THE LOCKET OF LIFE AND DEATH

A fairytale that may be more than fiction, bedtime story turned waking nightmare… 

By Ava Toland, age 12

The crack in the door. Just enough for me to see my Papa’s benevolent face, etched with wrinkles and scars, frowning over another page of old drawings. Papa collapsed back into his chair, exhaling with a melancholy sigh. Then a whisper of something inaudible.

“Are you ok Papa?” I asked, from the door.

“Lucinda, what are you still doing up? You have school tomorrow and it is getting extremely late!” he replies but with a small smile as if my face brought light to his sorrow, “come on, I’ll tell you a bedtime story but then you must promise to go to sleep after that,”

“Promise,” I said, crawling into bed. Tiredness weighing down on my eyelids like two heavy weights. “Can you tell the one about the locket?”

“Again, I’ve told it to you so many times!”

“Pleasssee” I begged.

“Fine...Once there lived a princess with hair as soft as silk and eyes the colour of the ocean. She was the happiest girl in the kingdom. Do you remember why she was so happy?”

“Because she had fallen in love with a prince!”

“Yes, and on the day, they were to marry, the princess would be presented with a locket from the elders of the kingdom. This locket possessed the power to bring loved ones back from the dead just in case they ever lost one another. However, some people from the kingdom wished that they could possess the locket and its powers, and the greed burned within their souls. Hours after the wedding, the princess and the prince were separated, and the Locket vanished. So, Legend has it, ‘that thou who were loved by the princess, will be able to find and nurture its power once again,”

Turning gently to Papa I said, “If only we had the locket, then we could bring Mama back to life!”. My Papa never spoke about Mama’s death, apparently, she died when I was born but I guess it brings him to much sadness to speak of her.

“I know darling, who knows, perhaps one of these days we will, and Mama’s arms will be wrapped around us once again.”

I saw a teardrop crawl down his face and a river begin to form in his despairing eyes. If only I was the daughter of the princess, then maybe I would find the locket? Then maybe my Papa wouldn’t be so bereaved, and I would have a Mama.

Papa looked at me and paused “Darling, before you go to sleep, I must tell you something. I need to go away. I need to go somewhere for reasons that I cannot explain to you. You will be safe here with Uncle Sebastian, I promise,”

A tear falls, and he wipes it away, but I just stare at him. Hate, anger, love, sadness, and curiosity beating in my heart. How could he do this to me? After all we’ve been through!

“So, you’re going to leave me, just like that! You don’t care in the slightest about my feelings, do you? You just stay locked up in that stupid room instead taking care of me and yet you cannot tell me why!” I scream at him. “So, you’re just going to leave me just like mama did!”

At this, we’re both crying. I am so mad at him but at the same time he is my Papa and I love him to death. I give him a hug, supressing the fire, and he kisses me on the forehead.

The next morning when I woke, he was gone, and I was left with my Uncle Sebastian.

We got on well of course, but he wasn’t Papa. He never told me stories before bed or looked at me with such love when I walked in the door from school. There was a stern look that made Itself comfortable on his face. I had a feeling it was going to be there for a long time.

“Ok, Lucinda I’m afraid I am a little stricter than your Papa and this world is changing rapidly he preached, “That means you are to keep a low profile at all times and limit the time you spend outside the house.”

Everything was changing so quickly. Nothing made sense anymore and yet I was still expected to just pretend that nothing was happening.

Years passed and I celebrated my thirteenth birthday last week. No phone calls, postcards, Nothing from Papa. Not even on my birthday. My worst fears unfolding, will he ever return? Suddenly, Uncle Sebastian bursts into my room and closes the blinds, muttering that he is protecting me from danger. Feeling claustrophobic and anxious, I escaped to the back garden, got on my bike, and pushed through the gates. I couldn’t help noticing these five black vans parked across the street. All lined up perfectly, facing the same direction. Men in black hoodies stared straight at me. Somehow, I didn’t take note of the strangeness and focussed on the smaller details that no one seems to notice. Admiring the beauty, just like how Papa loved the beauty of wrinkles etched into those tiny bits of paper he used to stare at for hours.

The wind kissed my hair as I sped down country lanes, trees and bushes running past me, cars frowning their devilish eyes at my speed, but who cared. This is the only time I felt free from all the weight of my life. As the wind gushed passed, the image of the black vans opposite the house came flooding into my mind. Like dots on a Monet painting.

The sun smiled over the town as it slowly passed over its duties to the moon just as I pulled up to the house. The black vans were still there across the street but no men in the front seat.

I reluctantly walked to the door, already fearing Uncle Sebastian’s wrath, but there were no sounds. The house seemed dead. I opened the door, and it was pitch black, silent.

Until a hoarse voice was spoken from the kitchen.

Gushing water felt like it was pouring into my head as my heart climbed up my throat. Fear anchored me to the floor. I managed to switch on the hallway light. Glass. Broken furniture. Smashed plates. Blood. All swimming across the floorboards. Cupboards were thrown open, chairs were smashed across the floor, cushions burst.

The light now washed across the image splattered across the floor. His limbs were bent into all sorts of awful positions and his eyelids were weighed down, fighting to stay open. That’s when I saw the crimson liquid pouring out from behind my uncle’s head. I dropped to my knees and held him tight. So much going through my head, so much confusion, I couldn’t lose someone else in my life.

“Uncle Sebastian! Uncle Sebastian! Wake up! Wake up,” I sob into his shoulder.

“Lu-Lucinda, you need to listen to me,” He croaked, “There is no time to explain but they are coming for you, they will come back for you, and they will do all they can to get a hold of you and your Papa.

“You need to go to his office as fast as you can, grab everything you need, water and food. You must grab his diary. Promise you will run at the speed of light as far away as you can and find shelter. There is so much you don’t know – “then silence as his last breath touched my face. His body went stiff.

Blood staining my hands, I just sobbed trying to pull myself together. What was it that I didn’t know? Who was after me? All I knew, is that I had to leave.

Terrified, I grabbed my school backpack, tripping over glass and furniture whilst filling it with cans of peaches, baked beans, bottles of water. Finally, I entered Papa’s office which was still as he left it. This tiny, decrepit room where his smell still lingered, wrapping me in his familiarity. However, I didn’t have a whole lot of time, so I briskly rummaged through the draws till I found his old leather diary. The pages were faded to a warm yellow and the leather had countless wrinkles but right in the middle of the front cover were a few words: ‘to write our memories’. Running my fingers over the wrinkles before I threw it into the bag, adding little scraps of paper that Papa had collected as well as a box of matches and a candle.

With the bag strapped tightly round my shoulder, I began to run. Run. Run. Run. Zero idea where I was going but I kept on running until I felt like I was far away from the house. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted the five black vans racing around the corner, devilish spots of white peering from out of there black hoods. There was no time to think as the vehicles sped closer and closer. All I could do was hide under a thick bush.

I heard the 5 vehicles come to a holt; their brakes skidded across the road. One man walked so close to the bushes that I could smell the varnish on his shoes. The leather creaked as he turned his heels around back towards the car door. “We need to capture her. She can’t have gone far, let’s check out the main street “. The doors of all five cars slammed.

I didn’t dare move until the stars lightly spoke in the night sky, I pulled out my Papa’s journal and began to read.

The locket is still alive. And where I find the locket, I find her. After all these years, she will finally be in my arms,”

I couldn’t believe it; my Papa’s bedtime stories were real! The locket did exist!

Reading on my father’s handwriting still visible - I’ve found only a few pieces of paper to lead me to its location, according to the paper I am analysing right now there are only three clues and locations, and the last one holds ‘the flame that leads to life and death’ which could only mean the locket, but I don’t know what it means by the flame. After finding the two clues and locations, I can’t figure out where the third location is. I’ll have to leave here but I couldn’t do that to Lucinda, she has no idea what the truth is, and I plan for it to stay that way. I cannot lose her like I have lost Mirabelle.

What!? Was this the truth? So much was revealed to me in a short paragraph and why hadn’t I thought to read his diary before. ‘Mirabelle’ was she, my Mama? The sensation of gushing water flooded my brain again. My shortness of breath clutched at my lungs. I had to find him, the locket and all before the men in the Vans found me. I pulled out the wrinkled bits of paper, and lit the candle.

Holding the pieces of paper above the flame the heat revealed the invisible writing. Words appeared - Iravi Jungle, Navarre, the darkness - The words knocked around in my mind till I remembered something my Papa had told me in one of the bedtime stories.

‘In Navarre there is the Iravi Jungle. The tree of darkness which harnesses the power of death, which is inside the Jungle. Anyone who walks near the darkness will be cursed for all eternity,”

I knew of a cargo train that leaves every night at midnight to Navarre taking supplies to the locals. It takes off from Calle lateral station in half an hour; I may just make it. Hopefully Papa is there in Navarre.

Running through the backstreets of La Rioja it didn’t feel safe, but I managed to sneak onto the back carriage of the cargo train. I didn’t look back to see if anyone else had spotted me. ‘CHOO, CHOO!’ Screamed in my ear as the train departed. Light flooded the carriage, starving I took out the canned peaches and ate for the first time in hours. As I ate, I realised that I had no idea how to get to the jungle or even where to look in the jungle for the tree of darkness. The train weaved through the hills for what seemed like hours. Worried to fall asleep I propped my head up by the backpack waiting for Navarre. A familiar accent bellowed above the sound of the train on tracks.

“Right! Let’s look around for this girl. We saw her board the train.”

They were here.

Navarre was the next stop. Grabbing an old dusty cloth off one of the containers, praying that the darkness of the night would shield my every movement I crawled towards the open doors. As the train was slowing to a stop, I leapt off the train. Rolling on the hard stone. Still covered in the cloth I pulled myself to the side of the track. Exhausted and scared I lay on the hard stone for what felt like days. The sky looked clear; the platform empty. Could the men have stayed on the train to the next stop. Without proof, I had to keep moving before the dawn broke. The town was empty, and I had no idea of where the Jungle was from here. Hopeless and alone I re-read the piece of paper. Flame, what is the Flame? It was then that I saw a man in the distance by a statue. A large house loomed over the manicured grounds and there in front stood a statue with the most glorious flames.

“Come along?” I hear a familiar voice call after the dogs in the courtyard. I rush over to the man by the statue, those benevolent eyes I had missed so much, those wrinkled hands warm as they ran across my face.

“Lucinda, what are you doing here?” He croaked. With that he held me so tight, I felt safe for the first time in six years and felt so loved within the embrace. Lucinda, I have so much to tell you but we don’t have much time. It has taken me all these years to finally find the location of the locket and the final part to the clues. It is here in the grounds, and I have been digging and searching days on end trying to find the locket. I haven’t been able to return to you as I knew the men were watching the house waiting for me to return with the locket and your....

You see the story about the locket, the princess and the prince is actually the story of our family. I am the prince of Navarre and your mother the princess. You see when the villagers came after us we had to be separated and your mama told me to take care of you and shield you from everything. So, we parted, and your mother left to the Jungle. But I knew how desperate you were without your mother so I vowed to myself that I would work tirelessly search until I understood the clues that lead to the locket. As the legend goes ‘that thou who were loved by the princess, will be able to find and nuture its power once again” and with that I would possess the power to bring loved ones back from the dead.

If your mother is alive, then we can all be together again as a family if she has met with tragedy in the Jungle then with the locket, we can bring her back from the dead and our love will live on. Although there may be a sacrifice as the villagers will never rest knowing that we hold the locket.

Are you happy to live away from our home if it meant we were all together as one again? At that thought I remembered Uncle Sebastian and cried continuously. I couldn’t stop. Now the sensation of gushing water rushing through my head was now pouring out of my body. I blurted out that Uncle Sebastian was dead.

I had wished my whole life to be together as a family. To be tucked into bed at night and told bedtime stories. If this meant, we had to live somewhere in the Jungle I was ready. I knew I couldn’t go home with the memories and threat of danger.

Papa had been working as a groundsman for the family with the flame statue and had relentlessly been digging around the flame statue. He only had a small area to excavate but it was in plain sight of the main house. He had the owners’ dogs around his feet, barking and jumping on him loudly as I was unfamiliar to them. Moving towards the side of the courtyard I leaned against the railings watching Papa dig the final bit of earth by the statue. As I leaned on the railings watching the sun start to rise. The familiar sight of the black vans rolled into the high street of Navarre.

Trying to scream without noise and making a fuss, Papa couldn’t hear me. He kept digging as the dogs barked tirelessly. The front door to the main house had a large bell and I was worried that at any moment the door would open, and the bell would make a large noise alerting the men in Van to see what the commotion was. I had to run to Papa, to tell him. Running across the courtyard, the final blow of the spade revealed the ancient locket catching the light from the morning sun. There it shone in all its glory. It was possible to finally get to my mother. Papa grabbed the locket and my hand, and we ran as fast as we could away from the house and into the Jungle to search for my mother.