine. I mean it does, it just can’t break through the atmosphere. Grandma tells me the sky used to be blue. It’s gray now. The grass is brown. I’m told it used to be green, that water was blue, and mostly consumable. The hardest one to believe: food was plentiful. I can’t really imagine any of that. Maybe there’s no such thing as an imagination anymore, though. I wouldn’t know how to access my imagination, even if I had to.

My Grandma nudges me again. We’re moving, shuffling forward. The guards seem to be hungry today. They are pacing like the mountain cats up north do. They are looking for weaknesses. Their armor is black, like their souls. There’s not a single part of their body that’s not covered in some sort of armor or tactical gear. It’s completely impossible to make out any sort of characteristics. Which, in my opinion, makes them non-human. They wear dark goggles over their eyes, so you don’t even know if they’re looking at you or just in your direction. It’s unnerving.

“Keep your eyes locked on the other side of the checkpoint,” my Uncle whispers in my ear. I nod in acknowledgment and take another step forward.

We’re filing in like lambs to the slaughter. Someone stumbles several people ahead of us. The sudden movement draws the attention of several guards. They spring into action as if the person tripping was a threat to their lives. They quickly pull the person from the line with tremendous, unnecessary force. They begin to beat them until the person “complies”. Finally, I guess the aggression leaves their system and force the person back into line. My heart breaks for them. The injured, not the terrible excuses for humans called guards. My heart breaks for every single person in this line.

“Keep your eyes locked.” My Uncle's words run back through my head. I fix myself. I clear my mind and I step forward. I stand, a 15 year old girl, between my towering Uncle and my sweet Grandma. I’ve adopted the nickname my Grandma has given me as the Supreme Leader knows my birth name. I can’t let her find me. She’ll take the locket, and probably my life. So I go by Willow. My Grandparents were married under a Weeping Willow tree, so naturally she’s drawn to them.

We’re five, maybe six people from clearing the gate to cross the border. We’re five, maybe six people from our freedom. They’re allowing people to flee the nation in hopes of finding the locket. They’re growing desperate. They’ve never offered freedom from tyranny before. We step forward. Four, maybe five people now.

I notice movement to my right as a group of guards begin talking amongst themselves. I try to ignore it. I have to keep my eyes locked just like Uncle Rife said. I’m trying, but man is it hard to do! With each step my heart climbs another rung. It’s currently beating in my throat. I’m trying to swallow it down. I swear they can hear my heart and that’s what they’re discussing.

Eyes locked.

We take another step forward. It's our turn! They frisk Uncle Rife. His huge arms reach to the sky in submission. He could take nearly all these guards himself. I’ve seen him in action many times. Yet here he is, compliant one.. last… time. I’m fighting a smile that’s trying to form on my face. The anticipation of stepping over that line is nearly too much for me.

“You’re clear,” the frisking guard announces. Rife nods and steps through the gate. He then turns and waits. I see him fighting the same smile I am.

Now it’s my turn. Eyes locked. I step forward and lift my arms just as Uncle Rife did. Eyes locked. The guard clears my arms, my back and my waist. Eyes locked. The guard clears my thighs and moves toward my feet. Eyes… Eyes lock-

“Pull up your pant leg.”

I’m no longer struggling with my heart in my throat, and that’s because it is now down where the locket is. It’s beating in my ankle and betraying me, alerting the guard that I’m hiding the coveted jewelry in my sock! I swallow hard and hesitate.

“I said… Pull up your pant leg,” the guard repeats.

“I uh…” As if I could respond with anything other than lifting my pant leg.

Two guards join the guard that has nearly lost all of his patience with me. My Grandma nudges me and I quickly bend down and raise my pant leg to reveal my extremely long tube sock. Maybe that’ll be enough to deter him?

“Now the sock.” The guard stands to his feet. He knows this is it. He knows I’m hiding something. I feel the burn of tears in my eyes as I begin to slowly roll down my sock. This is it for me. I wish I was bigger. I wish I was Rife’s twin. We could take all of them together. We could beat them all and free everyone in this line. But I’m not. I’m just a teenager. My eternally long sock finally reveals the prize they were hoping for.

The appearance of this simple heart shaped locket takes everyone by surprise. There are no words and it seems everyone has stopped breathing. I look up at my Grandma. Tears are streaming down her face. I apologize with a tear-filled grin, and spring into action. I run as fast and hard as I can. I bolt up off the ground, catching all the guards, well, off-guard. I sprint with everything I have, but it’s not enough. They are on me in seconds. I’m tackled to the ground and apprehended.

“Don’t hurt her,” calls one of the guards. “The Supreme Leader wants her unharmed!”

“Let me go!” I scream. I’m kicking and flailing with everything I have. I’m not going to make this easy for them. Unfortunately none of my efforts are doing much of anything. I’m maybe 120 pounds. The two guards that hold me are doing so with ease.

“This’ll take the edge off,” says the guard that called out earlier. He steps up and tranques me.

I wake in a startle. I’m sitting up… in a bed? I’ve never slept in a real bed. This is by far the most comfortable thing I’ve ever sat on, much less slept on! What is this place? This is the most posh, luxurious place I’ve ever seen. I’d imagine this is the way a palace would have looked back in the days before. Maybe?

I quickly look around and am met by the gaze of a stunning goddess of a woman, the Supreme Leader. I quickly check my ankle for the locket. Gone. In fact, I’m no longer in the clothes I was kidnapped in. I’m wearing a very expensive-looking all white jumpsuit. What the…?

“Looking for this?” The Supreme Leader holds up my locket.

I say nothing. Honestly, I’m terrified. Before I can think of anything she casually tosses the locket to me. I scramble to catch it, confused.

“You don’t-” is all I can get out.

“Tell me Ophelia,” she pauses. She called me by my birth name. It catches me off guard, even though I know she knows it. I just haven’t heard that name in a long time. “Have you ever looked at what’s inside that locket?” She asks.

I stare at her and then slowly turn my attention to the locket resting in my open palm. After a brief moment I shake my head slightly. The curiosity never outweighed what it cost me. I didn’t care what was in the stupid locket. Blood or no blood, I was going to keep it from her. It cost me everything, so it was going to cost her everything. I guess I failed at that, though.

“Go ahead,” she prods. I comply. It seems I have to. I slowly open the locket. On one side of the locket rests a picture of my Father. I nearly gasp at the sight of seeing my Daddy again. How I miss him. I miss his hugs and his deep laugh, his wisdom and his love. I feel tears welling up, but I fight them off. I won’t give her the satisfaction of seeing me cry. I open the locket further. On the opposite side of the open locket sits a picture of the Supreme Leader. Immediately I look at her in complete confusion.

“All this time you thought I was after that trinket,” she starts with a grin, her eyes trained on mine. “You are the one I’ve been after.” A very long moment passes as she looks to the ground. The very first sign of any uncertainty in this statuesque woman. “I have to show you why things are the way they are. I must show you that I am not the enemy. I must show you what is at stake and what I have been keeping at bay.”

“Wh-why?”

“Because Ophelia, I did all of this for you. Daughter.”