Tuesday, August 08, 2006

Suffer the Children

PART 1

She hadn’t known a moment without worry since the last of the adults had Passed Over. She alone was responsible for two-dozen hungry mouths, there was never enough to go around, and often she went without so the children wouldn’t be hungry. Food was hard to come by in the middle of nowhere, until she got old enough to move the whole clan closer to a big city they would have to make do.

Food was searched for as often and as much as could be dared; always, always with the fear of getting caught nagging at her and disturbing her concentration. Without her all the children would die, and that was unthinkable, she would die before letting the little ones wither away from constant hunger. With as little food as she was able to find there was never enough to fill everyone’s bellies.

She pictured herself, her translucent skin, depthless black eyes and cloud of silver blonde, wavy hair suited the cast of her features. She closed her eyes; they were what ancient Oriental cultures call ‘Dragon’s Eyes’; long, slanting, heavily lashed, and seeming to be half-lidded all the time. . Her eyes were the sort that compels you to lock gazes and listen. Pursing her lush mouth briefly, the lips startlingly red, teetering on the edge of a smile at all times, with a small frown between her eyebrows she checked every youngling tenderly.

All her clothes were carefully chosen to play off the striking colouring she had, black, deep blues and greens, occasionally crisp white or the shade of a blood ruby. She chose styles that were flowing and made of light, soft materials accentuating the ethereal, almost incorporeal quality to her appearance.

A trick of light could have her looking old far beyond her years, as though she had already seen how ugly mankind could be. Her habit of ducking her head when she began to smile loaned her an air of old fashioned shyness. Blessed with a soft, sweet voice, her words fell like flower petals to drift slowly into your consciousness.

Tonight it was bitterly cold, and sleet fell, sharp blades of frozen rain that slapped against her cheeks; standing in the night air, feeling numb and woozy from hunger; she looked up at the sliver of a waning moon, distant and uninterested in her situation. There had to be food out here somewhere, there just had to!!

Knowing that she was far too tired, and battered by the elements, she listened, and searched the darkness with desperate eyes. There! She’d located some food; the children wouldn’t be as hungry tonight. Her search was always brief, and carefully orchestrated to avoid damage to the food. It was not enough, but it was all she could get on her own.

Tonight, however, there were problems actually getting her hands on the food; by the time she had it in her hands she knew she would have to hurry to get it home in time for them to go to bed at a decent hour.

Back home, she patiently fed all the younglings while they cried in hunger and desperation. There was barely a mouthful, maybe two, for her when their hunger was muted. As late as it had grown, there was barely time to settle all the littlest ones to sleep, and send the middle third, before she and the three oldest ones bid sweet dreams to one another.

Disturbing her restless sleep, the voice of hunger resonated through her, straining all joy from her dreams, and leaving bitter whey in her memory. Her own voice was slurred, falling upon deaf walls and soundless bed. Over and over she awakened, then, hissing in frustration, struggle to return to her rest.

Another night, the same as any other, except for expanding their search areas, hoping to have the efforts pay off quickly. By accident, she had discovered the diner, and marked it mentally as a place to get food for the younglings. Tonight, everyone had fed well, and she had even managed to soften the hunger-cries in her bones.

The little ones had drifted off with the rosy cheeks of good sleep, still snuggling with the older children. Everyone felt the glow from a truly good meal there had even been laughter, so rarely heard recently.

All the clan had been able to bed down comfortably and drift into restful, healing sleep. She even noted a soft flush in her cheeks, “Now that is better, we’re supposed to look like this all the time.”

”I’m old enough to help Sister, It will get better then.” The next oldest, a tall, lean boy with wavy masses of nearly black hair, and catlike golden brown eyes, already marked by their struggles.
“Not yet love, you’ve still more to learn. If you don’t learn it, you will never be able to make it in this world.” Her voice was soft, pitched low enough to not disturb the young ones.

“Please, you’re always so tired, and pale. I get afraid that you won’t come back some morning. I need to help.” Already the young man knew how to get his older sister to let him do what he wanted to.

“All right, you can come with me, there are things that you can’t understand until you have seen them firsthand” She sighed, and tossed a smile to him. “You must give me your Blood Oath that you will do exactly what I say, without questions.”

He paused for a long moment, he could hear the hum of the power lines overhead. “I give my Blood Oath, I will do as you say.”

Sister sighed, knowing what a shock her brother was in for. Everything he had gotten drilled into him from the very beginning had best be clearly understood. When they were in the middle of looking for food was not the time for him to become rebellious, or worse, impatient.


{Don't worry my dears, I wrote the whole tale before I posted a word...}

1 Comments:

At 9:28 PM, Blogger Gwen M. Myers said...

Okay dears, I have a little vote for you:
Shiloh had an idea for my title to this tale that is as attractive as mine.

Do you think the title should be:
A "Suffer the Children"
or
B) "Suffer for the Children"?

 

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