Given the choice between life and death. Would you conform to those beliefs that had killed your mother or would you allow them to be your judge, jury and executioner?1
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I had no knowledge of what my mother had done to bring them upon us the night before, the shadow of their torches had flickered on the inside of the house and their angry yells and her screams had echoed in the walls. Crouched in a corner I had been waiting for the sounds to die, and my mother's form to come to me, and comfort my frightened soul. But she had not come back, instead they had entered and burned, stole, broke and finally killed.3
The blood had flowed off my mother’s body that morning; it had trickled quickly out of her black and blue lips, her arms, her eyes, and her heart. Now I sat awaiting my trial. I had watched as the red had slowly moved down the cold, still statue, slowly moving across the bent head traveling like a reaching hand, up to the soaring ceiling, down along the deepened isle, and reaching along the stoned walls. 4
The colored windows of this stone prison were to try and make it feel inviting. That hand did not invite me into the beliefs of those who worshiped here; it scared me away. It grabbed the neck of that bright, omniscient sun and squeezed the life out of it till it disappeared beyond the tall eyes of the building. 5
Yet it was not a defeat of the light, for that ghost of the sun lifted itself out of the dark sky invited by an audience of heavenly, twinkling lights. It was laughing at the hand that now could not move in the dark. The hand was scared of that pale light that reached through the windows. 6
Now only shadows were seen in the dreary stoned palace of worship. Light only made more darkness at this time of day. I watched as the shadows moved along the isles as twisting snakes, though they were not as evil as that hand they held the same life in their jaws, the life of light. 7
The sound of metal on wood makes an eerie sound; it heightened the state of the snakes allowing them to reach their destination. Now there were more sounds, murmurs that gave the snakes more life, more feelings and more carelessness. They moved erratically around the ceiling and floor. 8
Quiet stone footsteps sounded along the isle; the leader of the snakes. At first it was large hiding its snakes behind its back, but now, as it seems to move away towards the statue, the snakes appear again even more active then before. Louder and more energized, it was time to meet them face-to-face. 9
Cold creeping hands, long drawn fingers of an old, withered reader of that most holy book. It was his duty to hold me up to the snakes and present my case to them. As he spoke the snakes seemed to stop moving, get quiet, and pause. 10
“Have you made your choice my daughter?”11
Why of all people would he use these words? I would never call him father. 12
“I have.” Simple the snakes would disapprove. 13
“What will it be?”14
Death or life…what do you think snake charmer?15
“I will never worship in this monster dwelling.”16
“You have given me no choice.”17
No, it was me who hadn’t any choice, charmer. I who saw my mother killed and it was I who saw you standing there as your snakes attacked and killed without mercy. Do you really think I had any choice when your snakes came to get me? I was afraid of what they would do, of what they would touch, of what they would take. 18
“Get up.” Stiff, as I had been sitting all day, it took time to get up after the poison the snakes had placed in me. I still felt it inside me, filling my blood with the fire of the worshiped; I was in terrible pain. 19
So I followed that snake charmer to the snake pen. They wavered and danced, hissed and whispered. Deafened by their silence it was too clear that I had never had a choice from the beginning. He told them excuses; he was lying to them, telling them of my unholy worship of that ghost that so dominated the sky at dark. He said it was I who had done those unholy things that the red reaching hand had so disliked, I who had allowed that ghost to rise in the sky and laugh at the hand.20
Disapproval was an understatement of the emotions of the snakes, hard to tell for I was covered in that red hand. It heated my feet, lashed along my legs, pulled under my skin, and deepened my already bruised hips. 21
I did not feel a thing, for I waited and watched. That ghost moved slowly to the awe of those snakes. It moved above me and reached down its pale, long claw and lifted me up to bring me to the dawn of night. 22
Author notes
I hate to have to explain the story to readers because its like telling the answer to a joke before anyone has guessed it. Here goes: A Mother and her daughter were living on the outskirts of a village because the Mother was accused of not accepting the religion of the village. A sickness had gone through and killed many young children but had left the Mother and Child free of disease. The villagers who had survived fueled by fear and hatred of the unknown had gone to the house of the mother and daughter. The men had burnt down the house raped both the mother and daughter and then killed the mother. The villagers however had allowed the daughter to choose her fate, that called it her trial because she was to determine if she was going to live or die. That is where the story begins. I didn't think a background was needed in the story for it was suppose to be the immediate thoughts before the daughters execution. However if one provides some encouragment I could think of expanding on the story.
What did you think? Please comment!
Comments
1 - 14 of 14
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I took it as being an allegory against intolerant religion, much like I might write. I liked the way that the narrator stood her groiund and did not give in to the intolerance aginst a lot of pressure. i can just see the man towering over her. so this has a lot of promise and some good ideas.
Edited on May 10, 3:13 p.m. because 'sp.'. -
This was so amazing! You have the knack of story writing. Yes you tenses were off, but that's nothing that could be fixed. I look forward to reading more of your stories. In fact i'm off now to read more!
Hugs,
Willow -
wow, this is amazing. i really love this-so descriptive and your metaphors with the snakes and such-brilliant. agian, i loved this, truely amazing. God bless,
~kristi -
wow...great write
wow....really great story...i love it....its very good.....i did not think i woudl like it ....but then i got sucked in......really great story.....i hope you write mroe stories.....great write....keep it up...heather -
Absolutly amazing/incredible. I have no words but those..well done, well done.
Sinceritamente,
Venomous Scorpio
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i loved the way you described the mothers death without specific details, the horror of what was done, you conveyed with a couple of sentences. also, i got the snake thing, the way crowds seem to hiss when they are in a furor, the dancing of the fire upon the wall does indeed look like snakes being charmed...
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i like this a lot, some great imagery in this i enjoyed reading it from thr=e start to the end i hope you have another like this well done and keep up the good work
steve -
Dawnknight~
Hey! I don't really know what to write right here but this was good... I didn't quite get it... at the beginning did they kill their mother or soemthing... I am stupid I know but I didn't understand.
~!~Manda~!~ -
This has some wonderful imagry, really, but it throws you into the middle a little too quickly... you never know who or what the characters are, it leaves you a bit detached. Also, the spelling and grammar need to be checked, both had several errors, and your tense switched randomly from past to present in a single sentence. Aside from the basic mechanics though... this feels to me like the begining of something, someone's dark dream or that opens a tale. Perhaps a continuation is in order? Or perhaps just a few more stories about other peoples last moments in life, to accompany this piece's theme?
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Yes, I agree, great peice, great writing and style, but I can't say I totally understand it. But, once again, I am very stupid. I think it's a good thing that you pointed out that there is no intended discrimination to any religion. Great write.
-Jake -
Very very good story. I don;t think I quite understand it completely, but I'm stupid, so it would not surprise me at all. I agree about what you said in you author comments, about how horrible it would be if the was no tolerence, which is why I'm opposed to having laws saying women can't get abortions. Any way, very good story. The best I've read up here. Keep it up. You get Clappy hands! Yay for Clappy hands! ~Angie~
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Very well written. I love stories where people take a stand, even if it means their end. Tragic, but beautiful. You are very talented, keep up the great work!
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hi dawn
a few typos here and there, unless it is US (as opposed to UK spelling)
flickered and trickled and travelling for instance.
great write though. enjoyed it
thanks for sharing it
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wow, this is simply amazing, i loved the word choice and the decription. it was beautiful, and though i did not fully understand this to the point i think you wanted people to understand it--i still saw that it was wonderful. great write.
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