Ondine

The End of the World

Today the world is quiet. There's no wind to rattle the wind chimes and the bugs no longer hum in the mid-July heat of Arizona. A girl sits crosslegged in the orange dirt leaning back on her palms, letting the sun beat down on her tan skin. The sky is a cloudless blue, a once in a lifetime blue. Marisol closes her eyes and pulls the silence into herself. 

Suddenly the perfect quiet is interrupted by the crunch of tires approaching down the dirt road. Marisol hears the screen door slam in the front of the house and the dull thud of car doors closing. There is a heated murmuring of conversation then it's quiet again. It must be those neighbors down the road arguing about buying our land again she thinks to herself and closes her eyes once more. The perfect calm day bursts into madness as a single gunshot echoes out across the desert. 

BANG

Marisol is to her feet in seconds and doesn't even bother to dust off her denim overalls. She creeps along the side of the house and with a lump in her throat she forces herself to sneak a peek around the corner. She sees two men in jumpsuits with a big armored truck whispering to each other. At their feet is her mother face down. Still in her Pajamas, her arms hug the earth and her feet are bare. Her long dark hair soaks up the blood that seeps from her bullet hole. 

"You check inside and I'll check the perimeter," the taller of the two men says gesturing with his gun. The other man nods and then carefully steps around the lifeless body and behind the screen door. 

Marisol is filled with rage. She backs up and waits for the man to turn the corner. When he does he sees a small girl no older than twelve in light blue overalls and a pink t-shirt with both of her hands in the air.

"Alright sweetheart," he croons pointing the gun at her head, "no funny business." Marisol smiles and then she begins to sing. It's a soft tune, a lullaby that flows back and forth like the tide. The man can't keep his eyes open and over he falls. She continues to sing as she picks up his gun and enters the house. She knows she doesn't have much time before he will wake. She finds the other man in the kitchen searching through her refrigerator. 

"Hands up." She says aiming the gun at his chest. Marisol has never touched a gun before but it feels powerful in her small hands. The man drops a jar of pickles and slowly turns to face her. She opens her mouth to sing another lullaby but before she can get the first notes out a gag is thrown around her mouth and she's pulled backward by the taller man. 

BANG

The man falls against the refrigerator door pieces of his face on the cupboards. The last thing that Marisol sees before everything goes black is the man falling to the tile floor. 

A needle is placed into the back of her neck and she goes down quick. The man in the jumpsuit looks over his coworker.

"Well fuck David," he shakes his head "Looks like you're not getting that promotion after all!" He picks up the sleeping girl and carries her to the van. He punches a code into the back and throws her body onto the metal floor. He enters the code again and the defense system turns on. He slams the door shut.

The back of the van is empty and the walls are too thick for  her tiny fists to break through. She tries to yell, scream, anything to get out but her voice is trapped within her. She tries her best anyway and tires herself out, her throat sore. She leans her back against the side of the van and slumps to the ground. The ride goes on for hours, or at least what feels like hours to Marisol. She slides around with each turn, nothing to grab onto. The van hits a large bump causing Marisol to slam hard into the metal floor. She pulls herself up to her knees and places a hand to her forehead. Already she could feel a bump forming. 

Finally the van slows to a stop. Marisol scrambles to her feet and gets ready to fight, but when the doors open, the man is not there. Instead she finds an empty concrete room with no windows or doors. . Marisol hesitates before slowly creeping to the edge of the van. A speaker on the wall screeches with feedback.

"Step out of the van. Now." A man's voice erupts from the wall. Marisol cautiously does as she is told. She steps forward into the room and she can feel the same defense system barring her voice from leaving her throat.

"Now change into the clothes provided you." The voice demands. A small slot opens on the wall opposite her and a jumpsuit is pushed through. It lands on the floor with a small thud and dust flies from the dirty orange canvas. Marisol changes quickly unsure if there are cameras in the room. 

This must be some kind of prison. She thinks to herself. As she clasps the last button together a large collar is shoved through the slot, it then closes seamlessly. 

"Put the collar on." The squeaky voice calls over the speaker. Marisol eyes the collar. It blinks red at her. She looks up and shakes her head at the voice.

"This room is armed to the teeth with high energy weapons. You have to the count of three, or I will turn them on."

Marisol's brow furrows. She knows that once this collar is on there is no going back.

"Three..." She wonders for a second if the voice is bluffing. She want's to speak to this person, to ask questions but they are trapped in her mind.

"Two..." The fact that they already took away her voice, she decides that it's in her best interest to put the collar on. The metal is cold against her bare neck and as it clicks into place it beeps three times. 

"Good girl." The voice praises her. "Now, through the door." The wall opens into a full doorway this time and she steps through it. She only wished she could have said "Goodbye" to her freedom.