You & I

I gave Alice the locket on her birthday, and when she died, I took it back. She'd had it less than a day when the first attack happened. By the time we knew what was happening, two weeks had passed, and she was dead. The heart-shaped locket was the only thing I had left of her, and the picture inside of it was my own. I had no images of Alice; I was starting to forget her face. Her memory was fading with all the rest. Fast food, PTA meetings, convenience stores, cafe lattes, and fresh vegetables- all of these things and Alice were all relics of the past.

Jack and The Beanstalk had been Alice's favorite bedtime story. But, unfortunately, it had been a long time since any child had been tucked in at night. There would be no more giants and golden eggs or fantastical tales of adventure. There weren't any more children; they were all dead. So the tiny silver locket that meant the world to Alice became the only thing left with meaning in my possession. When I was hungry enough, I agreed to trade it for some dry beans.

They killed every child: infants, toddlers, adolescents, and teens, and every female of childbearing age who was still "functional." They killed every adult with a weakened immune system and all of the exceedingly elderly. They didn't want to raise humans. They didn't want us to continue to multiply. So they cut us off, kept those still useful for heavy labor, and planned to work us to death until we were erased, and only they remained.

The only reason I am still alive is because of my early hysterectomy. After Alice, I knew I was done. Robert and I already had three children; it was time. Sometimes I wish I hadn't gone through with it. It would have been better to sleep permanently. Sure, the initial death would have caused some pain, but after that, there would be peace and not what remained, which was an extended place somewhere between living and dying.

When the time came, we were put into two lines. Up until the last checkpoint, I could see Alice looking back at me. I had lost sight of her brothers hours before when they were dragged screaming from my arms. Now Alice was dead, as were her two brothers. When they knew I couldn't have children, I was made to move bodies, including my Alice. I unclasped the chain from her tiny, fragile neck and stuffed the locket away with my tears.

Their last step was to kill all the men, leaving only the women behind. I have not seen my husband since the boys were taken from me. After everything I have endured since that day, I genuinely wish he died instantly so he wouldn't have to live through the pain.

They came, took everything, and left us with barely any resources and no way to propagate. I am one of the few that I know of that survived. They disappeared as quickly as they arrived. Once they had depleted the earth of whatever it was that they wanted and then taken away everything we loved, they no longer needed us and left.

We don't know if they'll be back. And we don't understand why they altered those of us that were left behind. Their plan is still in play, even with them being gone. Now there are hundreds of us in this city alone, women like me who could not bear children, who suddenly can. Four hundred thirty-eight women are pregnant, many of whom were post-menopausal.

Not only do I have a uterus, but every scar my body ever endured has been erased. I am made new, and you are the only thing with meaning in my possession. You have no name. Like the others, I don't know what to expect when you are born.

I wonder what you will look like and if you'll have my eyes or theirs. Will you have ten fingers and ten toes, or am I just an incubator? Will you have a soul? Will you have dreams? Will you care? I feel you growing, moving, and becoming. Will you chatter away like I do, or be always silent, as they were? I fear what you will become and what will become of me. I wonder what is next for all of us and our world.

Unfortunately, we no longer have the benefit of ultrasounds. They left us in the dark ages, with no doctor or scientist among us, burning our libraries and destroying every bit of electronic information. They left us with rocks and sticks, dirt and water, sunlight, and air, everything we needed to survive. They also unknowingly left this notebook, which I found and hid away, to tell this story. So we are starting over from scratch, you and I.