(Mis)Information Wars

I close my eyes and the flashes of life from before start reeling through my mind.

I can almost hear the hum of the A/C and the T.V. playing some late-night talk show while the rest of the family drifts to sleep.

Life was so much simpler before, but even then, sleep never came easy.

I start to count the days like I do every night.

Day 1: the day the war broke out.

Day 2: the day we went into hiding.

We hid in our house, laying low and keeping lights out. My parents told us to hide if anyone ever came to the house. I heard them talk in whispers that night. I wanted to know what they were saying but I was too scared to leave my room.

Day 3: the day I watched my parents get strangled to death as I hid in the closet peeking through the cracks, unable to look away from the horror of their murder.

I’m not sure why they were killed. I’m not sure there was a reason at all. Everyone seemed so full of hate and anger. That afternoon, two men dressed casually pulled into the driveway in their self-driving car. My dad worked for a tech company - I’m not sure which one. He always said they’re all the same anyhow. I assumed he knew these men from work since they already had their built-in receptors on their wrists. My dad was scheduled for his surgery next week. Maizy and I quickly tucked ourselves away inside the hall closet. The men rang the doorbell and dad answered. They shook hands and made small talk. Suddenly, their demeanor shifted. They were asking for some passwords. When my dad refused to tell them, one of the men quickly grabbed my dad's wrists and held him motionless while the other strangled him with ease. Their movements were smooth and efficient, almost robotic. I watched the life drain from my father's eyes and then his body went limp. My mother was whimpering softly and I saw her eyes dart over to the closet where Maizy and I hid. I swear I heard her say “run, run to Linda’s”. But I could be fooling myself. Before I knew it, the house was silent. We stayed in the closet all night, too stunned to move.

Day 4: the day we ran, Maizy and I.

We just ran towards the sea. It was probably a bad idea but what else could we do? Besides, Aunt Linda lived down by the coast and she always seemed to know what to do. She always seemed both full of chaotic energy and at peace with the unknown. It’s hard to describe her awkward charisma but I always felt safe when we visited her and safety is what I craved.

Day 5: the day we hardly moved.

Our adrenaline was dissipating and our legs grew heavier by the minute. We hid in an old shopping mall, long since abandoned and filled with vermin. we did manage to crack open a vending machine and packed as many snacks as we could carry. Amazingly enough, the old mattress store still had a mattress inside. We slept good and hard, our bellies full of cookies and honey buns.

Day 6: the day we had hope.

As we walked down the highway, we finally saw the sign: Emerald Isle 126 miles. A long way but doable. We had water purifying tablets, good shoes and plenty of hostess cakes to make the trip. We hadn’t heard gunshots in hours and Maizy started to sing again. I don’t think she had sung since before the war. I used to despise her incessant singing, humming and whistling but there was no doubt she was gifted. She carried a tune better than I carried my backpack. On this day, day 6, her singing didn’t bother me. I joined in from time to time. We had hope and we walked. Sometimes we would spot a lizard scrambling away and play games trying to catch it.

Day 7: the day I lost Maizy.

It’s amazing how you can be so full of hope one day and so utterly crushed the next. We had set up camp in a rest area. There were a few other trekkers we stayed far away from. We had made a pact- trust no one, speak to no one, ever. Not even aunt Linda. At least not until we both were sure she was safe. The war had divided people but it wasn’t always clear which side people were on. I almost envy the wars of olden days when the enemy was clearly defined by a border. Now, when even the exact cause of the war still baffled me, it seemed someone could be your friend one day and your enemy the next. Even family meant nothing.

So, when I woke up and didn’t see Maizy, I knew it must be a bad dream. We had a pact. I’m a light sleeper when I manage to sleep at all. I called out to her. I checked the bathrooms, the tents nearby. I looked everywhere. We had tossed our cell phones long ago - I’m not tech savvy enough to know if all location tracking was disabled so we just tossed them. Most people had. The internet was useless now that it had been infiltrated. That’s part of what started it all. The internet now only spewed propaganda. You couldn’t trust anything. It was all one sided and a subtle form of brain washing. People lashed out. They rebelled. And everything went up in flames.

I blinked back tears as waves of nausea swept over me. I lost my parents and now Maizy? I had nothing left to lose. Her pack still lay on the ground where we slept, still smelling like her. I condensed her pack with mine and I knew I had to keep going. She wasn’t there and likely hadn’t been for hours.

Day 8-10: the searching days.

I spent three days quietly searching the area walking in an outward spiral. My walking pattern reminded me of making cinnamon rolls with mom and Maizy. The sweet smell of cinnamon and sugar would fill the kitchen. Maizy never was any good at baking - her attention span was too short. Life before wasn’t perfect by any means but it seems like the good memories are all I can conjure up anymore.

Day 11 – the day I continued onward.

I couldn’t waste any more time. I thought the coastal towns were still safe but with no internet and no one to trust, it’s hard to say how long that would hold true - if it ever was true. So, I headed east again watching for lizards, singing quietly to myself and probably not being as cautious as I should have been.

Day 12 - the day a glimmer of hope resurfaced.

I veered off the main road and had spent several hours walking alongside the river. The blacktop was too hot anymore. Around noon, when the sun was high in the sky, I noticed a glimmer of something reflective in the grass. Normally, I would’ve just kept walking. I’d passed all sorts of debris. Coins had virtually no value anymore unless they were pure silver. Instinctually, though, I bended down and discovered it wasn’t just more debris. It was Maizy's heart shaped locket! I still don’t know what this means but it gave me a glimmer of hope on that day. Even though it was empty inside, I knew it was hers because her initials were etched on the back. I always asked her why she didn’t put a picture inside and she said her heart always had room for more. If she put a picture inside, people might think her heart was full. It’s amazing how opposite we were. I put the locket around my neck. It fit snugly like a choker on me. I tucked the heart under my shirt and I walked on. Maizy might be out here.

Day 13 and 14 – the days I was on cruise control.

With Maizy's locket tightly wrapped around my neck, I cruised through the next two days covering a lot of ground. Now, I was closer than ever and the air was thick with humidity and tasted of salt. I was close.

Day 15: today.

I’m camped at the park nearby my aunt's house. I’m counting the days so I remember. I want to remember everything. It’s strange how before seems so long ago and also so very recent. I’m still unconvinced I’m not living in one terrible dream. I don’t know what I hope to find at my aunt's house but at least Emerald Isle seems almost untouched by the war. It’s calm, quiet and the children still play on the playground. Their parents shuffled them away last night as the sun set. I set up camp when they left and started my count.

Now, before I’ve even fallen asleep, the sun starts to rise. ‘Maybe I’ll sleep at aunt Linda’s’ I think to myself. I can’t stay here, that’s for sure. I rub the heart shaped locked the way someone might rub a rabbit's foot, slowly wrap my belongings up in my pack, drink some water and break my fast with another sickly-sweet honey bun. I walk one block and there it is. My safe haven - or so I hope.