The Left Behinds

June 26th, Year Unknown. Country Unknown. Place Unknown.

‘I don’t know how long I have been walking for, nor do I know why I travelled in this direction. All that I have with me is my worn down backpack, a dodgy memory and a rusty heart shaped locket that I have carried with me for as long as I can remember. What I do know, is that I need to take shelter, hunker down, so that they can’t chase me. Who is they? I hear you ask. I couldn’t tell you. All I know is they have been relentlessly chasing me for three nights now and I need some sleep.

They’ve been chasing me since I entered the outskirts of this dilapidated village. No more maps exist, they were gathered and destroyed long ago, but I have the feeling that I am drawing nearer to the remains of one of the great cities. Maybe, after all this time, it is the city I have been searching for. Although I don’t know why. I wander aimlessly through the sand covered streets, with a dull humming following me as I move house to house searching for a spot to lie down. Four streets in, I find one of the only houses still standing, although that’s oversimplifying things. I step through the blown out wall and examine the remains of what once might’ve been a happy family home in the ‘burbs.

Light filtered through the damaged walls, and the kicked up dust dances in the afternoon breeze that blows through the shattered window. The paint is peeling from the wall like a blister that’s been left in the sun for too long. Crumbled, twisted metal skeletons of furniture long since destroyed by the elements litters the room, covered by inch thick dust. Cans and scraps long left untouched are scattered amongst the ruins of what was once someone’s lounge room. ‘They shouldn’t find me here’ I think as I climb through the twisted wreckage of a steel door.

As I pick my way through the remnants of this family’s life, the dull humming reverberates from the walls enclosing their memories into this tomb. I find my way down a long hallway and reach for the nearest door. I grasp the knob, twisting. It’s locked. I try another, also locked. I take a few more steps down the hall, my footsteps dully bouncing back at me from the walls and I reach out for the handle one more time. It opens into the only intact room in the house. As I walk over the threshold, a dull blue light bounces around, illuminating the previously dark room. ‘I really wished it hadn’t.’ Whilst the room was untouched by the outside world, on the inside, was ... a nursery.

Baby blue blankets lay neatly folded on the bassinet, as unblemished as the day they were placed there. A line of teddies stare at me from the dresser, their dull little black eyes reflecting the blue and my shadow back at me. The longer I look, the less will I have to move. I don’t dare cross the threshold, I can’t, cross that threshold. I... I think I see something. A lump begins forming in my throat. Maybe the dull blue light is playing tricks on my eyes?

I can’t take it anymore. I turn away, grabbing the handle and pulling the door shut. Feeling a wave of depression crash over me, I step away and glass crunches underfoot. I pull my foot back, and kneel down. I pick up the broken family photo I just stood on. All smiling, all with genuine happiness oozing from their faces. Again, a wave of depression crashes over me as I drop the photo and stomp my way down the hallway. As the depression sinks in, that uncontrollable rage begins to rise. I clench my fists. My mouth begins to dry. I try everything I can to stop myself, but I can’t. I pivot and throw a punch at the hallway wall. As my fist connects, and a piece of the wall falls down, the anger manages to beat me.

“Why am I alone?” I ask aloud. I reach into my pocket and pull that rusty old heart shaped locket out and turn begin turning it over in my hand. As the sad realisation sinks in, I just get madder and madder. “Why do I have no one in my life?” Another wave of anger and depression crashes over me. I clutch the locket tighter. “Why can’t I remember WHO. I. AM?” I scream before throwing the locket in frustration. My anger turns to horror as I watch it sail through the air. Straight towards a brick wall. I drop to my knees and can do nothing but wince as it hits the wall, bounces and dully falls to the ground.

The old battered locket barely makes a noise. Unable to pick myself up, I just stare in disbelief at my stupidity. I eventually sigh, before picking myself up and hobbling over to pick up that damned heart shaped locket. As my hand extends out, brushing the edge, the fading sunlight catches it. It’s open, wait. What? After all this time, can it be? I hold my breath as I bring it to my face.

The old, weathered latch was finally freed up from the wall. My hands shake with anticipation, as I soak in the pictures staring back at me. Smiling strangers look back at me. I recognize myself in the pictures. The others though? Are these my family? Friends? Who are these people to me I wonder. I rub my thumb over the pictures and one falls out of the locket. There is an engraving

“Illis quos amo deserviam”. For those I love I will sacrifice. I have no idea how I understand those words, or recognise the quote as latin, but it doesn’t matter. Those faces smiling back at me, they are what matters. They are my purpose, I know it. “I must find them” I say aloud, despite being alone in the ruins of this house. The hot sun beats down relentlessly, barely stifling my rising sense of purpose. I lean down to pick up the picture of me and a young woman. We’re both beaming, bright eyed, so full of hope. “Who are you?” I ponder “What do you mean to me?” I turn the photo round looking on the back. Nothing. I stare at that face, taking in every detail I can, as I wait for the clouds to blow in.

I sigh, and close my eyes, before standing up and extending my arm. My floating guide whizzes towards me, and I feel a dull slap against my palm. “Did you save that as today’s journal entry?” I ask dully, barely containing my sadness. My guide cheerfully beeps back at me almost sounding pleased with itself. I hastily stuff it back inside my coat, before standing up. I pause.

As I begin to stretch, I hear a noise. Nearby. The sounds of rubble being moved around. Shit! They’ve found me. I scoop my bag up and in one swift motion throw it over my shoulder as I begin to bound towards the door. I can’t let them grab me now. I have just realised my purpose in this journey. They can’t take this from me, no matter the cost. I’ve just found something to hope for. Something that may be waiting for me at the end of this journey.