The Locket

As I stand here waiting for the final strike, I'm reminded of how much we deserve this. It wasn't God or the Devil or Mother Earth who did us in. It was us. Humankind. Our collective indifference, entitlement, and pure selfishness destroyed us. The ones who were watching decided our time was up and they would reset this place. Start over. Clean slate. I have no doubt they will succeed where we have failed. And I can hardly blame them. Humans are the worst.

The heart-shaped locket around my neck is all I have left of my beautiful boy. He was one of the lucky few who were taken with the first round along with the animals. I like to imagine he was oblivious when it happened... smiling and being his happy self, enjoying the sunshine on his face. But I know that is not true. He was taken when the bright lights flashed across the sky and the deafening screeches echoed across the world as I frantically tried to reach him.

I replay the last time I heard his voice over and over in my head. Sometimes I dream of that last phone call. It feels real, like I'm trapped in that moment forever, both happy to hear his sweet voice and sad because I'm hyperaware that it’s the end... but I don't want it to end. "Don't worry, Mom. It'll be okay. Just hurry home. I love you."

If only I were there that day instead of going to work. If only I had made it home sooner when we received the first alerts. If only I had taken a different route instead of getting stuck in the deadlocked traffic of panicking humans. So many 'if only's. In all honesty, none of us stood a chance.

That day, I learned what being completely gutted feels like. My heart was ripped from my chest, leaving nothing but an empty, agonizing heart-shaped hole. I tried to end my life so I could join him somehow, but those of us who remained were unable to do so. Not from lack of trying but no matter what we did, we could not die. Oh, we could feel the pain alright, but somehow our souls would not leave our broken bodies and we just stayed. This was our punishment, to feel complete heartbreak and hopelessness with no end in sight. The ones who were watching made sure we understood why.

Remember those bums on the street who begged for money, and you avoided eye contact as you hurriedly walked past? Yeah, those were tests. You know how we used to cancel culture someone for mistakes they made and tried to destroy their lives with social media? How about those stupid little spats with your loved ones that made you dig in your stubborn heels and refuse to budge or apologize? The time you didn't answer the phone to talk down a depressed friend because you didn't want to deal with their drama? Remember the times you chose to spend your paycheck on a new pair of Italian leather loafers or a Louis Vuitton wallet instead of helping the less fortunate in even the tiniest way? Yep, those were more tests. We were self-centered, self-serving, and hateful to each other. You see, they tried to give us chances at redemption but most of us refused to take the bait. We chose wrong.

We could not delete our history or apologize enough. It was a done deal. They had been watching us all along, judging and letting us wreck ourselves. We were an insufferable species and did more harm than good to the Universe. We took more than we gave. We made no excuses. We just had to go... well, at least this group did. None of us saw this coming. We were all blind to the truth, unable to see the damage we caused. I don't think any of us thought it would come to this while we were leading our ridiculously egocentric lives.

Those first few days were chaotic, confusing, and humbling. Immediately following the first wave, it was Hell on Earth. No one knew what had happened. Apocalypse or Rapture? Were the Zombies coming next? We all tried to figure it out. The typical looting and rioting occurred as it does whenever a lack of police presence is noticeable. Stoners got extra stoned. Conspiracy theorists headed for the mountains. But no one died.

On the third day, the ones who were watching broadcasted to our televisions and radios and informed us of their plan. There would be no government rescue or protection. The military was not deployed. The President didn't give a State of the Union address. No emergency services or directions on where to go for help were offered. None of these exist anymore.

Most of the remaining stayed in our homes hoping to awaken from the nightmare. Some gathered in public places trusting in "safety in numbers" and mistakenly believing that we had a chance to counterattack. A few strong-minded folks attempted to form alliances and militias only to quickly fail due to our unchangeable propensity to control one another. A lot of people turned to God and begged for forgiveness. But God did not answer.

On the fifth day, we lost our means of communication, transportation, water, and power. And strangely enough, somehow all our weapons had disappeared into thin air. All of them. Guns, knives, arrows, any sharp, pointy object, missiles, nukes... gone. We would not be fighting back. There would be no Resistance. Terrified, we waited for the end to come.

I had spent those first days, before we were rounded up, crying and wondering why we had let it get so bad, and why we must pay the ultimate price. We are just human after all, a flawed design from the start. I reminisced about the good old days when people were nicer... then quickly realized that they never really were. I drank all the wine in the house, ate all the cookies, cried some more, talked to my son who wasn't even there, and looked through photo albums, desperate to imprint every memory onto my soul.

I rummaged through my jewelry box and found a heart-shaped locket that I had put away for special occasions. It was a Mother's Day gift from my sweet boy the year he turned 11. He had saved up all his allowance to buy it, graduating from the days of crayons and construction paper. The picture he chose was one of me and him on our first trip to the ocean. It was the most magical time of my life and keeping it close to my heart somehow fills the hole he left behind. The inscription reads, "My Huckleberry Friend", from 'Moon River' his favorite lullaby when he was still a toddler. I slept in his bed, trying desperately to will him back to me... until they came for us. Clutching the locket tightly now makes me smile, even in the face of doom.

My amazing son, brilliant, funny, loving, courageous... with a radiant kindness that all are drawn to and that I, as his mother, can only marvel at... is gone. Gone to the place where the truly innocent and benevolent were taken. They are the ones who will be salvaged and brought back from their temporary homes in a distant galaxy to rebuild Planet Earth. My wonderful, optimistic boy who believes in the goodness of others, cries when bugs were squashed, stands up for classmates being bullied, and spends every allowance he receives on others will be one of the chosen who goes on to help create a Utopia.

We could never have done this on our own. The ones who were watching were clear that they had no hope for most humans. They had watched us destroy, murder, pillage, and plunder since the beginning of time and there was no end in sight to our depravity. Humans had proven a complete disappointment to the rest of the Universe and our fate was decided. This was the only way.

Those of us who remain are to suffer mass annihilation to pay for what we have done to ourselves. Sadly, we have all accepted our fate as the countdown begins. Some pray, some cry, some commit last-minute sins because why not. It is surreal and frightening but feels justified.

Love is pain. To love someone more than you love yourself is the most incredible feeling but also the most devastating. Nevertheless, no physical sensation can ever rival the strength and intensity of human emotion. Not having my son with me as I creep towards certain death is more painful to my soul than any torture they can inflict upon my shell.

After all the days of living with absolute fear and regret, I am ready for this to end. I've made peace with my fate. I wait for the blast, closing my eyes tightly as a tear rolls down my cheek and think "I'm glad he isn't here to see this". And I choose to focus on the good I have done. Just because I've done bad things doesn't mean I'm a bad person. The tangible proof is my child who encompasses all the good things that they see worthy of passing on to New Earth. I created him, I influenced him, I taught him how to be a good person. I did that! Me!

At this moment, I am so incredibly proud that he will be one of the pioneers of this new world. I hope that he remembers me with love and happiness. I hope that he remembers every sacrifice I ever made for him. And I hope he knows that I may not have been perfect, but he was my perfection. I envision him as a grown man falling in love, creating a family of his own and I smile. As the air is sucked out of my lungs and my skin begins to burn, I remember holding him the very first time and I know that my life truly began right then, right there. As I'm fading, I feel him in my heart. I feel all the love I have ever given returned in one giant, soul-crushing wave and I smile… still holding onto my locket, waiting for release.