Eve

Evelina Sanchez blinked her ice blue eyes open and groaned as a loud musical alarm blared. Her head hurt from contraband bottles of champagne and too much reckless behavior for a Wednesday night. She reached for her pillow and pulled it down over head, the weight of the soft, dense down soothing against her throbbing temples, dampening the noise. The sun shone through the wide-open window, creating floating shadows of leaves and tracing patterns of light to dark across the floor. A breeze blew inside, gently fluttering the sheer white curtains.

The offending noise was coming from the pocket of her denim jeans lying crumpled on the ground next to her bed. Groaning again, Eve tossed the pillow aside and groped blindly amongst the pile of clothes for her phone. “PILL” flashed across the screen; a daily reminder permanently set in her phone. She roughly dropped it back to the floor and grabbed for the pillow again, desperately trying to block out the reality of awakening. After a few minutes, she jerked the pillow aside and pushed herself upright.

“Well, guess I’m up” she said out loud to no one, her voice filled with annoyance. Eve was used to living by herself, but had developed a habit of talking to herself just to break the stillness. She reached to her bedside table and grabbed the orange pill bottle, shook one onto her palm and swallowed it quickly without water.

She stretched her long limbs, swung her legs around to meet the floor, and begrudgingly stood up, pushing her cream-colored bedsheets to the end of her bed. She walked naked across the bedroom of her mobile home to the small bathroom- another perk of living alone, she thought, was the freedom to be naked as often as she desired.

Eve turned on the shower, letting the hot steam fill the small space. Climbing in, she rolled the glass door shut behind her and let her mind wander as she washed her long black hair. Her shampoo smelled like coconut and reminded her of the seaside where she spent her youth, tan legs running endlessly along the shore. She longed for that feeling of freedom again- maybe that’s what she was always chasing- the high of complete carefree bliss she had as a child growing up half costal, half island.

Letting the warm water run across her back, her hands reached mindlessly to her neck and the heart-shaped locket she never took off, turning it over and over in her fingers, feeling the pattern of smooth metal and rough edges. The locket was a gift from her grandmother; it had a weight to it that made it feel powerful; and the roses engraved in the thick bronze seemed both timeless and ancient.

“Soft yet rough, just like Abuela,” she thought, “just like me.”

Her grandmother was from the Island; her Abuela Evelyn whom she was named after. The strongest woman she had known. Small but tough; quick-witted and wise. Her clear blue eyes could see right through you, as if able to read a person’s soul with just a gaze. Her whole life Eve felt her grandmother was the only one who every really saw her and felt connected to her in a way she couldn’t quite put into words.

Maybe it was because she had inherited those same eyes- bright ocean blue, clear and sharp. Always watching, always searching for truth or lies or injustice or love. Her Abuela Evelyn was a truth-seeker, and she had a way of making it come out; maybe because she had a warmness that covered everyone she met. No one wanted to let her down. Though she had her grandmother’s keen eyes, Eve’s lacked the warmth. Hers had a dark edge to them, jaded from years of disappointment, hurt and loneliness. The loneliness eventually turned to savageness, and Eve saw the world with a sharp mistrust.

When the virus hit Costa Rosa, her childhood home, everything changed. The coast was hit the first and the hardest. She remembered watching helplessly as the rash covered her parents’ skin- red blotches tracing patterns of veins and broken blood vessels. Eve remembered the panic and fear in everyone’s eyes- Her mother, expecting twin babies due in just two months. Her father, always so big and strong- the protector of the family- weak and helpless to save his pregnant wife or his young daughter.

She remembered the day the team was sent in to gather the children. They arrived at her doorstep, large and looming in head-to-toe white suits and oxygen masks. The virus was thought to be contracted through the air, but no one was certain of touch contamination. Eve remembered clinging to her mother’s swollen belly- the red patterns reaching halfway across to her bellybutton. She remembered screaming when the team in white tried to escort her away. She remembered her mother’s voice- soft and tired telling her it was time to let go.

“Eve” she said firmly but quietly, “Evelina, it’s time for you to go. Don’t worry about us. The doctors are coming to take care. You’ll see. You need to go where you can be safe now, Eve. Be safe so no one has to worry.”

“Mama no!” she cried, tears streaming out of her eyes soaking her flushed cheeks, “Papa!”

The team in white grabbed her again, more forcefully this time, and pulled her away from her parents. Eve remembered kicking and screaming all the way to the bus, already filled with her classmates and peers- every child in the area loaded with only the clothes on their backs.

She remembered watching as the bus pulled away from her town- watching as her life became nothing more but a black dot and a memory. She cried herself to sleep, slouched up against the hard plastic wall, her black hair tangled and matted with salt.

And that was the last time Eve ever cried.

Eve thought about what life might have been like if she had been taken to one of the industrial PODS. Her town was in an early phase of relocation, and she and her classmates from Costa Rosa were sent inland to one of the small towns that was locked down with strict quarantine protocols. She barely spoke to anyone the first six months she was there.

It had become quickly apparent that this was harder on adults than children, and as the virus ravaged the nation, more practical relocation plans were in desperate demand. This resulted in the creation of various districts across the nation, the largest being the Eastern PODS. Thousands of orphaned children were sent to live in group homes where they lived and attended school until they turned 17 and entered the working world.

Now, the PODs were referred to as the Industrial District, producing all of the manufactured goods for the others- generic, plain-packaged foods, toiletries and supplies. These items were shipped out in exchange for other goods provided by the neighboring districts. But no people came, and no people left.

Aside from the PODs, there was the agricultural district in the south. Similarly, to Eve’s district, they were able to quarantine before the virus hit and as a result 10% of the adults survived, as opposed to the standard 1% in the other districts. They expanded on the already fertile farmland and built communal farms that streaked the countryside. The orphaned children were taken in by other families or teenagers who survived, and everyone worked together to produce the food and crops that would eventually be traded with the industrial district.

Eve’s new home was in one of the smaller sub-districts, not really part of the industrial or agricultural worlds. These small towns were spread across the land, laid out like freckles on the map. Though there had been no new cases of the virus in 8 years, people had still retained a distant lifestyle. There was little travel, as each district was heavily guarded, and no one was allowed in without proper documentation. She had spent the years from 8 to 18 relatively alone, growing up quickly amongst the silence and solitude. She attended school and had made friends, but the walls guarding her heart were formidable, and she didn’t care to let anyone in.

For these 10 years after the virus, the remaining population took daily pills, mandated by the government. By the time the pills were developed, most of the adults were already dead. After the terror of watching entire families, communities and generations disappear, those who survived took the pills without resistance, for fear of a resurgence. However, life remained irrevocably changed; the scars it left were profound and deep- the kind that time couldn’t seem to erase.

Shaking her head hard she broke free from her daze. The once-hot water was creeping to a tepid state, and she realized she had been in the shower far longer than intended. Eve cranked the water off and reached outside the glass door to grab her plush blue towel. She patted off her body and squeezed the water out of her long hair, wrapping a second towel around her head.

After drying off, she slipped into a sheer black robe she had left hanging over the back of a chair, the cool silk soft and smooth on her skin. She padded quietly to the kitchen and poured a cup of coffee, still distracted with memories of her grandmother. Her hand found the locket again as she sat at the table, legs curled up beneath her, consumed with thought of this new world she had lived in for so long, yet still seemed so foreign.

It wasn’t like Eve to allow herself to feel, and she immediately regretted it. Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling things were happening for a reason. Like there was something she was meant to discover. Like maybe there was some purpose to her life after all.

Little did she know, across the trees and countryside, another girl her age sat in her own district, consumed with her own memories of grandmothers and childhood. Another girl with feelings she couldn’t quite shake, looking for reasons and answers to questions she didn’t even know yet. Another girl with the very same locket.