She Who Wears Her Heart On Her Sleeve

Her name was Mallory, from the french derivative mallorée, meaning the unfortunate one. It was fitting; she died twice in her life.

They did it the first time. There was the sterile stench of the room. Gloved hands that touched her, blinding light that transfixed her. An imagery came to mind. A deer in the headlights. But there were no more deers. Perhaps they were all killed in that way.

She shouted but no sound came. Pain and fear came in waves. The crumbling of her soul. The slipping of her life. The erosion of her reality.

When she woke up, it was there, an ugly thing tied around her neck. A suffocating weight on her chest, especially now that it was empty. She touched the ruby pendant, trembling fingers and reluctant acceptance.

Even so, she brought her hand over her chest. It stayed terribly still. There was no more heart; it was in the pendant.

It’s not like she had known much apart from the coldness of the iron bars, the smell of disinfectant. The occasional stack of papers with drawings of the foreign world outside. The echo of her name. Mallory.

That was all before the strange people in suits came and took her heart out.

She looked around.

There were two rows of beds. The metal kind that creaked—an awful strident sound—when one moved.

“Hello?” Echoes through walls of slate grey and dove ceilings.

Nothing.

Cold tiles met her feet. She stood up and waited for the dizziness that came after laying for too long. It did not come.

How long has she been here?

The room had no windows but it was bright. She stood there and listened. There was only the buzzing of the tube lights above head.

A door stood at the end of the beds. It was the only exit.

Her footsteps were soundless. She was still young, lithe in that strange period between girlhood and womanhood.

She stood before the door for a moment. Or what is for an eternity? She could not tell. Nothing had changed.

What would meet her on the other side?

But nothing had changed, and perhaps she wanted something to change.

And so the door opened easily. A gust of hot wind blew sand in her face. She looked down at it first, scattered gold against the bleached white tiles.

Only then did she gaze into the desolate scenery beyond.

She saw the sky. It was blue. Not like the hazmat suits the strange people sometimes wore. It was a true blue, varying in intensity at places but true nonetheless.

Everything felt truer. It was not though—a fleeting memory told her it was not—but she felt free and that was all that mattered. The feeling, not the reality.

The sand was burning, scorching the soles of her foot. She had never been under the sun. It set her skin ablaze wherever it touched.

She took it all in. It was the first time she felt such a kind of pain. It was different from the needles and the machines. It was beautiful and she would cherish it even if it killed her.

Her pendant glowed. She brought it to her face, squeezed between her fingers. A red light pulsed in it. It was pretty to look at.

A shadow blocked the sun. Claws grabbed at her hair. She tumbled down the dunes, rolling in the sand until she came to a stop.

She stood up again, brushing the hair blocking her eyes.

Strange structures that rose to the sky stood in the distance. They did not look very sturdy. Perhaps they had been in some distant past, but were now desolate and worn down, stripped bare of their outings.

“It used to be a city.” The bird spoke.

She looked at it.

“That was not very nice.” She patted the back of her head. “Why am I here?”

“To live,” a nonchalant reply.

She sat down in the shade of one of the buildings. “But I am dead. They took my heart out.”

The bird tilted its head. “You can still feel. That is enough.”

She had a lot of questions and he not keen on answering them. Her head hurt from thinking too much. There was so much to see and feel here. It was overwhelming.

“Are you dead too?”

“I was never alive, but my kind is dead.”

“What is your kind?”

“Ravens.”

She looked back at the remnants of those huge buildings. How majestic would they have been before their downfall.

“What are they?” She gestured at the closest one.

“They called them skyscrapers.”

“They?”

“Your kind. Humans.”

She didn’t say anything, simply looked up again. She stretched a hand towards the highest one, the point where its dark shadow met the azur above.

“I want to go there.”

“You are meant to go there anyway.”

~

They marched in the shade of these giants of iron and concrete.

“How come you were never alive?”

“Because this is not real.”

“Then where are we?”

He swooped down and landed on her shoulder. “In here.” He pecked her temple.

She brushed him away. “What do you mean?”

“We are in your head. In your consciousness.”

“So I am dead.”

He landed in a concrete slab in front of her. His eyes were dark. Two ebony voids that stared back at her. “There are others more dead than you.”

“Like whom?”

“The others of your kind. The people outside.”

“Why are they more dead than me?”

“Because they do not feel. They are but empty boxes devoid of emotions, yet still call themselves humans. They are like me. Perhaps even worse.”

“But you’re a raven.”

“I am an artificial consciousness. I was created by your kind to make sure you die.”

“But I am dead.” She resumed her trekking. “Tell me more about cities. They must have been pretty.”

“They were. People used to live here. It was lively and colourful. They had walls of glass to gaze towards the valley.” He stretched a wing towards the direction she had come. “It was lush and green around the river. Would you like to see?”

“Yes.” It was a desperate longing. She had no idea what he meant.

There was no valley, there was no river, until suddenly there were and it was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.

There was a foreign tingling beneath her feet. She looked down to see grass. She breathed in the summer breeze.

She turned back to see that the buildings were clear and straight. Colours lined paths that had appeared. Flowers.

She cried tears that shone in the sunlight and cast rainbows in her vision.

“Let’s keep marching.” The raven flew before her. She followed silently, too overwhelmed to speak.

It showed her the library, where the people travelled without leaving their seat. It showed her the school where their children learned about olden things. It showed her all kinds of things that amazed her.

“Where did these come from? There was only sand.”

“From my memories. From a distant past.”

Her feet had brought her at the foot of the skyscraper. An ominous building blocked the sunlight at its base. It was short and stout, longer in width than the others.

“What’s in there?”

“It has many names. Romans called it an amphitheater. Modern humans called it a stadium. They watched people fight in there for entertainment."

She craned her neck but was stopped.

"Don’t look yet. You’ll know soon enough.”

Without another word, they started the climb towards the top. Towards the azure.

She did not mind not knowing. She had come to know so much already. Her mind wandered back to her surroundings. “Who enjoys all these things?”

“No one anymore.” The raven looked down from where it lead the way. “Humans feel too strongly. Joy and happiness and despair. They feel these all too strongly, so they decided to eradicate their feelings.”

“But all these beautiful things, how can they live without appreciating them?”

“You’re kind has been around for a long time, and did what they believed best to become stronger and lead easier, more fulfilling lives. The carved rivers and moved mountains. They made advancements: fire, electricity, and intelligent beings like me.” He ruffled his feathers. “But they lost sight of themselves and were afflicted with despair, plagued by illnesses of the mind that incapacitated them. A despair that pushed entire generations to take their own lives. They decided to eradicate their feelings. Feelings are senseless, illogical. It did not improve your kind. That is what they thought.”

“And what do you think?”

“They are more dead than you. They willingly severed their humanity and look how they regret it.” He gestured towards their surroundings. “They need feelings—it is their entertainment—which is why they brought you here.”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you know what an idiom is?”

“No.”

“It’s an abstract expression people in the olden days used. Say, to wear one’s heart on one’s sleeve, for example.”

“What does it mean?”

“To show genuine emotion. That is why you are here.”

Her hands went to the pendant around her neck. Her heart, she was wearing it. She held it in her palms.

“This?”

“People outside still need emotions from time to time. They bring you girls here.

“Why are there only girls like me?”

The bird landed on the edge of the roof and stared down at death.

“Young girls your age are predisposed to feelings. Your entire lives you were starved of emotions, locked up and unexposed to anything. That way the smallest stimulus triggers intense feelings they can collect.”

She laughed softly. “I think I understand now. I will live all this instead of the people outside. Then I will die and they will be able to feel the same way.”

She approached the ledge and looked down.

A pit of young girls. All like her. White gowns and loose hair. Piled on top of each other. The setting sun shone over them, lighting sparks of ruby red over their lifeless bodies. That was the stout building at the base.

She looked down at her neck. Her own heart shone.

“Don’t you resent them?”

She shook her head. “I pity them, the people outside my head. They made this. They will never feel any of this. There is beauty in ephemeral things, there is beauty in death. It is because you love something that it hurts, and not hurting means not loving.”

They were hard words. She was a small, frail thing. Something this world did not deserve.

“You are a curious one.”

“No, my name was supposed to be unfortunate, but I was very fortunate in this lifetime. It’s alright. I have to die again.

“And what was your name?”

“Mallory.”

“I will remember you, Mallory”

She stepped towards the ledge. The void called to her. She looked back at the raven, looked up at the sky one last time. “I guess this is goodbye.”

The raven looked down. Her fall lasted longer than the others. She was a flurry of hair and white gown. A hint of a smile amongst it all.

~

The audience applauded, fresh and rosy cheeked. Their mouths curved into strange smiles, rusty from lack of practice.

They rose up from their seats and wobbled towards the exit, torn apart between staying in the lingering feeling of peace or returning to their monotonous lives. They threw the little pendants in the trash bin. Parts of her heart.

They whispered amongst themselves; it had been an unusual showing.

“What was her name again? I’m starting to forget.”

“Who knows? Her emotions are fading as well. It’s for the better. Feelings are not productive.”

A strange frown appeared on the man’s face.

“How unfortunate.”