Heart of Disaster

After the last bomb fell, the remnants of humanity crawled out of the rubble to begin a new life. Burns, growths, birth defects, and early death due to radiation poisoning became accepted as part of the struggle to survive. The government leaders were gone, presumed to be hidden in an underground bunker. The military had deserted the irradiated areas, leaving behind the poor and homeless who had not been evacuated.

Only a few were left. Most had succumbed to sickness. Forty years had passed since the nuclear bombs had spread their cloud of radioactive dust across the American landscape. Nature was reclaiming the cities, creeping vegetation grew inside the rundown buildings, the roofs having fallen in long ago. Trees grew from the middle of the crumbling ruins. There was no power, no running water, and attempts at farming were pitiful at best. Some were able to hunt and shared the meat of deer and other animals who also were affected by the radiation. Mutations had begun. Children were stillborn or with limbs twisted or missing. Thirty and forty year olds were considered elderly, aging rapidly, bodies bending from the hard life.

A few adults and children had found a small amount of safety on the outer edges of the city. There was shelter in an old storefront, windows long gone but the walls still standing. Two young girls, both balding, tufts of hair here and there on their pink scalps, played next to a wall, The grayed paint bubbled and peeling, revealing the rotting and molded wood underneath. One of them, the larger girl, was peeling off pieces and flecks of the paint without thought, just repeating the motions of picking and pulling. She felt her fingers push into a small hole. Looking, she saw that there was something in the hole. She began to try to make it bigger, until she found a rusted box about 4 inches wide and two inches tall. Taking it out carefully, she brushed off the patina of filth, gently opening it to reveal a pristine glistening heart-shaped locket with a long golden chain. Astonished at the beauty of the necklace, she slid it over her bare head.

In a world that had become so ugly, she had found something that was perfect. Tears filled her eyes, it was as if she had been given a gift, the first real thing she had ever received. Her sister stared open mouthed, holding her mangled right hand out to touch the gold heart. Unable to speak, she could only grunt as she smiled. Both looked around furtively, afraid that someone would see. The wearer slid the necklace into her tattered dress, hiding it's luster from those who would take it from her. In this new world that was created by disaster, greed and theft had grown to be the rule. The strong stole from the weak.

She heard one of the elders call and she helped her sister stand and both limped their way to the other room. A fire crackled as a thin stew bubbled in a pot hanging over it. Being careful to not touch her chest or give away her new secret, the child sat down to eat, her stomach rumbling even though the ever present nausea and weakness remained. Later, lying on a stained decades old mattress. She allowed herself to hold her prize. Smiling, she closed her eyes. During the night, her breathing stopped. Her body cooling as her hand still clutched the locket. Her sibling became aware of her passing, stealing a glance so as not to be discovered, and took the prize for herself.

The next morning, after the dead girl had been removed, the new owner of the golden locket was seated next to a wall, slowly peeling away the layers, hoping to find another piece of a past without ruin.