*bring* *brrring* *brri- click*
"Today is the day." I dreadfully thought to myself as I hit the alarm clock for it to shut up. Its the day of the age-old tradition that takes place in this village. Every year we have to watch as another innocent person is stoned to death. I think its horrific but my husband is on the side of the village. He loves it.
"Mi Vida, how could you not be excited? Today is one of thee most important days for our village!" My husband, Micheal, shouted almost too excitingly from the other corner of the room. I put on a fake smile and replied "Well I guess it is nice to see everyone in town getting together- and to see all of my lovely students!" My husband looked and me and even with my fake smile and cheery sounding voice knew something was a little off. "Is something wrong?" He said as he looked up and I could see the stern look he was giving me as he looked in the vanity. I shook my head no and hesitantly he continued to get ready.
Although a lot has changed in this village such as women having rights, homes getting better, newer better technology, better healthcare, etc. And still with all these advancements one thing always stayed the same the lottery.
From the chipped and faded paint on the black box to the terrible stoning. Everything is the exact same except Mr. Summers has a few gray hairs and is much older. I still remember the first time I went- I was with my mother. My father had passed a few months before I was born. My mother was one of the people who loved the stoning and would always be telling me how great and important it was for the village. "Oh you'll love it Maria! It's been in this village for many years! No one really knows why it was first started but many of us believe it brings good luck to our crops." I could still hear her voice telling me this in the kitchen just moments before we left to see this "glorious" event. And maybe I too would have been like everyone else in this village if it wasn't the last time I saw my mother, well last time I would see her alive at least. I can still sometimes see her lifeless body all bruised when I close my eyes.
"Mi Vida?" Michael called out, "were ready." I took a deep breath and sighed because this year we were bringing our daughters, Rosalina and Isabella.
Me and Michael were only able to have two kids. Rosalina who is 10 and Isabella who is only 5. I love them both so much and both are very beautiful and well behaved. "They're too innocent and pure for this world." I would tell my friends and family and we would all laugh together. Rosalina has beautiful strawberry-blonde hair and brown eyes just like her father, she was a spitting image of him actually. And my little Izzy- she looked almost like me with her gorgeous brown hair. What set us apart was her big, bright blue eyes. Which was strange because me and my husband both have brown eyes. I guess we both carried the gene or maybe it was just a weird mutation but either way I found her eyes to be beautiful.
I protested with Michael and practically begged him to let me take them to my aunt's house again. She lives outside of the village and normally he sighs and just agrees to not argue but this year he insisted that we had to bring them and let them experience the village's tradition and promised me nothing would happen to them and they would get closer to the kids in the village. "Just relax Maria, most likely they're not even gonna get the prize paper. Let them have fun." But how could I relax? So many bad thoughts running through my head but I try to just shake my head clear of them like a drawing on an etch a sketch. I smooth out my dress and comb out my long brown hair then I look in the mirror one last time before stepping into the living room where I see Michael and the kids are all ready.
Isabella looks up at me with her beaming eyes, "you look really pretty today mommy!" I smiled and for a second I thought today might not go as bad as I thought it would. "You look gorgeous as always, Mi Vida" Michael said as he grabbed my hand to kiss it. "maybe Chivalry isn't dead." I laughed to myself and before leaving I looked in the mirror one last time and saw my mother. I looked almost exactly like her I know because every time I see my aunt she is always reminding me and showing me pictures of when she was my age. I would always dismiss the comments and say I could never be as pretty. She was the most prettiest and most kindest women in the village. She was always helping our neighbors and the kids in the village as she was also a teacher and just loved kids and I had to watch as her neighbors played her back in the kindest way, stoning her to death. I never told my husband the real way she died and I don't think I ever will as the image makes me want to vomit.
