"𝚅𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚊 𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚌𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝟷.𝟶 - 𝙰𝚡𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚎 𝙷𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗'𝚜 𝚁𝚎𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝"
Note: Baby Alissa may want to read this in the future, when we're no longer living here. Mama, please don't destroy it, I know you want to.
I vowed not to cry anymore, if we survived the Great War.
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈
I was eleven years old when the world as I knew it came crashing down.
Veridonia, nestled between rolling hills and meandering streams, stood as a realm unto itself. It was designed to be a haven, separate from the dangers of the outside world. Veridonia was special because it was dangerously progressive; that's what the history books said.
"Ellie, the world outside tried to kill us all! But the brave military men made sure we stayed safe," Mama would recount.
The Verids, as the military was known, were a strange sight to behold. Clad in their peculiar clothing, wielding mahogany sticks and donning green, tube-like masks, they were frightening to little children like me. At the time, I couldn't grasp the complexities surrounding the presence of the Verids. Why were they even there? What was the reason? Why did they wear those masks everywhere like they were protecting themselves?
Veridonia seemed impenetrable because that's what everyone taught us, yet the looming figure of the Verids hinted at an unseen threat beyond our serene hills and streams. We couldn't exactly figure out what it was. How I wish I had understood then, for now, Baby Alissa will never know the world before.
Veridonia was our world, a place of magic and wonder. It was also the only world we knew of.
"Axelle Henderson, do not pluck those wildflowers!" Mama's voice would echo through the fields as I bent down to touch the flowers that bloomed all year round.
Wildflowers, the greatest emblem of our nation, held a deeper significance. Our teachers spoke of a time when Veridonia waged a fierce war against the outside world, emerging victorious against all odds. The remnants of that conflict, they said, gave birth to the resilient blooms that now adorned our land—a symbol of Veridonia's persevering spirit.
When the outsiders tried to siege Veridonia, my mama was a baby. She told me stories of how bravely her parents fought when they were left with no food or weaponry.
"It took five months, Axelle! Do you know what kept us alive? The-"
"Mangoes," I used to finish, smiling. Mama told me that story hundreds of times.
Mangoes used to be the only fruit that flourished on Veridonian soil. They kept the brave Veridonians alive throughout the months of bombing and gunfights that blasted across our land. Mangoes and wildflowers turned into a museum, reminding Veridonians of our resilience during the Great War.
Veridonia was wiped off the world map, and its existence became an ancient myth for everyone outside. Papa used to say that the world outside tried to take over Veridonia but failed, defeated miserably for the Verids.
Life in Veridonia was beautiful then. It was perfect.
Our school, Harmony Academy, stood as a testament to the unity that Veridonia held dear. The classrooms used to echo with the laughter of children, and the hallways were adorned with artwork depicting our triumphs against the rest of the world. The national anthem, a melodic hymn that spoke of unity and safety, used to play every morning, filling our hearts with pride for the land we called home.
My Yearbook from that year often evokes a pang of nostalgia for a time when the world seemed simpler, safer. Some of those names and pictures etched onto the Yearbook happened to be the only reminders of those children's existence. Many of them disappeared. Mama said they disappeared from the Enchanted Garden, our playground, where we used to have fun.
But that was six years ago.
The Enchanted Garden, where we once played, now lay in ruins.
Life, though seemingly idyllic, held secrets. Secrets that forced Mama to assume leadership among the Verids. Secrets that led to Papa's disappearance. Mama claimed Papa no longer loved us, yet his words of affection lingered in my memory, haunting me.
I was left with more questions than answers.
Mama assured us that Veridonia was the safest place on Earth, under the vigilant watch of the Verids. I once believed they kept us safe from external threats.
Now, I'm starting to believe that they're trying to keep everyone in Veridonia.
As I write these words for Baby Alissa, I grapple with the responsibility of passing on the truth hidden behind us. The world beyond Veridonia, once dismissed as dangerous, now beckons with promise. I could stay, but with each passing moment, Alissa's safety hangs in the balance.
And I dread what they might do to her.
The wildflowers, once symbols of victory, now serve as a haunting reminder. I haven't seen one in six years, not since Jessica's passing. No mangoes grew in Veridonia anymore.
With each passing day, the urge to venture beyond Veridonia's borders grows stronger. Mama's duties kept her occupied, leaving me to care for Baby Alissa. Baby Alissa, now four, refuses to listen to anyone that isn't me. Mama is often furious, but I stand my ground.
As Alissa grows, her curiosity about the world outside will inevitably blossom. I grapple with the decision to shield her from the grim reality of our past or empower her with the truth that shapes our existence. I didn't even know of the truth, but I could find out.
I will find out.
This is not the story of Veridonia. It is my story of Veridonia, as chronicled in these pages. It is not a mere recollection of my childhood. It reflects a world where I'm uncertain of what's happening and feel compelled to uncover the truth for Baby Alissa's sake. I don't know where the illusions lie and what the truth is, but I need to find out.
The only way to do that is forbidden.
Stepping outside.
The Disease first showed its insidious effects when I was just ten. Children, especially toddlers, fell sick and died, succumbing to organ failure amidst fits of bloody coughing. Mama used to be particularly careful when she let me outside the house, cleaning and sanitizing everything that I was going to touch. The Medici, tasked with our care, dismissed it as a mere virus, oblivious to the impending catastrophe.
Soon, an ominous substance blanketed the skies, obscuring the sun and draining color from Veridonia. Scientists theorized it to be a natural disaster. They didn't know of it yet, but it got much worse.
It wasn't a natural disaster. It was the Disease.
The worst time of the Disease was when the Death happened. It happened over the course of five days when everything was shut. Mama locked me in my bedroom, warning me never to open the door, not even a crack.
Through the flickering glow of the TV screen, I watched the horror unfold. Once bustling streets now lay silent, shrouded in a suffocating twilight. Skyscrapers, once monuments of Veridonian pride, stood as sentinels. Fear.
The children that waited outside, unaware of the Disease collapsed right there and then. Blood seeped out of their mouths as they convulsed, unable to breathe.
It was then that I realized, as did the Dominion Council, that the very air we breathed was poisoned. Children perished, and with them, hope dwindled. The future of Veridonia collapsed right in front of them.
And their parents were mercilessly killed by the Verids as punishment for bringing their children, the future of Veridonia outside. I only saw that once, with my own eyes. A mother dying. They never showed the parents dying on the TV but I saw it with my own eyes. It was terrifying.
The Dominion Council, faced with an existential threat, enacted strict measures. All children under eighteen were confined to their homes, while parents toiled to sustain our fragile existence. Any child found outside alive faced a fate worse than death—a fate that I dared not imagine. A fate that no one knew about, unless they were subjected to it.
In the initial days of the Disease, hundreds of children died on the streets, Veridonia covered in pools of blood. There used to be time to take them to the hospital but not anymore. The Disease acted faster than lightning. Further thousands of children disappeared, undocumented.
Mama, a member of the Dominion Council, issued orders for the Verids to take action. A new order emerged, dictating our every move, our every breath. Mama ventured out each day, while I remained confined, Baby Alissa my sole companion.
The sky, once a canvas of blue hues and bright displays, has become a somber palette of dangerous blacks and grays. The sun, once a beacon of warmth, cast no light upon Veridonia's desolate streets. And yet, amidst the darkness, an enigma lingered—a question unanswered.
What was in Veridonia's air?
For six long years, I knew only Mama and Baby Alissa. But soon, I would come of age, and with it, the freedom to step beyond the house! Mama doesn't want to celebrate but I do, so if she doesn't give me permission, I'll celebrate by myself with some help from Baby Alissa.
To me, the walls of our once-secure haven felt more like a prison now. The longing to breathe the unfiltered air, to feel the sun on my skin grew with each passing day. Baby Alissa, with her innocent eyes, often gazed at the closed door, curiosity brimming as if she sensed the world beyond. She was only four, but her intelligence surpassed that of a prodigy.
As the days counted down to my eighteenth birthday, a mix of excitement and anxiety settled within me. The TV broadcasts continued to tell us that some vigilantes were purposefully bringing children outside. However, we often heard the Dominion Council teach us about the safety within the confines of Veridonia. Yet, the flickering images couldn't suppress the memories etched in my mind—the collapse of children on the streets, the blood-soaked pavements, and the haunting silence that followed as parents cried for their children, just before their lives were ended by the Verids.
Mama, burdened by her role in the Council, rarely spoke of what lay beyond our sheltered existence. She was a puzzle. The conversations we used to have when I was eleven became a distant memory to me. I couldn't fathom the toll it took on her, but as my eighteenth birthday approached, I felt a shift in her. She was more tense than usual.
I'll keep updating, because I have not too much to do, if you exclude taking care that Baby Alissa doesn't wander too far away. Our house was big enough for a four year old to get lost in. She was an inquisitive little thing that won't stop for anything.
There were many who attempted to restore pre-Disease Veridonia. Some said that the old world was needed for freedom, and stability. The Dominion Council told everyone to ignore such attempts because they were ridiculous. Some children, albeit underage survived outside as they were chanting, "Our new world was born, the old world was lost." I've seen videos on the TV. These children were wearing rags, their voices shrill and robotic. They were almost frightening. Baby Alissa cried at the sight of them. Their eyes were bulging, red and freaky as they spoke with monotonous tones, even as they were being pulled by the Verids.
"Parents, please ensure any individuals below the age of eighteen remain inside your homes. There have been underage youth wandering the cities, spreading false rumors about how our new world was born. Any children found alive will be taken to the hospital for checks and treatment," General Walterson explained as Mama gasped beside me. "We presume that the Disease may have caused severe brain alteration for such children. We will keep you updated as our scientists resume their research. Thank you. Long live Veridonia!"
"May we live as long," Mama and I murmured as the TV shut off.
I chronicle my journey, not just for Baby Alissa, but for every soul within Veridonia yearning to break free from the chains that bound us. The pages of my report carried the echoes of a beautiful past and the promise of a liberated future.
Amid the chaos, a glimmer of hope remained—a hope that one day, the truth would set us free.
As the door of confinement would close behind me, The Enchanted Garden, now a symbol of loss, would witness the birth of a new era—one where the laughter of children would no longer be silenced, and where the truth, once hidden, would flourish like the wildflowers in the breeze.
I made a promise, to Alissa, to Mama, to everyone who dared dream of a better tomorrow.
I'll make it happen. For every Veridonian.
May we live as long.
And so, I would make the old world fade, and a new one, our world, would emerge from the ashes.
A phoenix.
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈
𝙲𝙷𝙰𝙿𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝚆𝙾𝚁𝙳 𝙲𝙾𝚄𝙽𝚃: 𝟸𝟶𝟼𝟿 𝚆𝙾𝚁𝙳𝚂
𝚃𝙾𝚃𝙰𝙻 𝚆𝙾𝚁𝙳 𝙲𝙾𝚄𝙽𝚃: 𝟸𝟺𝟽𝟶 𝚆𝙾𝚁𝙳𝚂