Sahara

Bree rubbed the sand from her eyes. She squinted, then her eyes widened as she approached a glittering pool just meters away. Bree stumbled to the water as quickly as she could, and eventually she ended up just a step away. Bree extended her hand, calloused and dirty, peeling from burns, and crouched, gasping in anticipation of relief, but flinched when her hand only touched more scorching desert. Pain seared through Bree’s arm, and she looked on in horror as her skin seemed to shrivel up. She drew back her hand and lay onto the ground, ignoring the extreme stinging sensations on her legs. It would be better just to die. Her glorious solace and only chance of survival  had only been a mirage. Bree trembled, then screamed.

She woke up with a start. Bree shook her head. Though she knew she was safe inside her home, she couldn’t help but imagine the world just a wall away. Mother always said she had a marvelous imagination. Bree was starting to regret that. Bree sat up and stretched, then looked out the window and immediately cringed. More sand. Dust winds threw themselves against the window pane, creating a rat-a-tat rhythm which never stopped, beating all figures continuously. Endlessly. Bree shook her head and swallowed, shuddering at the reminder of her nightmare. She walked over to her sink and splashed water on her face, which was etched in a grimace. Then, Bree walked over to her calendar, marking off another day. 

For a year now, the last bits of water in the reserves had dried up, and much of the land had become void of life, empty desert. Slowly, the citizens of the planet Earth began dying, of thirst, and even heat stroke, hunger, and suffocation. There was no longer anything out there. Walking out of a sheltered home, one might see death, and hunger, but most of all, a vast emptiness. This drove most to madness before the pain. As the notable President of the Republic of Ireland, Bree’s mother Devin had led them out of the chaos of the city, to the country, which was calm and relatively unaffected by the situation outside. Except for goggles around their eyes and protective layers of scarves and clothing, Bree’s family, the McCallister trifecta, could roam freely outside in a golf-cart to the market. Every day, the family was deeply grateful for their resources, but still, they kept to themselves. Bree was deeply suspicious of her mother. Did she think as a government official, she could neglect the needs of the people of Ireland? Bree started noticing a look of disdain on Dev’s face as she shut the door to a person at the door, covering her mouth and turning away.

Bree couldn’t help thinking this was hypocritical and just wrong. After all, her mother and many other leaders had sworn to help the people, but what were they doing? Staying at home, with their own sources of water, not talking or meeting anyone to give guidance? Bree noticed her mom disappearing for hours at a time. What was she doing? Bree didn’t ask.

The first week into the McCallisters’ self-isolation was dreary. She once saw an adorable kitten licking itself outside. Bree had slinked outside, scooped up the kitten, scooping up the kitten, and played with it for hours. When Bree’s mother found out, she was furious. 

“BreeAnn McCallister! What is the meaning of this?”

“I’m bored, ma’am! You keep me inside all the time. I must see the world! I’ll die of boredom before I die in the outside world. This isolation is positively useless. Useless!” 

Bree stroked the cat. 

“This is for your own good. The cat most likely carries disease.”

“Disease, schmeez! You’re just afraid you’ll get rabies. You just care about yourself! Just like how you’re not helping anyone but yourself during this famine!”

Dev laughed. 

“Famine. That’s a funny way to put it.”

She began to walk away, but first snatched the cat from Bree. 

“Hey! The cat will die of thirst! You murderer!” 

Bree stomped away and slammed the door, leaving a confused and angry mother.

After an awkward dinner, Bree’s parents had sat her at the table and condescendingly explained the importance of manners. The audacity! Bree didn’t see much politesse in homicide. Afterwards, they told her to be careful, because of the dangers outside. As if she didn’t know that! She just wasn’t about to let some cats suffocate in a dust storm. Her vision blurred.

Weeks later, Bree had seen another girl sitting on the front stoop. She had been making a sandwich, then stopped slicing a loaf of bread when pounding began on the door. The girl had been as thin as a stick. Bree could see her ribs through her tank-top. Bree started to turn, remembering the sharp words of her mother. She knew there was risk in helping a stranger, but Bree simply couldn’t help it, especially when the girl began to whimper then sob fat tears, snot streaming down her face. Bree tsk-tsked; how stupid! The girl seemed eager to dehydrate herself. However, Bree forced a loud sigh. Her conscience was giving in. As she reached over to undo the lock, she reasoned that it was the right thing to do. Bree told herself she’d just do it this once. Just this once. Then, she’d be obedient for the rest of her life. She’d let the girl eat some stuff, get to know her, and convince Mom and Dad to let her stay. It was for the good of humanity. Besides, the girl was her age! She just felt some sort of connection. A kindred spirit, perhaps. 

Casually, Bree opened the door. The girl stopped sniffing and stood abruptly. 

“Well, hello-”

Before Bree could finish her sentence, the girl moved toward the doorway. Her eyes glittered with malice. She shoved Bree out the door into the howling winds and abrasive sand, stepping into the cave and shutting the door (and locking it). She offered a little smirk as Bree shrieked and punched at the door, then the girl rushed to the kitchen. Bree watched with tears in her eyes as the girl inhaled a slice after slice of bread. Bree coughed as the dust blew into her eyes, nose, and mouth. She choked and stumbled into the sand. Finally, Bree’s father walked in with his work computer. He looked up suddenly and stared at the strange girl spewing crumbs from her mouth as she tried to back away. Later, Bree found out that the girl had gotten to a whole loaf of bread and a pitcher of water by the time Bree’s father had broken her neck. After all, she’d been eating the food he’d worked hard to earn! But, by then, the sandstorms had confused Bree and left her stranded in the middle of a vast desert.

Every time she blinked, new colorful spots collected beneath her eyelids. She stumbled forward and landed hard on her knees. Bree groaned. How long had she been walking? Was it just minutes? Hours, maybe? Or possibly days? She’d lost track of the Sun’s position in the sky, and she couldn’t look at it anyway. It made her face feel like it was on fire. Bree was sure she was the luckiest person in the world having a full stomach in these conditions. Where was she? Far away from home? That much was true. Everything else was a haze, like a dream. Bree wasn’t sure a dream could leave her skin raw and eyes bloodshot, infected. What Bree did know was this: She had as much chance of making it home or even alive in these fortunate premises as in Antarctica with nothing. Which was a very low chance indeed.

BreeAnn McCallister traveled all over the world. She didn’t know it just yet, but she ended up in France, Belgium, and even Kazakhstan on some occasions. The land all looked the same. Bree pinched herself to keep herself from going crazy, sporting scratch marks and red scars on her arms for the rest of her life. When she walked into Finland, she recognized a small rodent: A capybara. Bree certainly thought it strange, but she could have used all the distraction she could get.
“You’re my only friend.” she told him constantly. Bree mourned when that capybara was bitten by a rattlesnake. Bree imagined it was in a better place now; she was special that way.

After Bree had been stumbling around alone for what she was positive was an eternity, she found a spot to rest in under a lone cactus one night. She screamed silently as she mistakenly stepped on a rock. Along with her allergy-ridden eyes and painful skin, Bree’d acquired an impaled foot from a low thorn bush. Not only was she plagued with infirmities, she was shaken by the violence she’d seen between a pair of stragglers in the desert. They’d fought for water. Fought to the death. Bree saw more examples of this along the way. She quaked at the memory of a cruel man drinking his dead child’s blood.  Bree shivered when she thought of how the capybara had lurched when he was bitten. Bree quickly checked the ground for snake burrows, then finally settled down. Her eyes came to a close. She had anything but a dreamless night. 

Bree woke up in a dark cell. She twisted and tried to get up, but she found that her arms and legs were bound with chains to grates. Bree screamed for help until her throat hurt, and she coughed blood. 

“It’s no use. You’re going to kill yourself.”

Bree spun around, knocking her head on the cell wall. At once, she realized she was gagged. 

“We don’t usually take such extreme measures on children. You’re a bit of a special case.”

The faceless woman took off Bree’s chains and gag. Bree spit at the ground. Her mouth tasted like bile. 

“You, you meanie!” 

Bree lunged at the woman, who calmly stepped aside. The woman evaded Bree’s hands searching for a throat to strangle. The woman moved quickly, and pinned Bree’s arm behind her back within seconds.

“Next time, try not to be so sloppy. I can break your arm now.” she said coolly. 

“Why are you doing this to me? I’ve never met you before.” Bree growled, teeth bared. 

The woman dug her nails into Bree’s shoulder. 

“Let’s just say we have a problem with snooty politicians. Especially the stuck-up imbecilic McCallisters hogging the food.”

“They’re not hogging the food! We’re not, I mean. We heard of the lost water and did what anyone would do.”

“You obviously don’t know of your own family’s methods then, do you? Dev McCallister is a danger to our Republic. She’s caused enough tyranny. When she spent all the government’s funds on useless things, she used smooth talking and bribes to avoid getting impeached. Isn’t it strange that when the world happens to go through this, she just disappears?” the woman spoke sarcastically with an edge. 

“It’s a coincidence.” 

Even as Bree said this, she thought of the countless lives taken by her father on a claim of self-defense and Bree’s protection. Bree did know about these “unusual” methods. Only now did they truly seem wrong.

“Okay, that doesn’t even come close to an explanation as to why I’m locked up here. I’m just a kid.”

The woman’s shadow seemed to turn to Bree. She wasn’t sure. Her head was spinning.

“It might not seem like it, but we did just save your life. Anyhow, you’re one of us now.”

“You don’t have the right to force me to stay. You’re no different from my parents. You must be hogging tons of food here.”

“We didn’t know who you were and still took you in. We keep to ourselves except for helping those in need. There are bad people out there who would take advantage of the resources here. All your needs will be accounted for. Just eat, sleep, and shut up, for once.”

“I still don’t know your name.”

The woman swallowed. “BreeAnn McCallister. The first, that is. Your father’s baby sister. When he was 16, I was born. You’re 7?”

Bree nodded yes, confused.

“That was my age when he waltzed off. He was as much an idiot then as he is now. I hope he’s sorry.”

Dev McCallister waltzed into the kitchen where her husband Ray was quietly eating a ham sandwich. 

“Is something the matter, Honey Bunny?”

Honey Bunny shrugged and kept chewing.

Dev slid into a chair at the kitchen table.

“If this is about Bree, I don’t know what to tell you. She’s gone, and gone for a year. Just because it’s her birthday doesn’t mean you should get distracted. It’s time to move on. We all had to make sacrifices for the greater good, Pookie Bear.”

Ray sighed, and nodded. His wife was right. It was time to move on. Bree had probably been long dead by now, though it was not like Dev had ever made any attempts to contact her.

Someone burst through the door with a kick. Bree approached her parents.

“Bree? Is that you?” 

Ray scrambled to his feet.

“Yes.”

Dev launched herself forward and hugged Bree. 

“We’re so glad you’re okay! We were worried!”

“If you’d really been so worried, why didn’t you attempt to find me? You weren’t worried, you were relieved there wasn’t another mouth to feed. I’ve been gone for 4 months, and in that time, I’ve learned the truth. You are not a good person. In fact, you’re a danger to humanity. I don’t like how you’re not doing your role in society. You aren’t doing your job as president! You are being selfish, and mean, an’ I don’t like you. I’m going to live with my aunt.”

Bree’s voice cracked. She felt lightheaded. Maybe she should sit down. She couldn’t speak right. 

“What she’s trying to say is I think it would be better for a certain Dev McCallister to not exist anymore. You’re not needed.” 

BreeAnn the First (more commonly known as Annie) stepped in from outside along with a huge throng of people.

“Annie,” Ray murmured breathlessly. “You wouldn’t. How could you?”

“Well, you stole my college tuition money for a ring, let my boyfriend get run over, and married this woman. I can, and will. I don’t think it’s right for anyone to overlook the needs of Ireland.” Annie said quietly.

Bree leapt in front of her parents, arms spread. 

“Wait! Are you implying that you’re going to kill my parents? We never agreed to murder them! You’re acting just like them!”

“Um, you are such a softie. That’s why I never told you. I am not like them. They didn’t help the helpless. Unlike me, who is ridding the world of people we could do without.”
“Just because they’ve done some bad things in life doesn’t mean you can ignore their rights. They overlooked people they thought were below them’s rights. So, yeah, you’re acting exactly like them.”

Everything became a blur…

Bree was gently shaken awake by her mother. Bree smiled, and hugged her ripped capybara stuffie closer. 

“Bree, we’re going to take Annie and her mommy back home. They’re going early because Uncle Earl said he’d be back at their home by supper. Aunt Melinda wants a hug. Do you want to come with?”

“Yeah! I’m not done playing with Annie yet. Can I go on the plane with them and see Uncle Earl?”

“Hm. There won’t be a plane ride today. The virus, remember?”

“Aww. The virus ruins everything!”

Bree sat up, furrowed her brow, and folded her arms.

“Yes. I suppose a drought is that much better?”

Bree groaned.

“You weren’t supposed to know about our make-believe world! That’s what made it a secret! Did Annie tell Aunt Melinda?”

“Well, we had to find out somehow. All those stories were hard to keep up with. Daddy wanted to know why Annie stopped playing with him. You know, maybe you should grow up a little more before you play those games with Annie again. A 13-year-old’s taste may be a bit… mature.”

Bree harrumphed. 

Her mother continued.

“I must say, you have quite the imagination, though. I’d never would have used cardboard for desert. Or have been able to magic my stay-at-home mom into a president. It might have been a little too elaborate for me to transform a pandemic into a period of dryness. I honestly cannot imagine the plains of Kansas as anything else. Anyway, let’s go.”

Bree decided she loved having a wild imagination. She winked at the capybara, who winked back.