The Warden's Heart

It began with the sound of a droning buzz in the heart of a barren desert. Something beneath the earth’s surface was beginning to wake up. Billions upon billions of dormant insects crawled up through the sand. They swarmed under the hot sun; and turned the blue sky to black. They travelled fast and across huge distances with a persistent need for vegetation. They travelled like an air born virus and laid pools of eggs, hatching within hours. Within months, they had crossed cities, oceans, and countries and raped lands of all the things we need. Humans, plundered and starved faced challenges of law, order and survival. Soon, the people with all the power began to create what would to be called The New Laws.

One of these New Laws was The Convict Conviction.

Anyone convicted of a crime will receive a life sentence. The sentence will pass from generation to generation. Once a convict, always a convict.

As time went on, the plague was eventually destroyed but The New Laws remained. Prisons continued to fill and with no redemption the divide between those with crimes against their names and those with freedom, evolved into two societies. Those with the wealth, power, and privilege controlled and contained the second society who were given less of everything and less than the promise of hope.

***

I was born in one of these prisons, a place called Convict’s City. We are surrounded by a giant fence of wire and slivers of twisted steel. Behind this lies the city wall, and beyond, a world I will never know. I am staring at this fence right now and it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Shimmering silver, heart shaped lockets decorate the entire fence. These are the memory tokens for all of us who have died. I was eight when I weaved my first heart locket on a chain between these slivers of steel. I watched my Dad engrave her name with a shaking hand as I held my brother close. 16 year later, I am here to hang my 6th locket on this beautiful, swollen fence. These days the fence is so heavy with hearts I don’t understand how it is upright at all. Somehow, amongst all the hearts, I manage to find my Mum and I hang his heart next to hers.

I stare through a gap in the fence now, towards the city wall. Below it, trees and a garden, a bench and child’s ball. Next, I look up to the watch tower. Here lives the Prison Warden and he is staring back at me right now. A thick cigar between his teeth, his beard is bristly and greyer than ever before. I hold his gaze, not wanting to be the first to look away.

Never, have I seen him look back at us. Not when we protest, not even when we beg.

When plead for help when the winter comes, or when a new disease begins to spread.

Once, I used to despise him until I realised, he already despised himself. I can see it in his face, I see this even though I am far below. The warden had a family once, I know, I saw them play.

Until one day a disease came and even he must have been afraid.

You would think The Others would have offered the vaccine like they passed out to all their own.

They must not have, because his family died. I can see their gravestones in the garden below.

He despises himself and I am glad. We all know the things he has done.

I turn and walk away, leaving my heart and the pendant, hanging with my Mum.

***

The next morning, I awake to a rumour, and I follow it to the fence. In this first week of winter, hopelessness are the snowflakes, and everyone is tense. Thousands of people are gathered now. There is violence in the air. I keep to the back of the growing crowd, not trusting what will come. Sometimes there is tear gas, sometimes there are guns. All the heart shaped lockets are shining on the swollen fence. Suddenly, began to dance. The fence gate has been unopened since long before my time, but now it slides, slowly apart. A giant, gapping mouth lets us little humans slip inside. We are cold and hungry, with nothing much to lose. Laid out in front of us are thousands of weapons. Things I’ve never seen before, things that I don’t know what they can do. The Warden is offering us the weapons. Why a change of heart?

Then, I see him beside those gravestones, beneath the tower, beneath his trees.

Maybe, it took his broken heart to see that he was never free.

The Warden controls the way through the wall to get to The Other’s side.

I watch as he presses a button. I watch the doorway slide.

The months that followed were cruel and tough, we fought like there was nothing else be.

The Warden could not be forgiven but given mercy to sleep beneath his trees.

Our future is uncertain. We rebel, hide, die, but we survive.

And our fence is still standing and so our hearts remain alive.

Word count: 876