(originally posted on 27 April 2011)
There was one particular piece that I was exceedingly proud of when I started writing for my Creative Writing class in University. For the past months, I've been going through my files and documents (some twice and thrice over) to retrieve those 10 or so A4 pages documenting my so called masterpiece, potential award winning short story. I couldn't find it. By now, I've learnt that the world contrives to always thwart my wants so I take it with a mere 'hmph'
Nonetheless, I found another short story that I don't even remember writing. So here it is, retyped from the hardcopy that I recovered, resisting the itch to rewrite what I wrote. Reproduced as it was created more than six years ago...
Nonetheless, I found another short story that I don't even remember writing. So here it is, retyped from the hardcopy that I recovered, resisting the itch to rewrite what I wrote. Reproduced as it was created more than six years ago...
I am alone. It has been five days since I left the commune where I was born, grew up and became an adult - the only place I had ever known. I never wanted to enter this strange realm. In fact, no one ever wants to leave the commune. But as each of us achieve maturity, one by one, we are forced to walk the only pathway that leads away from the commune. The Unknown, it is called. No one ever comes back.
Once, when I was still an adolescent, I dared to question time-old tradition. Why do we have to observe this rite at all? Why couldn't we all just stay in the commune and live happily ever after? Some were terrified when I raised these questions. Some were even angry.
"Don't you know that terrible things will happen when we stop sending a sacrifice out to the Unknown?" the angry ones hissed at me.
"But how do you know that? We have never tried not sending a sacrifice before," I persisted. I was at that age when I believed everything had an explanation.
"Legend says that a sacrifice must be sent into the Unknown every 28 days," one of the meeker ones quickly explained, eager for me to cease voicing my questions and doubts "If we fail to do so, our commune will be destroyed. Life as we know it will come to an end."
"But eventually there will be none of us left!" I stubbornly continued, hoping I could instill some sense into them. But dwellers of our commune are faithful to tradition, even if it means sacrificing their own lives.
So here I am. Not voluntarily, of course. On the day I achieved maturity, I was forced to walk the pathway by those whom I had known all my life, friends who, in just one fleeting moment, became enemies.
One part of the legend that I do believe is that one will inevitable die in the Unknown. But the legend does not say by what means one will meet death, except that blood would flow. Rumours say that horrible creatures will suddenly appear and feast on you. But I believe that my cause of death would be from lack of contact with another. Growing up in a commune, I have never experienced this feeling before. Now it has hit me profoundly. I was desperately lonely. Despite the cruel treaatment I had received from my friends, I find myself missing them something fierce.
When the first signs of maturity began to show on me, everyone knew that my days were numbered. It was then that my best friend gave me a sliver of hope.
"I have heard that one can be saved in the Unknown. One can even escalate into a sort of higher being and live a very long life," she said. She seemed hesitant to continue.
"How?" I gently prompted her.
"They must find you," she whispered.
"They must find me? My dearest friend, I love you very much, but sometimes you just don't make any sense." I was teasing her in an attempt to conceal my true feelings, which was anxiety and fear.
"I'm serious! I cannot know for sure whether this is true, but at least it gives me hope that I might see you again. You must heed my words perchance that it is true!" she pleaded, on the verge of tears.
"Very well," I said soothingly "But who are they?"
"I do not know," she replied helplessly "But whoever they are, please try to find them instead of just waiting for them to find you. Or else it might be too late!"
But after five days, I still had not met any living creature. They chance of they finding me seemed very bleak, much less I finding them. Ironically, I was pondering over this when I sensed movement down the path. I could not see what it was, but it was moving fast.
This is it.
(to be continued....)
Once, when I was still an adolescent, I dared to question time-old tradition. Why do we have to observe this rite at all? Why couldn't we all just stay in the commune and live happily ever after? Some were terrified when I raised these questions. Some were even angry.
"Don't you know that terrible things will happen when we stop sending a sacrifice out to the Unknown?" the angry ones hissed at me.
"But how do you know that? We have never tried not sending a sacrifice before," I persisted. I was at that age when I believed everything had an explanation.
"Legend says that a sacrifice must be sent into the Unknown every 28 days," one of the meeker ones quickly explained, eager for me to cease voicing my questions and doubts "If we fail to do so, our commune will be destroyed. Life as we know it will come to an end."
"But eventually there will be none of us left!" I stubbornly continued, hoping I could instill some sense into them. But dwellers of our commune are faithful to tradition, even if it means sacrificing their own lives.
So here I am. Not voluntarily, of course. On the day I achieved maturity, I was forced to walk the pathway by those whom I had known all my life, friends who, in just one fleeting moment, became enemies.
One part of the legend that I do believe is that one will inevitable die in the Unknown. But the legend does not say by what means one will meet death, except that blood would flow. Rumours say that horrible creatures will suddenly appear and feast on you. But I believe that my cause of death would be from lack of contact with another. Growing up in a commune, I have never experienced this feeling before. Now it has hit me profoundly. I was desperately lonely. Despite the cruel treaatment I had received from my friends, I find myself missing them something fierce.
When the first signs of maturity began to show on me, everyone knew that my days were numbered. It was then that my best friend gave me a sliver of hope.
"I have heard that one can be saved in the Unknown. One can even escalate into a sort of higher being and live a very long life," she said. She seemed hesitant to continue.
"How?" I gently prompted her.
"They must find you," she whispered.
"They must find me? My dearest friend, I love you very much, but sometimes you just don't make any sense." I was teasing her in an attempt to conceal my true feelings, which was anxiety and fear.
"I'm serious! I cannot know for sure whether this is true, but at least it gives me hope that I might see you again. You must heed my words perchance that it is true!" she pleaded, on the verge of tears.
"Very well," I said soothingly "But who are they?"
"I do not know," she replied helplessly "But whoever they are, please try to find them instead of just waiting for them to find you. Or else it might be too late!"
But after five days, I still had not met any living creature. They chance of they finding me seemed very bleak, much less I finding them. Ironically, I was pondering over this when I sensed movement down the path. I could not see what it was, but it was moving fast.
This is it.
(to be continued....)
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