Opaque Kingdom

       

This is no fairytale.

There is no handsome saviour, no damsel in distress, nor is there a happy ending. In fact, there is no end.

There is, however, a girl who walks along the cluttered beach, digging her toes deeper into the sand with each step. She has to side-step every so often to avoid the debris in her path but that doesn't stop her from moving further and further away from the mountains behind her.

Where is she headed? The ocean was the first thought that came to mind, but you could not call this monstrosity an ocean. It was more of a murky shadow filled to the brim with a kingdom of plastic, each citizen with its own story and journey but all with the same home. This kingdom was alive but not with those who you would expect. No, they had died long ago and those who had survived had escaped, seeking a place of refuge and, well, clear of everything that threatened to destroy their kind; clear of plastic.

That was where she intended to go. Into the storm, for was the real world any better?

As the tip of her toes connects with the cool, flowing water, a jolt of energy passes through her, strong enough to send her back and onto the sand in a cluttered heap. A voice enters her mind. It sounds like her own yet she is not controlling the words that echo around her. 'Help them', it tells her. 'There is still time. Help them or they will be no more.'

She sits up in surprise, not quite believing what she hears. There is no 'they' and there is no way to help. All that exists is a world surrounded by lifeless bodies and no escape in sight.

The girl takes a deep breath but chokes on her words. "W-what can I do? Who can I help? I am merely a helpless girl. I am...nothing, just like everybody else."

She waits, wondering what inspirational response will come to her, deeming her a hero. But the voice does not answer and she is truly alone again. Just as she was when she watched her mother throw the wrapper onto the smoky streets before it tumbled into the gutter as she was dragged away. Just like when she and her friends had attempted to throw their old toys into the bin from afar but just left them there to grow old and frail when only one had succeeded in hitting the jackpot. Just like when she had stayed silent when she should have spoken up. When she should have fought back.

So now she does. There is no knowing if it will ever be enough. Not until the trees that she brought to life have grown. Not until the children are no longer afraid to dance around the streets and swim in the ocean.

Maybe there is an ending, but it is still yet to be lived.