Beyond

Chapter One: Alexandra

                Chapter One: Alexandra

        Grief swallows me whole as I stare down into the shadowy, dark hole that contains my husband.  At the bottom, I can barely make out a wooden coffin, which holds him and keeps him safely inside.  Near the hole, cast off to the side, is a large pile of dirt from the hole I dug.  I watch the dirt, wondering whether or not I should cover up the hole yet.

        Before I go to do that, I feel something crawl beside me and gently cling onto my leg.  I jolt slightly, darting my eyes to see what grasps tightly to me.  Then, below, I spot a small girl.  She has dark brown, curly, long hair like me.  Over her little body, she wears a cute, denim dress that is enough to protect her from the heat of the outside, since we do live in the middle of nowhere.  She looks up at me innocenetly, exposing her abnormal, galactic eyes.  When I say galactic, I actually mean galactic.  She has starry eyes with the mixture of the colors blue, purple, yellow, and much more.

        "Do we bury him now?" her voice warmly asks.  At the sound of her, my heart softens and I feel comforted almost immediately.  I hug her close and wonder, Why must she know of death so early?  She's only three and a half.

        "Yes, we shall," I stroke my fingers through her hair and she grins at my, a tiny bead of a tear forming near the corner of her eye.  Gingerly, I wipe it away and stand up, clinging onto her hand with mine.  I need her just as much as she needs me; we both have to have each other, or else it will be hard to thrive with this grief.

        I begin to limp towards the pile of dirt.  I got my limp from the nuclear war, and I know this is a permanent scar because I have had it since then, which was ten years ago.  Since I walk slower, my daughter is ahead of me, pulling me along the tall, pale grass, which is mostly dead because this is dead ground that was highly destroyed by the nuclear war.  All around, there is nothing but some mountains and then our home, along with one tree, which casts a small shadow to shade us.

        "Do you want to say anything to your father before we bury him?" I ask my daughter.  When I say that, her little head swerves around and glares back at me.

        "Yes," she smiles slightly, then turns to kneel down at the edge of the hole.  Dipping her head, she puts her hands together and prays quietly, to the point where I can almost not hear her, "Hey daddy.  It's Sadie, your daughter.  Mommy and I miss you a lot... But I bet you're having a good time with God.  Please say hi to Him for me.

        "Also, I need you to protect us and bless us.  I have a feeling that my difference may get us in trouble one day..."  At this, I furrow my brows and cross my arms, wondering where she got that piece of most likely false, but strange, information.  Then, I listen on as she says, "Just tell God to bless us.  Love you, daddy.  I can't wait to one day see you."  She stands up, takes a handful of dirt, and tosses it over the edge.

        After a second, I hear the soft thud of the dirt hitting the wooden coffin.  I sigh and walk towards the hole, grabbing my handful and kneeling down to pray, like Sadie did.

        "Hey John," when I say his name, I immediately think of him.  His green eyes are first, then his soft, light brown hair and charming smile; it all comes into my head and makes me smile and begin to tear up at the thought of such a great man.  I go on, stuttering a little, "I miss you and love you.  I wish we could have gotten married and maybe... have some more..."  I look over at Sadie, who doesn't seem to be paying much attention, since she plays with the tree off to the side.  "Anyways, I love you so much and I wish I could have had more time with you.  Please speak to God to bless our family...  We're gonna need it."

        Once my prayer is finished, Sadie runs over to my side and watches as I toss the pile of dirt to the coffin.  Finally, we both grab our shovels and scoop up dirt, throwing it in at a rhythm.

        At last, we are done.  I pat up the remains of dirt and then go to Sadie and grab her hand.  She looks at the spot where the hole once was and asks, "Do you know if daddy was able to hear our prayers?"

        "Yes, of course," I say; though, honestly, I highly doubt that.  I'm sure John loves us; yet, this world is so screwed up, I am a hundred percent sure that he doesn't want to look back down on it.  I don't blame him, because I wouldn't either.  Well, maybe if my family was still down here... I think to myself, itching the top of my head.

        "Let's get inside," I murmur.  "It's getting hot."

        "Yeah," Sadie looks up to the sky and sighs, her eyes flickering.

        While walking, I watch Sadie gaze up at the sky and around.  She's a gifted child.  A gifted child means that a child was born from the radiation that was placed inside a mother.  They have abnormal, yet beautiful, abilities.  They are somehow able to see the universe, way beyond the naked eye or any extremely intelligent scientist's telescope.  Her abilities, however, I have only seen a few times.  Every once in a while, Sadie will play outside and suddenly make a small flower.  She doesn't exactly know that it's abnormal, so she doesn't really test it out, like I would if I were with her powers.  Though, I don't really mind.  I want her to stay the way she is.

        Once we get inside, I sit down on the light brown, leather couch.  I cross my legs and lean my head back, letting out a sigh of sweet relaxation.  Quickly, I grab the remote and turn on the small television, which is crookedly placed in front of the couch where I sit.  When it is on, it immediately switches to the news, which has a man at a podium.  The President, of course.  He stands tall and mighty, expressing such leadership with his posture and stature, along with his gleeful smile and wave to the people.  I watch him, not interested in any other channel at the moment, curious to hear what he has to say.

        "Hello, remaining survivors of America!" he says.  At this, crowds cheer and reply with the same address.  He grins, chuckles, and then gestures his hand for silence, which happens once he does it.  He says aloud, speaking clearly into the microphone, "You all may know of gifted children, which are special kids with the strange abilities to control nature and much more.  Some of you may have some of these children.  Well, I came here to tell you the truth.

        "Those children are dangerous.  These children need to immediately be taken into captivity in my prison.  These children are out to get us, out to kill our race of humanity.  If you turn in this child, you will be given loads and loads of property, along with a house for the rest of you and your family.  Also, some money will be offered, depending on the age and experience of the child you have.

        "We will also be sending out patrols.  Some of you will most likely not be willing to give your child up, in hopes of keeping them.  Yet, these patrols will search each and every one of your houses for any signs of gifted traces.  Once we find them and they are purposefully being hidden by you, you and the gifted one will be forced into hard labor and imprisoned from the rest of the world."  Once those words come out, the crowd almost goes wild.  They are all asking numerous amounts of questions, calling out protests or agreements to his words.  He holds up his hand and silence follows once more.

        "I only wish to proceed the life and safety of this world," he says, eyes twinkling with evil.  "You must understand my intentions, strong people.  If you love your land, turn in your demonic, demented children."  He turns and leaves, people closing in on the stage with questions and retorts; but, there are some people who agree with these terms and newly set laws.

        When I hear this, my mouth drops open.  They're having patrols search every home?

        I turn my head towards the frame that leads to the hallway.  On the floor, Sadie sits there, playing dress-up with her dolls and brushing their hair gently.  She smiles at me, then her eyes go back to the dolls.  I push my hand to my head and let out a few sighs of worry and anxiety.

        I can't let this world take another one of my loved ones, I think.  But they may kill me...  I shake my head; no second thoughts.  I have to find a way to avoid them from taking my daughter and me.