the island

Everything was dark. Not the type of dark when you wake up in the middle of the night and your light is off, more like the dark aura when you’re crying on your bed with your face pressed into your knees and your arms wrapped tightly around your legs. The little black book was controlling people’s lives. It started out normal, you know, the whole ‘you must not kill people’ and ‘you must not hurt another’ just your average laws, then they started getting a little weird, ‘you must not walk on the streets for more that 10 minuets between 11pm and 5am’ and ‘you must not date someone if you’re under 13’ until eventually a new rule was added ‘members of the LGBTQ+ community MUST either attend therapy and get better with 6 months or serve prison time’ this rule shook EVERYONE! And that’s where our story begins.

The ringing off the alarm clock bounced around the room and two mouths opened wide in a yawn. It was Monday, the first day off the new law. Their plan was simple, play dumb and keep a low profile. Two girls got out of bed, greeted one another and went to go get dressed, phase one off the plan started, wear dresses. Neither of the girls acted nor looked ‘feminine’ so they acted as girly and as stereotyped as possible after all now they had to act like they were just roommates, nothing more. The looked at each other and both knew what the other was saying, but not a word was said. At 7am, Emma arrived at work, she smiled at all who walked by, but never once said a word more than ‘yes please’ ‘no thank you’ ‘two sugars please’ and ‘thankyou’ this couldn’t be her new life, she was more than this. Weeks went by and she had had enough. She made a new social media account and educated people on the history of the island how it was found and how it was started as a safe space for the LGBTQ+ community and how it was an escape. This completely blew up and that’s when her and her girlfriend started to rebel, thousands joined them as they held up signs with their sexualities, genders, pronouns, quotes and signs saying ‘save us’ and ‘love is love’.

5pm. “KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!” the door. “KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!” again, the door.

“OPEN UP!” Emma looked at Sophie in despair “hide” she whispered, “I love you.” The door crashed in like waves on a beach before Sophie even got the chance to take a step, they had guns… there was no getting away… They were grabbed and handcuffed, guns were held to their heads, they knew that one wrong move could end up in their death. Walking through the ever-growing crowd of people, they were stared at judgingly, faces white as sheet. Silence. “damn, was gonna have a bath today” Sophie chuckles at her own joke, “I smell, officer, don’t I smell” she chuckles again the officer jerked her forward sternly and simply just told her to shut up before tying her by her wrists to a bar in the vehicle with flashing lights. She faced the love of her life, she smiled, but Emma’s face stayed straight and stern.

After an hour of driving, the vehicle came to a stop. Journalists were crowding around them pushing through, intervening, asking questions quicker than a shotgun can fire. Supporters pushed through the crowds and tried pulling them from the arms of the guards but no luck. A gun was fired in the air and everyone fell back. they allowed them to enter. inside was dark, damp and silent. The sorrowed eyes of the prisoners watching the brave girls who fought for their rights and freedom have their own stripped from them like its nothing. Everyone watched, but no one said a word. “god this isn’t the welcome I expected.” Sophie said sarcastically, Emma glared at her and the smirk faded from her face. then, with a blink off the eye, they were separated and alone.

Days passed and inside was silent, dead. But outside, it was as loud as ever. People fighting and screaming and rioting for the freedom of the girls. Things burning and government buildings being stormed.

The book. It was the reason. It was all the books fault. Get rid of the book and… IF THEY BURENED THE BOOK… the islands most prized possession… BURN IT! Or at least threaten, IT WILL LEAVE THEM NO CHOICE!

The idea was shared across the people. They agreed. The book wasn’t highly protected, all the guards were focusing on the riots so that made the plan simple. Distract and go. Within an hour they had the book and were holding it above a flame, as they predicted, they were left with no choice. The girls were free. But they weren’t stopping there, the book HAD to burn. But this time, it was protected. We all know that when you make a mistake, next time you’ll have a better understanding of the situation. You learn from it. That’s basic knowledge taught in your young youth. And learn from it they did. The book was now in a safe. Guarded at every entrance. To get it back it wouldn’t be as easy as walk in smash a bit of glass and hurray you’re in! well done! Congratulations! You did it! No. not at all. They needed a plan. A good plan. Something unique unheard of smart. Something they wouldn’t expect. But still possible as everyone was normal people. They didn’t have masses of knowledge. Understanding of big machinery. No. but they had will, and incentive, it gave them a purpose. And another thing your taught as a kid, “if there’s a will there’s a way” we’ve already established the will. Now time for the way.

2 weeks passed. It was a big day. Every single little detail was planned, from the second they left the house, to burning the book. A day like no other. One to remember. Nobody could sleep that night, they all lay restless thinking about the plan. One where NOBODY got hurt and NOBODY got arrested. But now, they were here. THEY WERE READY, well, as ready as they’ll ever be. The power in the air could be sensed from miles away. The power of 20,000 people marching through the streets lead by two young women in love. But where there is power there are people wanting it as their own. Kind off like a hunter/pray situation, one has, other wants. Normally the “want” is the bad guy, and I guess, in this story, roles as such are based on the perspective you see things. There is no “good” or “evil” just hunters and prey. The rolls reverse vice versa but right now, in this situation, they were the prey, and the hunters? Were the government. Instead of calling the protests “prey” we could more say a resistance, a hope, a purpose, nevertheless they were goanna get hunted down and picked at until the resistance broke, until there was nothing that could be done. But who cares? They carry esteem and a strange light as they marched proudly to the books keeping, stage one. And that’s when it happened-

BANG. A gun fired. a tear sheds. A scream was heard.

But too Emma? Everything was dark.