The World's End | ONC 2024

ੈ✩‧₊˚ |𝟬𝟭| 𝗔𝘅𝗲𝗹𝗹𝗲 𝗛𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗼𝗻'𝘀 𝗡𝗼𝘁𝗲𝘀

"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.