She was trapped by encircling arms, vines, and torchlight.
The crowds of her neighbors were utterly silent. Miko's slow drumbeat in the back of the mob gave slow, steady rhythm to the proceedings. Old Stregh in front of her took wizened hands and rubbed paint on the girl's lithe limbs. The ceremonial red paint dripped from her fingertips and spattered on the ground. Then Stregh covered her breasts with blue, and her face with orange. Eventually, the girl looked like a feather. Stregh paused and looked the girl directly in her eyes. The old woman and the young girl connected, as humans, for the last time. Stregh's face drained of all emotion, and she threw her hand in the air. Miko's drumbeat stilled, and all of the girl's neighbors slowly stomped as one, continuing the beat in Miko's absence.
The girl glanced around. No one met her eyes. No one even looked at her. She was no longer human. She was transcendent, different, separate. It was lonely.
The crowd moved forward to the edge of the schism in the rock. Three lonely birds took off and flew overhead, circling slowly. The girl took a step forward.
She was trapped by duty, fraternity, and love.
The mob fell utterly silent. The only sounds were the whistle of the wind and the distant breaking call of seabirds. She took a deep breath, and afraid to look back, pause, or think, she tossed herself off the edge. The villagers as one called the name of the mountain god and threw their hands in the air. She had seen the whole ceremony seventeen times before. Her father would go back to their home and put red paint on their doorway to represent that their house had been honored in the ceremony. Her brother would go fishing the next day to provide for the village. Her lover Thon would soon go before the old men to prove his worth and become a man. And she wouldn't get to see any of it. She was honored.
As she fell, she thought of her village, and her island, and of her mountain god, and by the time she hit the bottom, she was no longer trapped.
She had been given the power of choice, and she chose her destiny. It is not so strange that she should consider herself free.
Wow. Longish.
ReplyDeleteGood for you!
Surprisingly compassionate.
Good for you.
I'm just angry that only DUDES are allowed to die for queen and country and women die for their children or mothers or what have you.
ReplyDeleteI just hope I did women justice.
Well, only dudes WERE allowed to die for queen and country or whatnot. Times are changing. People are now free to die for just about anything they want.
ReplyDeleteNothing this short does women (or men) justice, but thanks for trying. It was pretty.
Woah. (You have been writing long things lately.) Destiny--you bring out an interesting concept . . . I need to let this sit a bit before I can really elaborate. (I like tribal stuff like this.)
ReplyDelete(Also, I am quite happy not to die for queen or country.) (But I'm glad that others are.)
Yeah, long things.
ReplyDeleteAnd I think that just because women weren't allowed to didn't slow them down worth jack diddly squat. Remember that one lady who put a stake through a guy's eye? Bible reference ftw.
:-)
ReplyDeleteI was waiting for something like that . . .
Sad in a heroic kind of way. I like women who choose their own destiny.
ReplyDelete