Based on this image drawn by duxia. I wanted to write something a little different and explore a different POV to what I'm used to. I think I did alright at writing from a child's perspective, even if I'm sick in bed.
[Visual Awakening]
[Word count: 1,924]
[Written on: 8.11.2014 at 6:32pm]
‘Visual Awakening.’ That’s what they call it, the day that your eyes grow in your skull and suddenly everything is bright and there are colours and you can see the world for everything that she is rather than everything you hoped she would be. When a child gets their eyes, there’s this big ceremony, a huge party at the centre of the Village where everybody feasts and we all prey to the Gods. Then there is a sacrifice; the Elders of the community believe that the price for clarity is twice that of which it costs for sight. For every one person who is shown reality, another who is still burdened with innocence must give their life to thank the Gods for their gift. We are picked by the Elders, all lined up dressed nicely for them in our best clothes. They inspect us carefully and then the Elders vote on which of us will be blessed with the opportunity to please our beloved Gods. Last month it was Timothy. His parents cried when the Elders chose him. I’m not sure why, it’s such an honour to be able to lay down and give our lives. Father tells me every day that I must be ready to depart if ever I am chosen. That I must smile and must not cry and all. I can weep happy tears if I must, because I am so young and do not understand how to control my emotions, but I must not get confused and be sad. He says that sadness does not please the Gods. That if I were to be picked and were to cry they would rain down a terrible plague onto us and everybody would suffer greatly.
Timothy cried a little but I was allowed to go up and talk to him. I calmed him down and let him know that everything was going to be alright. The Gods still killed half of our crops though; I heard Mother and Father talking about it at dinner after a couple of days later. Now Timothy’s parents are gone they have grown back. I think they were asked to leave there would have been a ceremony if they had have been killed by the Gods. It was lucky they did leave. Their house burnt to the ground and cried out in pain. Mother said it was the soul of the house crying out because it was so sad to have held such faithless people inside, but it would be happy to be finally released from that burden. I placed a flower where the house had been before but Father yelled at me. He said that the Gods would find it disrespectful of me even though I was only trying to be nice to the spirit of the house. He made me take the flower away and crumple it up. It still had its thorns and I cut my hand open on it, Father told me that it was the Gods punishing me for my actions. I felt bad for being so rude to them and asked them for forgiveness. They have been kind, my hand is better now and nothing else bad has happened. Instead, they blessed us with another Visual Awakening. This time it was Clarissa. She’s seventeen. Mother says that she is very pretty; especially now that she has her eyes.
People could hear her screaming out in the middle of the market as her eyes grew into her skull. It was an awful sounds. Clarissa isn’t a very strong girl, she’s always asking us boys to help her carry things around the Village for her. I don’t mind helping because she is always so polite. It’s proper to be polite, Father says. If you are polite to people then you will always be welcome wherever you go. More people will want to be your friend and play with you. Clarissa had lots of friends because she was so polite. Some of the older boys didn’t talk to her because she’d never become a woman and that meant that she couldn’t have children and help the community to grow but all of us children liked her. She was fun to talk to and play with. She wouldn’t be able to play anymore though, not with her eyes. Now she would have to work properly in the community and help to keep it strong. I was a little sad that I wouldn’t be able to play with her anymore but I was also excited because it meant that now the whole Village was going to have a feast and one of us were going to be picked to be sacrificed to the Gods. That was always the most exciting part.
I could barely sit still through the feast dressed in my best clothes, careful as I ate so that I didn’t make a mess and embarrass my parents. I ate as fast as I could so that I could move onto the next course and then be ready to go and meet with the Elders. There were speeches and each of us without our eyes went up and presented Clarissa with a flower to symbolise her becoming an adult and she gave us each a kiss on the cheek to wish us well in our lives and to bless us with a speedy awakening. Then the music began and all the adults began to dance like always and all of us without our eyes marched up to the temple to meet with the Elders and let them decide which of us was to present ourselves to the Gods and bless the village and Clarissa with good health until the next of us could see. We stood there silently in rows, waiting for the Elders to come up and see us, quiet and excited, all trying to be on our best behaviour so that we might be picked. I brushed off my shirt in case there were any crumbs a couple of times, trying to be as clean as possible. The God’s couldn’t be headed a dirty sacrifice, that would be seen as rude and insulting to them. I didn’t want to insult the Gods, I wanted to make them happy. We all wanted to make them happy.
The Elders finally arrived after what felt like forever, reminding us all to stand up straight and to smile. I did as I was told and tried my best to look as neat and happy as possible. This could be my chance, after all. My chance to make Mother and Father proud. My chance to make the God’s happy and make everybody in the Village happy too. Slowly we were inspected one by one, the Elders coming forward and checking our bodies over, trying to choose which of us would be the sacrifice tonight. We stood there for a long time as they talked and then left to make a vote and then came back again and talked some more before taking another vote. I was so nervous, waiting for one of them to step forward and tell us who they had chosen that I nearly didn’t hear Elder Dickens when he spoke. I didn’t even realise that he’s said my name until he said it again, reminding me that I was supposed to step forward when they said it and thank them for their choice. I stumbled over my own feet as I did, the buckles loose on my shoes where I hadn’t fastened them correctly and smiled, thanking them politely, thanking them over and over again for their choice, beaming happily as somebody was sent to tell my parents. They were going to be so proud of me, so pleased that I was the one to be picked for the sacrifice. I was a little sad that I wouldn’t be able to see what they looked like ever, but I was going to do something so much greater than that that I didn’t really mind all that much. I was allowing somebody else to keep their gift of sight. That made me feel special, like a hero from one of the books Mother read me at night time. I was just as blessed as Clarissa was now. Maybe even more.
I said goodbye to my parents when they arrived. They seemed a little sad but I reminded them that there was nothing to be sad about and that they weren’t allowed to cry or they would upset the Gods. It was okay, because I knew that one day we would all meet again once they had passed too. I gave them both a kiss goodbye and hugged them tight. I asked mother to tuck my teddy bear in at night and make sure that he was always kept warm because he never spent a whole night under the blankets with me for some reason and I didn’t want him to get sick. I told Father that I would ask the Gods why blueberries tasted the way they did because he had once told me that it was a question only they knew the answer to and that I’d tell him when I saw him next and then I left them, stepping out of the wind and into the small temple, the stone underneath my feet echoing with my steps as I was lead to the cool slab where I would lay and be sacrificed. I was excited to know what a sacrifice was. Father had said that it was like going on a holiday to a new place and that you passed to get there. I wasn’t sure what I was passing through, because I had to lay down to do it, but I was sure that it would be fun. I didn’t need anybody to come in and hold my hand and tell me that it was going to be okay so all the other boys and girls were allowed to leave early. We normally didn’t have to wait outside, it was just Timothy that we had had to wait for.
Lying down, I tried to get comfortable, laying my hands by my side like I was told to, breathing slowly with great big breaths. It was so exciting, knowing that I got to travel some place new. There was a strange sound, like metal being dragged across something, and a few murmurs from the Elders of the Village before I felt somebody move closer, raising something up above me. I realised then just what sacrifice meant. You had to give something up when you sacrificed. They were giving me up. I didn’t want to be given up, I didn’t want to die. That wasn’t what I had thought they meant when they said passing. I thought I would pass through a gate, or be passed along to somebody who would take me someplace new. They weren’t sacrificing anything, they were just going to kill me.
As Elder Dickens drove the blade down deep into my chest, a horrible burning ripped through my head and I was allowed for just a second to open my eyes and see the world for the dark twisted and frightening creature that she was.
And then I passed.
And then I awoke again.
And I was blinded not by darkness, but by light and I met with he who sort to take me to the place after death where I might finally see the truth for what it was, not what others made it to be for me.
