Someday

The world used to be beautiful, or so I’ve been told. That’s kind of hard to imagine when all I’ve seen for the past twenty years has been nothing but smog and dust. Something happened long ago, but nobody, not even The Olden, is really sure what. All we know is that there was some type of explosion a few centuries ago that basically decimated huge land masses along with the people and animals living on them. The Olden call it “The Great Pyre” because it consumed everything around it. No one has ever questioned them since they are the oldest members of our society, they must know what they’re talking about. As for me, I’m pretty sure it was a bomb that went off. I read about them in the library where I work, but nobody ever listens to me.

Everyone in our new society has a role. I know there are neighboring cities that have a similar way of life, but we don’t make it a habit to travel unless it’s absolutely necessary. We’ve developed rules here to keep everyone safe, or so they say, but I’m not sure other cities have evolved yet. From what I’ve heard, some other communities are completely barbaric and have no morals. I don’t know what to believe, but the knowledge might not be worth the risk.

I live in Scoria, a mining city in what used to be known as North America. My dad works in the mines, he’s worked there for as long as I can remember. He digs and lugs and tells other people to do the same. My mom works in the Hall of Memorial, where you can find all sorts of historical artifacts from the days before The Great Pyre, such as old letters, boxes, pottery, and odd devices. I used to love going there when I was little. Thats where I found it, my necklace.

I still remember the day I found my necklace. I must have been about five or six years old. I was helping my mom sort through some old things one day and I found a small wooden box with a broken lock. I looked inside and found a beautiful heart-shaped locket in it. The heart itself was dark blue with silver trimming around it hanging from a dainty silver chain. I tried to open the locket, but it was stuck. I wanted to keep it more than anything, but I was so sure my mom wouldn’t let me since she’d have to keep record of it. Oddly enough when I showed it to her she must have seen the pleading in my eyes. She smiled at me as she knelt down and whispered in my ear “I think you should keep it.” I squealed in excitement and hugged her leg. I’ve been wearing it ever since. I’m not sure who it belonged to, but I thank them for leaving it behind for me to find. It’s the only thing that’s comforted me all these years.

I’ve worked at the old library for a while now. Everyone tells me I should have gone to work with my mother. Working in the Hall of Memorial has always been very prestigious, everyone knows my mom, but that’s never been for me. I can’t imagine simply touching all that history and knowing nothing about it. At least here in the library I have hundreds of books I can read through to actually learn about all the people that came before me. I feel like I am able to better connect with them when I read their stories, like they’re speaking to me through the pages.

Our buildings are old, some of them have fallen over the years, but we are still getting by. We receive food and supplies once a week from a city a few miles east that has rich soil for farming. As a mining city we don’t know much about farming, so it’s a beneficial partnership. They supply us with food and we supply them with minerals.

Our day-to-day life is pretty mundane if I’m being honest. I keep hoping that someday things change, but they haven’t yet. We live, we work, we survive. I know I shouldn’t complain, but sometimes it’s hard to feel hopeful when everything is the same. We are told what to do and when to do it for the sake of the city as a whole. We have curfews and Watchers posted all around the city. If you’re found out after dark you could get arrested. That happened to a good friend of mine a year ago. He left the mines late and was walking back home after dark. The Watchers arrested him on the spot. He was released a few days later, but just in those few days he told me how decrepit the living conditions inside the cells were. People crying, begging to be released, rats thriving in the darkness, stale bread, and a few sips of water once or twice a day.

It’s hard, but I still feel hopeful that someday things will get better. Maybe someday we won’t be afraid to venture out into the world. Someday we might be able to go outside in the darkness to enjoy all the little lights called “stars” in the sky without fear of being persecuted for simply walking. I don’t know when or if that will ever happen, but that thought is the only thought that keeps me going.

My parents tell me to make the most of the life we live, but it’s not that simple for me. We have everything we need, yet we still lack so much as a human society. We lack knowledge, truth, and ambition. We simply exist. I want better for us. I look up at the sky and wander off into the past where people were happy, at least I hope they were happy. People were not afraid of tomorrow. Who knows, maybe they were, maybe they weren’t. The sad part is we’ll never know. The old ways are lost, but I still have hope.

This necklace is the one thing I have left of the world before me. It’s my greatest treasure. It wasn’t until a few years ago that I realized just how special it was. That’s when I knew this necklace was meant for me. I’ve worn it every single day since I first found it, but one day as I picked it up to put it on, I accidentally dropped it and it fell to the floor. To my surprise it didn’t shatter, instead the blue heart popped open to reveal a hidden compartment inside. I was never able to get it open before that. As I picked it up to take a closer look I noticed there was a tiny piece of paper folded into a small square. I unfolded the paper ever so gently and found a single word written on it in faded ink.

This piece of paper is why I continue to be hopeful for our future. Without it I have nothing to hold on to in this dark world. One word I repeat to myself time and time again. One word that could change the fate of humanity. One simple word.

“Someday”