The locket

Sara woke up with a jolt, eyes searching but unseeing. Nobody had the sight anymore, but instinct was hard to snuff out.

Fumbling with shaking hands for her nightgown, she got dressed in absolute silence, cautious of her younger siblings, still fast-asleep in their shared bed. Even though she didn't know how they looked like, Sara has always thought of them in terms of colors: Red, for feisty Eritrea, 4 years old and already more opinionated than a grown man; Blue, for sweet little Jon, a sickly 3 years old boy who never seemed to be warm enough despite her best efforts; and Orange, for Mya, the youngest but most affectionate of the trio. Sometimes, when things were exceedingly tough, Sara would spend nights on end rocking her 'til dawn. Not because the child was fussy, on the contrary, her mere presence made Sara's heartache abate a little, being infused with a warm glow.

With a hand closed tightly around her heart-shaped locket, Sara stepped into the night, once more resigning to the idea of another cycle without proper slumber. Life had never been easy. For anyone who came after the cataclysm that decimated humanity 500 years ago, and especially not for the Eriksson children, who lost both their parents to a vicious storm two years before. Which left Sara head of the household at the tender age of 12, in charge of three infants. She never resented them, how could she? They were her flesh and blood, innocent and pure, but how she longed for a time when she wasn't the caretaker, the unmovable pillar. To be able to show her feelings, to cry freely without having to step outside the cottage and venture into the nearby woods, out of hearing range. She never went far, of course, just enough to purge all the bottled-up emotions that were wreaking havoc inside.

Stepping carefully on the well-known path, she stumbled to her sanctuary, head turned to the light breeze that stirred at her arrival, like a lover giving their greetings. Sara had always loved the outdoors, even though most people steered clear of it. After all, it was dangerous to navigate the unfamiliar without seeing eyes, but that didn't stop Sara. Humans might have lost their sight (and many other things) in that fateful night all those centuries ago, but for the eldest Erikson, the woods represented a place of hope and possibilities. Since childhood, she felt a strong pull toward it and that only grew in intensity lately, since the dreams started.

Finally, the girl reached her destination - a quiet meadow with a sturdy lump that nature shaped in the form of an almost throne. Sara discovered it years ago, on one of her regular walks, and came to think of it as her sanctum, a place free of expectations and pain, a place to just be. Taking her usual seat, Sara allowed herself a few long-held tears and revisited the dreams. It was unheard of for someone to dream. That was a thing of the past. Now there were no more images the mind could conjure, no representations. And still, night after night for the past two months, Sara kept seeing in her subconscious mind strange glimpses that could only be of nature; if she were to believe Old Nan's stories. Great big lumps reminiscent of the mountains of old, a vast shiny surface that rippled on the wind, and fields upon fields of vibrant grass. It had to be. It was a kaleidoscope hard to put into words or even make sense of, but somehow she just knew. Maybe they were a sign? But what did they mean? Most people would discount Old Nan's tales, but not Sara. She had the utmost respect for the crippled woman who despite her troubles was the only one to comfort Sara and her siblings after their parents passed away. The only one how shared her rations with four starving orphans. And even though she joined the Eriksons in the Afterland six months ago, Sara has never forgotten the old woman's teachings.

Clutching more tightly her threadbare shawl, she pulled off the locket and tried to open it, not for the first time. It was a family heirloom, passed down through generations of Eriksons, and said to possess great powers. She had no idea what those could be, but that didn't deter her. Recently, she started feeling like the dreams were omens, pushing her to something, anything that could be of help. And so the locket was never far from reach; if only she could get it to reveal its secrets.

The first 15 minutes bore no fruit and Sara's time was coming to an end. The little ones could not be left alone for long. Remembering an ancient fable Old Nan told her many moons ago, she tried one last thing, rising and kneeling on the grass, hands pressed together with the locket between them, palms touching, fingers pointing upwards. Without warning, the gentle breeze turns into a howl that knocks the girl to the ground, making her hit her head on the mossy forest floor. Dizzy and confused, she tries to get up, but the wind keeps her down, blowing her raven tendrils and entering her ears, almost like it's searching for something. The pressure is immense, but there was little to be done, so Sara just clutched the locket and hoped this too shall pass.

Suddenly, her ears pop and all goes silent. A moment later, she feels the stirrings of a new dream, but how can this be when she's not sleeping? The silent question remains unanswered, but instead, new ones arise when glowing dots assemble themselves into the pattern of a willowy woman. It was hard to make out her exact form as if Sara's eyes could not comprehend it, but still, it was clear that the apparition was tall and graceful, with deep green eyes that pierced the fog of her shimmering contour.

"Welcome, child! It was time an Erikson found their way back."

A voice as old as the Earth but with an expected musicality, like bells chiming in the evening winds.

"Bbbut, what is this? Who are you?" Sara asks, barely holding on to her composure. Even for a dream, this was odd.

"I go by many names. Rhea, Demeter, Gaia, Tellus, Gaea. But you may know me as Mother Nature," the woman responds in the same melodic tone that soothes something deep inside Sara's soul.

"But I don't understand. Where are we? How can we be talking right now? What is this?!"

She was repeating herself, but it made no sense, nor did the sudden tendril of peace bubbling within. What was going on?

"Yes, I suppose you would have questions, even though it was you who summoned me. Do not look so shocked, 'tis true. Young one, I will tell you a story, a story that will help you understand," the woman continues.

"A long time ago, humans had a choice. A choice to continue on their current path, oblivious to nature, or to embrace their status as mere cohabitors of this Earth and pay it its due respect. They did not see the truth of their ways and persevered in offense after offense. Soiling the waters, polluting the air, ending species upon species... They chose wrong. And so, to my greatest sorrow, I had to mete out their punishment. Taking their sight and all their so-called technological advancements in one swift move, and gifting them with the chance to rediscover their roots, to see what truly matters. Among them were your ancestors, coming from a line that had pledged to the cause countless times throughout history. It was with one of them that I hid a talisman, a charm that could be used to call upon me in times of need, thinking they would find and use it sooner, so I could help guide humanity in its new stage of conscience through them. But half a millenium has passed since. It is no matter. You, Sara Erikson, will be my vessel. By being able to summon me, you have proved purity of heart and spirit. You will embody the inspiration humanity needs," Mother Nature concludes.

Sara is left speechless by all these astounding revelations, able to only utter a weak:

"And how will I do that?"

"With patience and faith, one step at a time. Look for me in your dreams, youngling. I will stand by your side," the lulling voice utters right before the image disintegrates.

Waking up from her dream? Vision? Sara rises from the ground and feels for her locket, out of reflex. She must have dropped it in all the excitement. When her hands meet only air and dirt, she starts to get frustrated, opening her eyes on pure instinct. And sees the locket, laying five feet to the right, illuminated by the full moon. Stunned beyond measure, she rubs at her eyes in wonder, closing and opening them in quick succession, as if afraid of a cruel trick. But the sight remains, as does a lingering feeling of calm, of rightness. Crawling the last foot, she picks up the locket and finds it open. In it, there was a tiny black-and-white picture of people holding hands around an enormous tree, with the inscription Never forget in the left corner. Drop - drop - drop on the faded image. Sara was crying, but for the first time in many years, there were happy tears. All of that... It was not a hallucination, but a real encounter with Mother Nature. Her strange and unheard of dreams were, indeed, a sign. She finally found help. One beyond anyone's wildest imagination.

Now she just needed to put one foot ahead of the other and have faith.

Look for me in your dreams, youngling...

A.M.Radulescu

By niko photos on Unsplash