Molly
The zipper in the ground had always haunted me. Every day I would walk by it on my way to school with Thomas and Elsie, and I remembered how many people I’ve seen die because of it. Every time it was opened, I knew someone was a goner. There had to be so many dead bodies down there.
It seemed that once a week, somebody would be thrown down there by the government. Often times, it was for “crimes against authority”. My parents told me that often times, when they said “crimes against authority” that it meant that they had found out something that they shouldn’t. They were probably thrown in to keep them quiet, they said. Thomas and I, the two kids of the family who were old enough to understand, weren’t sure what to believe about it.
Nobody in Restless Isle really knew where the zipper came from. It was always there. It was only recently, though, that people said it became a part of the way of life. This year would mark the twentieth anniversary of the first death penalty to come by using the zipper. Elsie said that it was a mean thing to celebrate, and I completely agreed with her.
I don’t understand why I can’t let it go. It haunts me so much, and I try to let it go and forget about it, but it’s hard to. I have to pass by it every day. I have to remember all the stories that I’ve heard at sleepovers from friends.
And I have to remember the worst story of all of them. I have to remember the young couple that was thrown in there, less than a year before I was born. The woman was nine months pregnant, and the government threw the couple in there. The baby was innocent, yet they killed the little innocent child off too. It was inhumane and cruel.
I went through my complaints about it multiple times as I walked, practicing my speech. But, then, I heard a voice call out my name loudly. “Molly!” Thomas exclaimed frantically, waving his hand in front of my face.
I snapped out of my thoughts and looked at my brother. “What?” I asked, pulling my backpack up on my shoulder. “Thomas, I’ve told you not to do that. What’s wrong with you?”
“Look down,” he ordered me, and I did as I was told. My eyes were huge as I saw the toe of my high-tops touching the silver, metallic edge of the zipper, the one that haunted my dreams and my thoughts. I immediately stepped back, biting down on my lip hard.
I looked down the street, and saw the end of the zipper. The pull was there, waiting for a policeman to pull on it. Then, someone would be gone. I shuddered at the thought, and looked away from the sight to meet my brother’s eyes.
“Thanks,” I said softly to him, not sure what else I could even say. “Come on, guys. Let’s get to school.” I grabbed onto my little sister’s hand and led her off towards her elementary school. I spoke to my brother as we walked. “Why didn’t you tell me I was walking into the zipper?”
“I tried to, but you were in your own little world,” Thomas answered. “You were acting just like Elsie.”
Elsie looked up at him with a death glare that only a seven year old could put on. “Hey!”
I laughed, while Thomas stammered an apology. “Sorry, sis,” he said, running a hand through his dark hair, messing it up a bit. “Didn’t mean it.”
“Don’t worry, Tommy,” Elsie said cutely, smiling at him. “Now, come on!” she exclaimed, pulling on my arm. She also grabbed onto Thomas’s, and pulled on his arm as well as she ran off towards the school. I had to follow her, in order to keep my arm from being ripped out of my socket. She may be young, but she was definitely strong. She’d survive anything.
We arrived in front of Elsie’s school a bit later, and we said goodbye. “Have a good day at school, sis,” I told her with a smile. “Prove all those dumb boys at school wrong for me, okay?” Lately, some boys in Elsie’s class had been rude to her, and whenever she had an idea, they’d shoot it down.
“I will. Bye, Molly,” Elsie said, hugging me. “Bye Tommy. See you after school.” She hugged Thomas too, and then ran into the building.
I watched her go, a small smile on my lips. “She’s such a sweetheart,” I told my brother, smiling.
“She really is,” Thomas agreed with a smile. He then said, “Come on, Molly. We’ve got to get to school.” He looked down at the watch on his wrist and his eyes widened. “And it starts in ten minutes,” he said.
I cursed under my breath. Why did I let this happen? “Well, then let’s run!” I exclaimed, and we both started off at a sprint down the street. Sadly, this routine of running to school to make it before final bell was pretty normal in this family. We always spend so much time walking with Elsie that we almost don’t make it to class.
We both sprinted into the building at top speed, and skid down the halls. We don’t even stop at our lockers to drop our stuff off. We just run, and slide into our classrooms just as the bell rings.
“Mr. and Miss Wagner,” our teacher began, and I felt my cheeks heat up in the embarrassment I’m feeling. This, again, is a normal feeling.
“We made it before the bell,” Thomas reminds the man, and I nod in agreement. “So, we’re fine.”
“Yes, I guess you are,” the teacher says. “Go take a seat.” He obviously isn’t happy that he has to do this for us, but I’m grateful this happened. I went to my seat in the middle of the classroom and plop down into the desk, pulling out the notes from last night’s reading.
The boy in front of me leaned back to tell me something. “You and your brother are lucky,” he told me.
“Why?” I asked him.
“Because Mr. P. doesn’t complain about you guys. You get it easy,” he told me.
“Mr. Robertson!” Mr. P. calls out. “Be quiet, and review your notes!”
“Yes, sir,” the guy said, looking down at his paper. I looked down at the sheet too, and found my notes. Our reading last night had been about the zipper. It all came back to the zipper. What we had to do was do some reading, and then come up with the conclusion whether to keep using it as part of a death penalty or to zip it up and keep it closed forever. My side was obvious, even without the reading.
It needed to stop. It needed to stop right now. It was barbaric and cruel, in my opinion, letting them fall to their death. A bullet to the head or the heart would be quicker and painless, better for the people than falling and waiting to hit the ground and break their necks. Maybe, the death penalty should just be eradicated completely. It’d be better for everyone too, right? Nobody has to die!
Instead of reading my notes over again, I did something different. I imagined our city, Restless Isle, without the zipper. I imagined it without the penalty. I imagined it happy, free, and without any problems. I didn’t imagine it without any crime, since I knew this was impossible, but I imagined it without the huge crimes that in our society would warrant the death penalty.
Thomas looked over at me from the other side of the room, mouthing for me to get to work and stop daydreaming. His order only made me want to think about it more. My mind was already gone. It was gone with the innocent people who had been pushed into the pit for a crime that really hadn’t been committed by them.
“Miss Wagner…” Mr. P. called out to me again. And I was done. “Miss Wagner!”
I looked up at him. “Yes?” I asked.
“Are you reviewing the notes?”
“No, sir,” I said confidently.
“Oh? And why is that?” Mr. P. asked me.
“Because I already have my stance on the zipper,” I explained.
“You do?” Mr. P. asked me. When I nodded, he said, “Then come up here.” I did so, biting down on my lip a bit.
When I reached the front of the room, I said, “So, what do you want me to do?”
“Give us your stance,” he told me. “Tell us your thoughts on the zipper.”
I nodded slowly, and faced the class. “The zipper just down the street is a terrible punishment. It’s barbaric and cruel. Whenever a person is thrown in, they wait so long for death to come. Do we know how deep that chasm is?”
Someone in the back row stifled a laugh at my use of the word “chasm”. “That’s dumb,” they mumbled.
“Miss McAllister, wait your turn,” Mr. P. ordered. He turned to me. “Continue, Miss Wagner.”
“Thank you,” I said softly. Then, I kept going. “The only nice thing to do when you’re going to kill someone is to make it quick and painless, so they don’t have to suffer through it. A gunshot to the head would be so much better if we were going for that. Are we, the people of Restless Isle, so inhumane as to do something like this?” Then, I posed the real, huge question that would really shake things up. “Or, better yet, why not just get rid of the death penalty in the first place? Wouldn’t that be so much better for everyone?”
The whole room went silent. Even Mr. P. had nothing to say. I finished up my little argument with, “The zipper should be closed, forever. Thank you.” I went back to my seat, proud of my words.
Mr. P. took a long while to figure out what to say next. “Okay, well, thank you, Miss Wagner, for that. Now, who wants to go next?” His eyes scanned the room before landing on a dark-haired male on the opposite side of the room: Thomas. “Mr. Wagner, how about you?”
Thomas opened his mouth to protest, but then realized that no matter what he’d say, he wouldn’t get out of it. “Okay,” he said, getting up and walking to the place I stood just a few seconds before. “I believe that-,” he began, but was immediately cut off.
Our neighbor, Peter ran into the room. “Hey! Everyone!” He exclaimed, sounding slightly out of breath. Everyone’s heads turned away from my brother to face Peter, surprised. Nobody ever ran in and interrupted class like that, especially not in Mr. P.’s class. The only time I remembered that happening in recent history was the last time someone was thrown in the zipper. Normally, those death sentences would happen over the weekend, so everyone could attend. But, that one couldn’t wait, so they had it during the school day on a Monday morning.
Oh great. Please, please don’t tell me that someone’s been sentenced. Not today, not when I just gave that incredible speech. It had to have changed at least one person’s mind, right?
“Mr. Applegate, why are you interrupting my class?” Mr. P. asked Peter, his arms crossed over his chest. Yeah, Mr. P. was ticked off. Peter, you’d better have a good explanation, or you’ll be thrown in the zipper next time.
“There’s been a sentencing down at the courthouse,” Peter said, taking a few breaths to make sure that we could hear him. He was breathing pretty hard. He must have sprinted down the halls, just like Thomas and I do every morning. “Mitchell Oliver, he’s been sentenced to the zipper.”
The silence fell over the room again. This time, it was even worse than after I had spoken up. Uh oh.
The silence remained in the room until the boy in front of me spoke up again. “Mitchell Oliver’s getting zipped?” The boy sounded shocked, which didn’t surprise me. Mitchell was only eighteen, a few years older than me. His birthday was a few weeks ago, making him completely eligible for adult consequences, which included the zipper death penalty. I frowned. Mitchell had been so nice when we were all littler. What had happened? What had changed in him that had caused him to change so drastically?
What had he done? Who did he kill? What did he steal?
I had to have been hearing things. They didn’t say Mitchell Oliver. I’m just hearing things. Yeah, that’s got to be it. Mitchell wouldn’t do anything like that, ever, no matter what was going on!
“Yeah, Mitchell Oliver,” Peter said. And there went my hope, down the pit with all the other criminals.
“Now hurry up! The zipper’s opening in ten minutes!” Peter ran out of the room. As soon as he was gone, we all hopped up and ran out of the room. As much as I didn’t want to see someone plummet to their death, I had to follow. I was determined to make the haunting end, and it would only happen with watching it head on.
But why, why did it have to be Mitchell?
I ran towards the zipper, nervous as I moved. This couldn’t be happening, could it? I needed to calm down. But, how could I? Mitchell had been a great friend when I was younger. My mom was his babysitter when we were littler, and we’d hang out every day, just the three of us. Elsie hadn’t been born yet. It was just the three of us.
I heard the sound of feet pounding on the ground next to me. I turned to look at the person running next to me, and was surprised. “Thomas?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he said.
“What’s up?” I asked him. Normally, once school started, we didn’t talk. Once the last bell rang, talking to each other was fair game.
“Are you okay?” Thomas asked, as he jogged next to me.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I answered. “Just freaked out.”
“Is it because it’s Mitchell?” Thomas asked me. Why did he have to know me so well?
“Yeah,” I said softly. “He just…he changed. What happened to him?”
“Molls,” he began, using my childhood nickname (to which I cringed). “Everybody changes. It’s a part of life.”
“Since when did you become so mature?” I asked. At that moment, we could see the crowd of people already surrounding the zipper. Through the gaps between people, I could see flashes of silver. There was the pull. Mitchell would be waiting there, ready to fall.
“Since I’m the oldest,” Thomas answered, snapping me out of my thoughts of the zipper and death. He had a small smirk on his lips at that moment.
“By ten minutes!” I exclaimed.
“I’m still older,” Thomas reminded me.
“Ugh,” I moaned. “Whatever.”
Thomas laughed a bit. “But still. Everyone changes. Mitchell wasn’t always going to be that good boy that would hang out at our house every afternoon until fourth grade.”
“I can wish that he was,” I admitted.
Thomas sighed and shrugged. “Come on. The class is getting ahead of us,” he told me. Then, he sped up to catch up with the rest of the class.
I sighed, and followed him to the edge of the zipper, ready to watch Mitchell fall to his death.
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A/N Hey, everyone! I hope you guys all are enjoying this so far. I came up with this idea about a week ago after a language arts writing prompt, and I just really wanted to write it.
Please, feel free to give feedback in the comments, and vote and fan! Thanks for reading! See you guys later.