1758, a British crew consisting of sailors, physicists, philosophers, and their families sailed across the ocean. An opportunity arose as the seven years' war occupied the minds of the administrations in North America. Studies held for years under the British government sought the land of the free while they were still held by the bonds of thirteen colonies of British America.
September the thirteenth, 1758, a young woman with eyes like silver made her first steps on the empty land that now occupies Black Barrow. Joan Ward stood hand in hand with her son and smiled upon its rawness. The land was detached from the rest of the evolving world, untouched.
"Let us begin." Her brother announced. His eyes like dusty gold, glinting as he returned a smile towards his sister.
"Let us begin." Joan's husband agreed, holding the plans of Britain's new town and everlasting immortality.
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September the twenty forth, 1758, construction on the temporary housing is completed. Cabins made of oak and a mass hall had been established. The first school substitute still under construction.
The day was young. The suns light hovering above the shoulders of Joan's brother and husband as they privately discussed.
"I was right." Joan's brother laughed. "Today is tomorrow, tomorrow is yesterday."
"This will not last Joan. The long we are here, the more it rejects us." Her husband said. "Over time this place will disappear completely unless we find a way to conserve the year."
"You are a physicist Mr. Ward, that is why your men are here." Johen told him.
"There is no feasible solution," Mr. Ward argued, "not even a theoretical one."
"Do not raise your voice here...."
"Johen, Peter, there's something wrong with the children." Joan interrupted.
"What happed?" Her husband asked. She ushered them towards the hall.
Two young girls and Joan's son sat motionless together staring up to the sky.
"They will not move." Joan told them. The children's mothers sat by the three trembling. Johen and Peter crouched to investigate the scene. The children's eyes were wide, their pupils now making up the majority of space left for their irises. Peter shook his boy in denial, begging him to wake.
"Stop Peter, look at his nose." Johen pointed. Blue spilled onto his son's lip.
"They are still breathing," Joan said, "They are just not conscious."
"What are we to do?" Peter asked. Johen's head churned. He sought to find a solution to save his nephew, but maybe the solution was not obvious to him. He looked back at the seven children still playing. They followed each other exactly, one after the other communicating through their actions. Johen looked back at his nephew, wiping the child's nose with his thumb. He smelled the substance, then put it to his tongue.
"Blood." Johen said. He moved the young girl and sat in her place.
"Johen what are you doing?" Joan asked, but her brother just stared up at the sky. He lifted his hand to shade his eyes from the sun and looked up just as the children did.
"My son is paralyzed Johen and all you do is sit?!" Peter yelled hitting Johen's hand into his face.
"Peter!" Joan yelled.
"Our son is paralyzed Joan, what are we to do about it!" Peter yelled. Johen's thumb, partially covered with the blue blood of the child, had jabbed his right eye. Johen blinked hard towards the sky trying to regain his vision. That's when he saw the answer.
If he closed his left eye, he could see the thin, transparent green dome's glow surrounding the land. Johen Bentham smiled that day. A theory he had found, and he knew its costs.
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November the thirtieth, 1758.
"You made the right choice Joan." Johen told his sister.
"I know." She said holding the gun to Peters' head. He trembled under the brown sack; his muscles flexed, flinching uncontrollably. Unlike the others, Peter Ward did not forget. He was aware without the influence and that could jeopardize their whole operation. "I'm sorry." Joan muttered.
"It's okay." Peter replied, his breath heavy from under the sack. "I forgi...." His body fell forward onto the dirt. The children came outside, four dozen curious heads investigating the origin of the sound that woke them.
"Back to you cabins!" Johen ordered and hundreds of tiny feet hurried back to the beds. "They will only keep the barrier stable for a year and a half." He was tired, the bloods effects wearing off each second they stood there in the dark.
"We could recruit." Joan suggested. There was no turning back now. They had already taken so many undeveloped minds. The radiation inside the barrier was soon to affect the children anyway. They no longer existed outside the hole in time. The sailors were now under the influence of the blood, addicted just like Joan and Johen. And Joan's husband, the only adult left who known of this place's existence, was now with God. Turning back meant Joan lost her son for nothing.
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The process went on for years. While whispers raised to surface about a revolution, children were taken. They were separated from the worldliness of the outside world, distracted by natural light, and protected from the corruption of the adult mind all at the expense of each child's mental stability at the expense of their lives.
1795 Johen had awoke from a dream as day dawned. He woke his sister and they discussed in whispers.
"If they reach the full usage and are still awake, they will not last long Johen, calm yourself brother." Joan said.
"No, we need to prepare. One day we will be tested, in the end the child is to succeed. We must be smarter than that of a child Joan. Underestimating the likely hood of a vision under blood influence is not wise."
"It is a child Johen...."
"No. We need to prepare." He dismissed.
"This is decades away brother."
"Then we should be decades away." He told her.
The next day, he had gone. Joan was left to continue operating.
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January 1834, American men found the empty land and declared it home.
Black Barrow.
The barrier in this segment in time was long faded. Too weak affect anyone or regain strength from who would settle in their new home. Joan waited patiently for the town that would coexist in a different time to the camp. Creating a place of settlement here made Joan's operations easier.
She spent her year drawing maps for all the new doors that led to the outside world. Her thoughts driven by the blood, she discovered ways beyond town.
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1844, Joan Bentham left Black Barrow and allegedly died.
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1920, Joan Ward moved into Black Barrow.
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The Moments I Recall
Teen FictionHe looks out beyond the edge and I can't seem to pull my eyes away from him. He smiles and speaks, but I can't hear anything he says. Even so, the buzzing seems to grow quieter and quieter till it's just silence all around myself and him. I watch hi...
