The Pond

When the last billionaire left the planet, the air in the atmosphere had become thick with fumes of unidentified chemicals that fell heavy in the lungs. The dense air made life difficult; the remaining human beings of the planet all once had strong lungs that are now frail and darkened.

Seventy percent of the once fertile and lively land of the planet is now unusable. The chemicals that pollute the earth are radioactive in nature. I can't say I remember life before this. The ever-graying sky thickens every day, making it harder and harder for us to survive. But we are determined. After all, we are the last hope for this planet.

"Willow, we need you."

"I know. I'll be there in a second."

"That's what you said ten minutes ago."

I slowly get up from the floor, leaving behind my materials. I trudge towards the door because I don't want to get up. Tears build up in my eyes; the frustration of living like this is getting to me more and more every day. I don't want to stop what I'm doing, but I have duties. I know Rosalind and the village need me to cooperate.

"Willow, Please!" Rosalind said, exasperated.

"I'm coming," I say quickly before my voice breaks while wiping tears off my face.

Every morning I get up early to write in my journal and do a few sketches with whatever materials, charcoal, and mashed-up berries I can get my hands on. Both art materials and time are scarce nowadays, which is a shame. Humanity needs art now more than ever. It's hard to imagine a time before the atmosphere and water supplies were not polluted. But I have my journal. It's a comfort to be able to read back on the old days. It's a comfort to read about my mom.

Rosalind and I walk to the nearest pond. The waters are filthy; rotting dead fish float on the top. Remnants of another time float along with the fish -- unusable bottles and electronic devices and all sorts of junk I can't identify live here now.

I remember coming to this pond with my mother when I was younger. She taught me how to swim and float on the surface of the water while absorbing the warm sunshine. "My Willow tree," she would say, "grow big and strong with the sun." Then, we would share a laugh. I miss being her strong Willow tree.

"How's the writing and sketching going?" Rosalind asks, but I don't know if she is genuinely interested in the answer.

"Shhh!" I say, "You're going to get me in trouble."

"The Prioribus wouldn't do that to you."

"You don't know that," I say, worry creeping in my voice. "Rosie -"

"I told you not to call me that anymore."

"Roz," I sigh, correcting myself, "You promised."

"I know, I'm sorry," Roz says. "It's just that you're so talented. It's not fair that the arts are forbidden."

"I know. I just need to not get caught," I say, "and I need your help with that. I can't have you ask me about my art so loudly when we're close to the village."

When Rosalind and I reach the filthy pond, we assume we're safe from all prying ears and eyes. This morning it is only the two of us, which is unusual and exciting; normally, we're sent for the water with a group, which means we have to be careful with what we say. We fill the plastic jugs that once littered the planet and are ironically helpful now in these times of scarcity. I know I said that all our water supplies were polluted, but The Prioribus of the village have a way to purify it. Luckily, we have this technology. None of us would have been able to survive without water, that's for sure.

"So Rosie… I mean Roz," Rosalind shoots me a sharp look, "have you talked to Mateo lately? He's been weird to me."

Mateo, Rosalind, and I have been friends for as long as I can remember. It has always been the three of us versus the world. After Calamitatem happened, we became closer than ever.

"I don't know if I should say."

"Come on," I say, "you can tell me anything."

"Well … he found your heart-shaped locket."

At the sound of those words, I'm paralyzed. I feel sick, and I can't breathe. Rosalind notices the lack of contaminated air in my lungs and pats my back. I can feel the air slowly filling my lungs again.

"It's okay," Rosalind says while patting my back. "He won't tell."

"Are you sure?"

"Definitely"

The Prioribus have rules that we must follow. In return, we get access to resources such as drinkable water. Without them, the polluted water can kill you within days, if not hours. One of the most important rules is "one must not hoard valuable objects." I'm not in violation of one but two essential rules of The Prioribus. Those things are as vital to me as the drinkable water they provide.

Rosalind and I are now heading back to the village. We walk through the forest without saying a word. It's incredible how resilient these trees are. Most of them still stand tall, but their leaves have changed colors from a vibrant green to a sickly gray with purple undertones. Many of the plants and wildlife of the earth have either gone extinct or mutated; I imagine that's nature's desperate attempt at surviving a man-made calamity.

Walking through the forest can become a dangerous adventure pretty quickly. You can come across all sorts of things. It's only been years since Calamitatem happened. Most of us aren't used to the changes of the earth. I hear Rosalind scream.

"What happened?" I ask, turning towards her. Red and black flesh, oozing pus; a severed head of a deer sits a few inches away from its rotting corpse. I want to look away, but I can't. The more I look at it, the viler the scene becomes. Maggots are latched into the deer's flesh and greenish skin, feasting upon it. Fungus grows on what's left of its head. The eye sockets are hollow but not empty - a widow spider has made the skull its home, as there are plenty of victims to fall into its cobwebs and paralyzing venom.

We drop off the jugs of water at the center of the village. Some of the villagers will receive them to deliver to The Prioribus. The wooden houses stand tall, like the trees of the forest, and much like those trees, the houses have grayed; the chemistry of the wood has reacted to the dense air particles. The ground and roads that once were made out of concrete, gravel, and dirt are nothing but dust.

The village is a well-oiled machine. Every morning a group of us gets water. The older ladies cook whatever we can bring to them. Everyone has a role. Everyone has a place. Our duty is to the survival of the village only; all forms of individualism are forbidden by The Prioribus.

Throughout the day, people like me, 18- to 20-year-olds, meet with their mentors and talk about specializing in what pre-Calamitatum humans would call a career. Before, we would spend four years in college. But we don't have the time for that anymore, so instead, we are mentored in different skills, except for one, water purification. I am being mentored in cooking for the village.

The sun is starting to set, and the sky wears a vibrant, violet color. The dense turbulence of the clouds are brush strokes on a canvas. The sunsets are the only beauty we still get from the earth.

The mess I left this morning doesn't phase me anymore. It's been a long day.

Knock Knock knock

I open the door, even though it is unlocked. There are no locks in the village. It is one of the Prioribus. She is elegantly dressed in a long, flowing black dress accentuated with lace at the top. She is a delicate, dark fairy.

"Hello, Willow," Josephine, the Mother Prioribus, says in an even tone.

"Madam," I say, bowing my head slightly, "to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?"

"We need you to come with us."

"No problem"

My heart is pounding. I want to refuse, but the consequences can be dire.

I walk through the forest two steps behind Josephine, trying not to lose track of where I step. Something within me is telling me to run away, but I can't. Finally, we arrive at a cave where the rest of The Prioribus is standing in a circle around a campfire. They are all wearing black from head to toe. The moon dances around the stars, illuminating an eternally dark night.

"Come forward, Willow," says Josephine, gesturing to stand next to her.

We walk towards the cave, Josephine and I in the front. The rest of The Prioribus follow, holding torches. Once we step inside, it becomes clear that the cave is just a facade.

Beautiful white walls with authentic gold accents greet us. Lightbulbs, which are scarce in the village, illuminate the space with warm, soft lighting. High-tech equipment keeps this palace warm even through the chilly night.

The Prioribus live comfortably while the rest of us fight for our lives every day.

"Willow," Josephine said, "Do you know why you're here?"

"No."

I know there are a few possibilities, but I don't want to self-incriminate.

"We know what you've done," Josephine says, extending her hand in a fist. She opens her hand, and a golden, pendant-like object dangles from her fingers.

"My locket!" I scream, without meaning to.

"Yes, We know you break the rules. But that is not why you're here, Willow. We know the significance of this locket and the meaning of your name. It's time, you know," Josephine says, in the same even tone as before.

"We, The Prioribus, are an ancient group. We have been tasked with keeping the peace even before Calamitatem happened"

"So you terrorize people with ridiculous rules and hoard resources? That's how you keep the peace?" I am angry at this discovery.

"Now, Willow. That's an unfair way to put it," Josephine says.

"We want you to join us," one of the Prioribus chimes in.

"Uhh"

"Willow, We have so much to offer you. Your mother was one of us."

I have no words.

"How do you think you got the locket?"

"No."

I open my eyes, and I'm strapped to a table, my hands and feet tethered by leather straps. I feel a sharp pain in my abdomen, but I can't see anything. It feels like I'm being cut open. Someone takes off my blindfolds. And I see my dark gray organs oozing out of me. One of the members of The Prioribus is dissecting me. My dark lungs are exposed to the now crystal clear clean air.

I think back to my mother and the serene days we had at the pond. I think back at the deer and all of those who have felt prey.

"I'm sorry it has to end like this, Willow."

All of a sudden, everything goes dark.