The Little Mask Girl

by Audrey Myers

I shiver as I walk, trying to get warm. Today in Metro City, the weather is miserably cold. Ever since the nuclear war where Americans fought against each other, the weather has been off. It is either extremely hot or bitterly cold, never in between. In the war, everything was destroyed, leaving us with no food or places to sleep. 

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Metro City is the only city to have survived. Many people didn’t survive the war, and if they did, they died of the Nucleonic Plague. The Nucleonic Plague makes your body shake violently and turns your skin a grayish color. It attacks your nervous system until your body shuts down. Millions of people died, all because of the toxic fumes from the nuclear bombs. 

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The plague was spread so quickly from person to person that everything was shut down suddenly, and we were stuck in our homes for months. My entire family died from it, including my beloved Aunt Rosa. I remember her holding my hand as she called my name. “Lulu,”she whispered as she stopped breathing. My name was her last word. Suddenly I had lost everything, and I was surrounded in chaos, lost in the havoc as everyone was allowed to leave their homes. Everyone had to wear masks or risk getting the plague. I had two choices. I could push the grief away and sell masks, or I could succumb to the grief, letting it swallow me up. 

 

I pull my ragged jacket tighter around me as another gust of wind chills me. My golden curls whip in the frigid wind causing them to tangle. My name is Lulu, and I’m twelve years old.  Everyone always told me that I was very beautiful, but I have never cared about such things as that. I only ever cared about my bright green eyes that were the exact same shade as my Aunt Rosa, who was the kindest woman I had ever met. She had the most beautiful laugh and always was eager to go on exciting adventures with me. My parents were always leaving me, and my aunt was the person who stayed with me, who loved me. When she died, I was heartbroken. 

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Most of my memories are with her, and every time I let myself reminiscence, I fall apart. I never knew pain like this until my aunt died. I remember a night when my father hit me, and she held me the entire night. After that incident she always kept me close by her side. Tears well in my eyes as I think of her. She left me here in this dark world. I squeeze my eyes shut and push my tears away. Crying won’t help me stay warm or get food. 

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I look up at the towering skyscrapers above my head and smile as I see a little bird perched on a ledge--a small little creature that can make me forget my pain. I haven’t seen a bird in so long, not since before the war started. It’s a beautiful shade of blue, and it sings a soft melody that drifts through the air. 

 
Watching the little bird, I’m not looking where I’m going when I run into somebody. I fall to the ground hard and look up to see a boy. He wears ragged clothes, and his light brown hair falls into his eyes. On the ground, rice lies everywhere. He holds his empty paper bag in his hands as his mask falls down a bit. He hurries to straighten it as he stares at me.

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“I’m so sorry,” I say as I start scooping the rice up in my fingers. 

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As if snapping out of a daze, the boy drops to the ground and shoves rice into his bag. I lean forward to grab the last pile of rice just as  he does, and we smack our foreheads against each other. The boy reels back and grabs at his forehead.

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“Ouch! You know, you should really watch where you’re going,” he says.

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I look down as my gold necklace falls out of my blue shirt. It is all I have left of my aunt; my last connection to her. It’s a gold pendant with flowers engraved on it and my aunt’s initials carved into it.  The boy stares at it as if mesmerized by it. He then suddenly snatches it from my neck, breaking the clasp. He stands up and sprints down the street.

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“Hey! Come Back!” I scream as I run after him.

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He’s a really fast runner. He weaves in and out of the crowd. My skinny legs can’t keep up with him as he disappears in the crowd of people. I let out a frustrated cry as my legs throb with pain. I sit down on a crate that lies in the sidewalk. I start to cry as I realize I just lost the last treasure of my old life. He stole the last piece of Aunt Rosa I had left. I pull my mask up around my nose as it starts to fall down. Large, hot tears fall down my face making my cheeks wet. 

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“Why?” I whisper, “Why must I go through this pain?”

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Nobody answers as I sit there. Nobody cares. I’m utterly and completely alone. Nobody knows little twelve-year-old Lulu. I’m  just an orphan who wants a home. I’m a little girl who just wants her aunt to wrap her arms around her, but I won’t ever get any of these things. I wrap my arms around myself as I try to get a hold on myself. My stomach grumbles, reminding me that I haven’t eaten in two days. 

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When I first started selling masks, everybody bought them because everybody needed one. I made enough money to buy food and clothes when needed. After things calmed down and everybody had bought masks, I started to sell fewer masks every day. I’m lucky now to even sell one mask a day. If things keep up like this, I’m going to need to find something to sell for food, or else I’ll be dead in the next few days. 

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I stand up and brush off my overly large, brown pants. “Time to get to work,” I tell myself. I scan the crowd of people, looking for the best customer to sell to. A man stands outside of a restaurant checking his watch every few seconds, as he taps his foot impatiently. I know he won’t care about what I’m selling, so I turn my attention to an old woman who walks down the street, leaning heavily against her cane. She wears a brightly colored dress and has a matching face mask. I wave to her, knowing if I smile she won’t be able to tell through the mask. As I get closer, her eyes crinkle like she’s smiling under the mask.

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“Good afternoon,” I say as I try to speak in the sweetest voice I can muster. Most people will buy masks from a cute twelve-year-old; at least before the war people had a soft spot for children. The war has hardened us all. “Would you be interested in buying a mask?”

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I take the masks out of my pocket and show them to her. She listens intently as I show her the different colors and sizes I have. When I’m done, I look at her expectantly. She takes her little purse off her arm and places a little coin in my hand.

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“You’re so cute,” she says as she pats my arm before walking away.

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I stand there, the coin resting in my hand, not knowing what just happened. I look down at the coin realizing that it won’t even buy a piece of bread. People usually buy my masks, especially old people. I look up and down the street, but it is empty. No more customers to try to get enough money for food. Another day without food leads to one day closer to death. 

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The sun starts to set, casting a majestic orange across the city. I turn down the street and start to walk to my little shelter. I pass families going home, probably to eat dinner. I watch them with hunger gnawing at me, not physical hunger, but hunger for a family. I walk by a screen on the side of a building, and on it, a person tells us to remember to wear our masks. She warns us that toxic levels have gone up and that if we don’t wear our masks, we will be arrested. 

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I stop in front of a four-story apartment building that is squeezed in between two other buildings. There’s a small opening in between the buildings that leads to an alley. Squeezing through the narrow passage, I walk until I get to the little opening where my temporary home lies. A little blanket is pinned up in the corner to shield me from the wind, and my bed is a trash bag filled with feathers. An old cardboard box with a battery powered lantern  I repaired sits next to my “bed.”

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As I curl up in my shelter, snowflakes start to fall in little fluffs. The wind starts to blow harder making my cheeks burn. I rub my hands together as I try to get warm.

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I look down at the masks sticking out of my pocket, and I’m suddenly tempted to try one on. I wonder what it's like to wear a mask that is nice instead of one that is threadbare. I pick up one with black and white stripes on it and finger the soft material in my hand. It won’t hurt anything just to try one on. I hurry to take off my threadbare one and replace it with the striped one. As soon as the soft material touches my face, I smell roasted meat. I close my eyes as smells of food envelope me. I snap my eyes open and look around, but there’s no food in sight. I close my eyes again as I smell rolls with honey drizzled on them. I imagine them in my head as I smell the different kinds of food. There’s fruit of all different kinds, foods dipped in chocolate, and my favorite, roasted ham. The smell disappears suddenly, and I open my eyes. 

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I take the mask off and replace it with a pink one. This time my nose is filled with perfumes. There’s rose, lavender, and something I can’t quite place. I imagine myself in a perfume store walking down the aisles, smelling the different perfumes. The store manager  comes up to me and asks me if I needed anything, but I  tell him no as I spray some citrus smelling perfume on myself. I smile as the smells die away. I sit up and hurry as I quickly replace the mask.

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My nose is filled with trees and plants. I remember Aunt Rosa taking me into the woods one time where we camped out for the night. The scents in the mask smell exactly how I remember the woods. This time I imagine myself walking through the trees as I breathe in the smell of nature. Little animals scurry across the forest floor as I approach them. All too soon, the smell fades until I’m left again in the cold of my shelter. 
 

I pull on the final mask which is a beautiful gold one made out of silk. A smell invades my nostrils, this one very familiar. Rose petals, lavender, and a pine smell overwhelm me until I figure out what the smell is. It’s Aunt Rosa’s perfume! It came in a beautiful crystal bottle, and when I asked if I could put some on, she would spray a tiny amount on me. I would smile the entire day, knowing that I smelled exactly like my Aunt Rosa. 
 

Singing fills the air, and my eyes shoot open to find my aunt standing there. Her long brown hair cascades down her back in curls, and she wears a dress that is as white as snow. She is glowing in a golden light, and she smiles at me.

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“It’s time for you to join me, Lulu,” she says softly.

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I smile as I run to her and throw my skinny arms around her. She kisses the top of my head and hugs me tightly against her. I’ve missed her more than words can describe. 

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“I’ve waited for you to return to me for so long. I’ve missed you so much,” I cry as tears fall down my face. 

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“I love you, my sweet Lulu.”

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“I love you too,” I say as her golden light blinds me.

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I’m completely surrounded by the light. It fills me and makes me whole.

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The sun rises the next morning, and Metro City awakens. Harry, the boy who stole Lulu’s necklace, walks past a four-story apartment building. In his hand, he holds the necklace that he stole yesterday. Last night, he felt awful after stealing it and decided not to sell it, so he set out today to return it to its owner. He spends the entire morning, asking everyone if they’ve seen her. One beggar tells him that he saw her walk by a four-story apartment building. 

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That's how he ends up staring up at the building, wondering where she could have gone. There’s a narrow passage next to the building, but she couldn’t have fit through there. She was pretty small though, and the homeless found shelter in every crack they could find. Harry squeezes between the two buildings into the passage. It’s so tight he can barely move as he scoots along. The passage opens up into a small opening. He walks through but suddenly stops in his tracks.

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There lies the girl on the ground. She lies in the snow, smiling peacefully. Her skin is blue, and her lips lifeless. Harry can’t believe she’s dead. She can’t be. She must be sleeping. He squats down and presses a finger to her neck, but there’s no pulse. She must have frozen to death last night. The temperature dropped below zero last night. He falls back on the snow and stares at her beautiful face. The necklace still lies in his hand, a cold reminder of what he had done. He takes the necklaces and puts it around her neck. 

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Harry stands up and looks one more time at the girl. She lies there, her golden curls lying on her chest. Her gold necklace on her neck and her hands clasped together. He doesn’t even know her name. Snow starts to fall again as he walks away. He will never know her name, if she had family, or even what she liked to do. He will never get to know the little mask girl.

The End

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About the Author

Audrey Myers is in 10th grade and attends Riley High School.

She enjoys writing dystopian and historical fiction.

She is working on writing a trilogy and hopes to publish it someday. 

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