Quarantine

• Margaret Collins, Grade 6
• Short Story
• 2017

Rubbish pounded down on the pile of other unwanted trash left by humans. There were decades of filth, rotting away slowly. A rusty tin can here, an old shoe there. Whatever it was, this was Ace’s home.

Sometimes, she would lay on ripped up old pillowcases and dream of how once, in her vague, forgotten memory, she had been thrown away, along with the other repugnant filth. Ace laid her head against something soft and plush, like a stuffed, animal toy. She opened her eyes and turned around on her stomach to see what it was. She extended her long, skinny arm out to grab the strange creature.
Ace had always wanted a dog, well she had wanted a live one, but this was as good as she would get. She was excited when she found a taxidermied, golden retriever. She clutched the dead dog to her bony chest, thanking whoever was listening.

What she said, she hadn’t meant to be answered. A faint screaming was heard in the distance from the old, decayed building upon the hill. It wasn’t really a hill, it was just a rubbish mound with sun bleached yellow grass sprouting from the rotted scraps of other people’s lost memories. Ace dropped to her scarred hands and knees and cautiously crawled up, feeling the night time dew tickle the inside of her wrists as she inspected the mysterious sound.
“Huh?” Ace was confused by what she found. A baby, a proper living baby. She walked over to the screaming infant, towering over her little scrunched up face. Her? Ace identified that the baby was a girl, just from the look in her sky blue eyes.

“Skylar,” Ace was holding the baby at arms length, admiring her handy work. She had wrapped the baby up in a pillowcase tinted green by grass stains. Ace looked deep into the baby’s eyes and knew her name immediately, her name was Skylar.

Ace tiptoed out of the entry house, being wary not to wake the sleeping baby curled up in a broken, weaved basket in the corner. She stumbled towards the rubbish heap to scrounge for some food to eat. As she flicked trash aside she spotted a silhouette upon the horizon. She hobbled over to collect her golden retriever by the muzzle then dashed over to the entry house to wake the sleeping child.

“Mummy!” Ace wanted to call out to the strange figure of a person as they approached her family. The silhouette’s hair swayed in the morning breeze. The light from the morning sun lit up the character’s slim, feminine face. The person saw Ace and broke into a gollop, arms outstretched with love in her eyes.

Ace started to run, Skylar in one arm, the retriever in the other, ponding towards the figure, who Ace knew she was destined for. “Rachel!” Ace stopped short, unable to comprehend what was happening. The figure arrived and cradled Ace’s head in her lanky arms. “I am your real mother.”