A Mother’s Love

Trigger Warning: Physical Violence, Profanity, Indication of Self Harm

“All flights out of the country have been canceled,” a female called over the monitor. “Please remain where you are.”

Panic ripped through the airport. People frantically tried to reach their loved ones, though the cell service had been stopped nationwide days ago. Yet, everyone clung to their useless phones, as if they were the lifelines to a world that no longer existed.

My heart started pounding too, but I tried to keep a brave face on for my five-year-old daughter. 

“Mommy,” she called up to me, her voice trembling. “Why is everyone so scared?”

I crouched down to her level, my hands shaking slightly as I brushed her hair back. “Oh, love, don’t you worry about that,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “Everything is fine, Anya, okay?” 

I was lying, and I hoped she couldn’t see it.

“But where is Kelcie?” she asked, her voice cracking. “She was supposed to be here with us.”

My heart shattered at the mention of my older daughter's name. Kelcie had died three days ago in the chaos, but I couldn’t bear to tell Anya. How do I explain such a thing to a child?

“Kelcie is somewhere safe now,” I say quietly, holding back the tears that stung my eyes. 

Suddenly, the blare of sirens cut through the air, growing louder as they approached the airport. My pulse was pounding in my ears, fear constricting my breath. This was it.

Men in military uniforms flooded inside, rounding up civilians like cattle. Fights started to break out as families were ripped apart. People were screaming for their children, and gunshots rang in the air. 

I scooped Anya into my arms and ran, instinct taking me to the nearest bathroom. Maybe we could hide in the stall, just until the soldiers moved on. When I pushed open the door, I froze. 

Bodies lay scattered across the floor, a grim picture of despair. These people knew it was too late for them. 

I quickly shielded my daughter's eyes from the sight before us. Panic surged through me, and I bolted back to the terminal, searching desperately for an escape. The escalator was ahead, now laying still. I raced towards it, tightening my grip on Anya, but in the chaos I missed a step and nearly fell.

Somehow, I caught myself and managed to keep running. I couldn’t afford to stop.

A horrifying thought had been gnawing at me since the country turned upside down. Rumors had spread about the government’s twisted, nightmarish plan. Some psychotic scientists had discovered something inside the cells of young children, something that could be mutated to stop aging entirely– but only children that were still developing carried this potential.

The government ordered the military to round up children, testing them for any “defects”. The unlucky ones, those with even the slightest imperfection, were destined for something worse than death. Their bodies would be harvested of those cells, which would be sold to the highest bidder in the pursuit of eternal youth.

The evil things humans will do for something as worthless as fucking money. 

Anya would be labeled “defective” because of her history of speech impediments. They would surely see it as a deeper issue. They wouldn’t care about the beautiful, kind soul inside of her. To them, she would be nothing more than a resource to be exploited.

I would die before I let them take her, and come back to haunt the lives of these worthless fucking people. They weren’t going to lay a finger on her beautiful, blonde head. 

As we reached the bottom of the escalator, I spotted an elevator and dashed toward it. My only plan was to buy us some time, to find a safe place for us to hide, even if it was just for a little while. The airport was surrounded right now, and going outside would mean the end. I pressed the button, praying the doors would open quickly as I scanned behind us.

“Mommy, I’m scared!” Anya screamed, covering her ears as we entered the elevator. 

“I know baby, I know,” I whispered, fighting to keep the terror from my voice. “But Mommy is going to make everything better. Just keep your eyes closed and plug your ears until Mommy taps you, okay?”

She nodded, tears streaming down her face as I hit the button to close the doors. As they began to slide shut, a soldier spotted us. His eyes locked onto mine, and he sprinted toward us, his weapon raised.

“Stop!” he shouted, but I frantically pressed the button again and again, willing the doors to close faster.

The soldier wasn’t going to make it, and he knew it. He fired his gun just as the doors sealed shut. The shot rang out, piercing through the metal, but miraculously missing us both.

Anya’s screams sounded muffled as I moved my body in front of her and pushed us against the wall, repeatedly pressing the button to the fourth floor. It went into motion, climbing slowly to the top floor. As we passed the third level, I slammed my shaking palm into the emergency button, bringing the lift to a halt between floors.

We were safe, for now. 

In the moment of relief, my body racked with sobs. 

We have nothing. No food, no water, and no weapons. We will last three, maybe four days here tops. Or maybe sooner… Can you run out of oxygen in an elevator?

I had to stop my crying- Anya needed me right now. I look down at her, curled up in a ball, her small body racking with sobs. I wiped my own tears and pulled her into a tight hug.

“Hush, baby, it’s okay,” I murmured, my voice cracking. I felt the tears threatening my eyes again at my lie, and I slowly let them fall. 

We weren’t okay… but I needed to be brave for her right now. 

“Do you want Mommy to sing to you?” I asked softly, my voice barely above a whisper. She nodded violently, her cries not stopping.

I started to hum, then let the familiar words of an old church hymn escape my trembling lips: “Even If” by MercyMe. My voice was shaky, and I barely made it halfway through before I was sobbing again, unable to continue.

“God, if you’re out there– if you don’t save us right now, how am I supposed to have faith anymore?” I silently prayed.

We stayed like that for what felt like hours, maybe longer, huddled together in the dark metal box.

At some point, I lost track of time. Hunger gnawed at us, and our throats were burning with thirst.

“We have to hold on for as long as we can,” I told Anya. She was clammy, her lips chapped, and all she could muster out was a whimper.

“God, please,” I begged, unable to cry anymore. “Help my daughter... don’t let her down too.”

The sudden sound of pounding above us jolted me awake. I looked up, my heart racing as the roof of the elevator was being peeled back. Harsh light flooded in, and I squinted to see a man’s face looking down at us. My body tensed up and I protectively shielded my daughter.

“I found two survivors!” the man called out. “They need a medic!”

I didn’t know whether to be terrified or relieved. I tightened my grip on Anya, promising myself that nobody would ever try to take her from me again.

I won’t ever let go of her.