She sighed as she bent down, slowly dragging her fingers
through the sand, thoughts moving sluggishly - aftereffects of the drugs - she
assumed. Standing slowly, she released the sand that had accumulated in her
fingers, watching it drift slowly away in the slight breeze. Stretching out her
sore muscles she looked upward at the omnipresent sun, moving slowly toward the
horizon. Sighing again, she moved forward, hitching her backpack higher on her
shoulders. All she could remember, was a woman bending over her, dim lighting
in the background, and some muffled voices. Hazy as it was, she remembered one
thing clearly: the words arise my
daughter, and, for the first time in your life, truly live.
Moving
slowly over a sand dune, she gazed at what could very possibly be a town. Adobe
houses little round roofs arching slightly above the wall that surrounded the
city proper. Too tired to think more, she moved towards the gate, probably 200
yards away. Upon entering, she noticed a couple very odd things about the city
itself. First, there was hardly anybody there, for a city it’s size. There were
a few people moving about furtively, but not that many. Second, there was a
large castle in the distance, a stark difference from the clay huts that
surrounded it, and made up the rest of the city.
Forgetting
that temporarily, she noticed what looked to be a well up ahead, and with it,
her parched throat started nagging at her. Moving forward, she noticed a figure
leaning against the supports that held the roof over the well, figuring he may
be in charge of the water, she motioned towards the well, and sent him a
questioning look, to indicate that she would like some. Looking up at her, he
stayed silent for a second. Cocked his head to the side for a little, and then
spoke.
Be gone, foreigner. Little rabbits do not
belong here. Dipping his fingers into a small puddle on the well ledge, he
lazily flicked a few drops onto her face. Flinching instinctively, she thought
about what to do. What could he do, she wondered, if I just got myself some
water? Pondering this for a second more, she moved towards the well
apprehensively at first, then with more confidence. Abruptly, she ran into the
man’s arm, which had been outstretched to block her path, but he himself had
not moved. Meeting her eyes, he locked her gaze for a while, while she looked
back at him, defying him to continue stopping her.
Briefly,
a smile flickered at the corner of his lips, and then was gone. Nodding
slightly, he dropped his arm, and proceeded to watch in silence as she cranked
the bucket up to the top, full of pristine water. She pulled out a water bottle
and filled it up, put it in the backpack, then filled up a second one. Letting
the bucket drop back into the well, she looked up noticing that the man was
still there. He didn’t look at her again, didn’t even acknowledge her presence.
Just stood there, impassive, looking straight ahead. Looking up, she saw a
place that looked vaguely like a hostel, and slowly started making her way
there.
That
night she dreamed. She dreamed a very familiar dream, a woman was leaning over
her, whispering in her ear. All the shaped were fuzzy and dull, as if she were
drugged. The woman whispered those same words into her ear: Arise my daughter, and for the first time in
your life, truly live. The woman pressed her hand, cool to the touch, to
her forehead, and everything went dark.
She had very little recollection
of her childhood, some fuzzy images involving a happy family, a little girl running
around screaming because of cold water coming from a sprinkler, a birthday
cake, a Christmas tree, an argument, rain, a storm, gunfire, and then a sense
of hopelessness that overrode all else. Sitting up on the mat she was using for
a sleeping pad, she reached under the scarf she was using as a dust mask, and
rubbed the thick scar that stretched around the front half of her neck.
Thinking about those things had made it itch. She was sure where it had come
from, but she also wasn’t sure she wanted to know. Her gut feeling was to leave
it well enough alone, and she always trusted her gut.
This is a short story I wrote for one of my classes, but it's too long for one post. I'll post the others soon. :)
Almost obsessive
