argue
with the judge, but it accomplished nothing. Two guards moved in on
me, and the most menacing-looking of them snatched me up underneath
my arms. I didn’t stand a chance. How was this even happening? I’d
heard of the government’s implementation of new criminal
punishment, but I’d never actually given it much thought because I
never imagined I’d be convicted as a felon. Me? Lydia Brone?
Sentenced to three years on a remote island for murder?
* *
*
For a
moment, I thought I’d fallen asleep on my mother’s living room
sofa. Everything was dark, and I wondered if perhaps my mother had
forgotten to lower the air conditioner as she often did on the
nights of hot summer days.
But the
smell of earthworms and sea water suddenly brought forth the
reality that I was nowhere near home—nowhere near my mother. I
hadn’t spent much time thinking about her, having been too
distracted by my need to survive among wild women and my unwavering
belief that my circumstance was nothing more than a
dream.
As I
remembered the many nights spent by my mother’s side, watching
reality TV and ordering takeout, I began to feel grief. I felt as
though I’d lost her forever—the only person who meant anything in
my life. Sure, I had some acquaintances, but none of them would
have ever taken the time of day to visit me had I been incarcerated
behind bars. My mother had attended every court date and meeting
with my lawyer.
I
remembered the sound of her sobbing at the sight of her only child
being dragged away by heavily armed militants after my sentence.
She’d sat in the back, tugging at her white pearl necklace as she
always did when she was anxious. Not only had I abandoned her, but
I’d taken Gary from her, who I knew would be mourned regardless of
his abusive tendencies.
What had
I done?
I
shivered and wrapped my arms around myself. I could hear faint
sounds in the distance—waves crashing against the shore and animals
lurking nearby, but overall, the entire Village was silent. My
stomach growled, and I feared I might wake someone up. Although I
was tempted to peek out through the curtain of my tent, I was still
too exhausted.
So I
closed my eyes and allowed my mind to venture into the depths of my
imagination—to a place where I’d never been convicted of murder and
where I was free to do as I pleased. I woke up with drool on my
face and a stiff body. I wasn’t sure whether my aches were the
consequence of an uncomfortable sleeping area or of the stressful
events I’d endured the day prior.
I jumped
when my tent curtains flew open and Ellie popped inside, seemingly
frantic.
“ Where’ve you been?” she asked.
I wiped
the gooeyness off my face. I must have looked like a complete
dirtbag—literally.
“ Here,” I said, matter-of-factly.
“ What’d you mean, here? I didn’t see you anywhere last night.
Didn’t you hear the supper drums? The breakfast drums?”
I shook
my head.
“ Well you’d better get up,” she urged. “Eat something, because
after breakfast, everyone gets to work.”
“ Work?”
She
cocked an eyebrow at me.
“ You didn’t think your sentence would be a getaway, did
you?”
“ No, not at—” I tried.
“ Just get up. I’ll lend you some pearls.”
“ Pearls?”
But she
was gone. I looked around my new home, not quite certain what to
make of it. It was basically a house made of leather walls and dirt
flooring, without any furniture or decorations. At least I had some
sunlight, I thought, gazing up at the tear in the tent. The arrow
was lying on the ground, its sharp point dug into the
dirt.
Welcome to paradise , I thought.
I
sighed.
I threw
my greasy hair up into a messy bun, suddenly realizing how valuable
my hair elastic had become. I’d only had the one tied around my
wrist. What would I do if it broke? If it was stolen? Perhaps I’d
do as most women did and cut off all my hair.
Another
thought crept into my mind. How would I wash my hair? My body? I
smelled
with the judge, but it accomplished nothing. Two guards moved in on
me, and the most menacing-looking of them snatched me up underneath
my arms. I didn’t stand a chance. How was this even happening? I’d
heard of the government’s implementation of new criminal
punishment, but I’d never actually given it much thought because I
never imagined I’d be convicted as a felon. Me? Lydia Brone?
Sentenced to three years on a remote island for murder?
* *
*
For a
moment, I thought I’d fallen asleep on my mother’s living room
sofa. Everything was dark, and I wondered if perhaps my mother had
forgotten to lower the air conditioner as she often did on the
nights of hot summer days.
But the
smell of earthworms and sea water suddenly brought forth the
reality that I was nowhere near home—nowhere near my mother. I
hadn’t spent much time thinking about her, having been too
distracted by my need to survive among wild women and my unwavering
belief that my circumstance was nothing more than a
dream.
As I
remembered the many nights spent by my mother’s side, watching
reality TV and ordering takeout, I began to feel grief. I felt as
though I’d lost her forever—the only person who meant anything in
my life. Sure, I had some acquaintances, but none of them would
have ever taken the time of day to visit me had I been incarcerated
behind bars. My mother had attended every court date and meeting
with my lawyer.
I
remembered the sound of her sobbing at the sight of her only child
being dragged away by heavily armed militants after my sentence.
She’d sat in the back, tugging at her white pearl necklace as she
always did when she was anxious. Not only had I abandoned her, but
I’d taken Gary from her, who I knew would be mourned regardless of
his abusive tendencies.
What had
I done?
I
shivered and wrapped my arms around myself. I could hear faint
sounds in the distance—waves crashing against the shore and animals
lurking nearby, but overall, the entire Village was silent. My
stomach growled, and I feared I might wake someone up. Although I
was tempted to peek out through the curtain of my tent, I was still
too exhausted.
So I
closed my eyes and allowed my mind to venture into the depths of my
imagination—to a place where I’d never been convicted of murder and
where I was free to do as I pleased. I woke up with drool on my
face and a stiff body. I wasn’t sure whether my aches were the
consequence of an uncomfortable sleeping area or of the stressful
events I’d endured the day prior.
I jumped
when my tent curtains flew open and Ellie popped inside, seemingly
frantic.
“ Where’ve you been?” she asked.
I wiped
the gooeyness off my face. I must have looked like a complete
dirtbag—literally.
“ Here,” I said, matter-of-factly.
“ What’d you mean, here? I didn’t see you anywhere last night.
Didn’t you hear the supper drums? The breakfast drums?”
I shook
my head.
“ Well you’d better get up,” she urged. “Eat something, because
after breakfast, everyone gets to work.”
“ Work?”
She
cocked an eyebrow at me.
“ You didn’t think your sentence would be a getaway, did
you?”
“ No, not at—” I tried.
“ Just get up. I’ll lend you some pearls.”
“ Pearls?”
But she
was gone. I looked around my new home, not quite certain what to
make of it. It was basically a house made of leather walls and dirt
flooring, without any furniture or decorations. At least I had some
sunlight, I thought, gazing up at the tear in the tent. The arrow
was lying on the ground, its sharp point dug into the
dirt.
Welcome to paradise , I thought.
I
sighed.
I threw
my greasy hair up into a messy bun, suddenly realizing how valuable
my hair elastic had become. I’d only had the one tied around my
wrist. What would I do if it broke? If it was stolen? Perhaps I’d
do as most women did and cut off all my hair.
Another
thought crept into my mind. How would I wash my hair? My body? I
smelled
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