The Cabin

The Need To Drown

I was born in the 15th century. I don't remember the date nor what surrounded my birth. All I know is that my parents named me Sisyphus, from the Greek story. I was born a Gypsy. Already from a young age, I learned the hatred and vility of Humankind. My people were prosecuted through and through. All my family learned was how to steal, fight, and run. I had 5 siblings. Three sisters and two brothers. Two of my sisters died at a young age due to the plague. My family was always moving from place to place.

Eventually, my father's fury at the world reached a boiling point. He was an idealistic man, never satisfied with what was, always obsessed with what could. He had called a family meeting one day and had all of us sat down outside, with a fire burning. When all of us sat down, he stood up. He started questioning all of us about what we wanted of life. My mom answered first “Dear, you know what I have always wanted. I want a safe place for my family to live at.” Then my brothers answered “I want to be a great warrior.” Said one. The other said “I want to travel all throughout Europe and see all kinds of animals and lands.” My sister was the last one “Father, I want to be a Gypsy Princess.” I reluctantly answered with “I want to be free.” Father stood there for a second, then said “Those are all great answers. But life has shown us time and time again that people like us don't get to dream. Kings, queen, knights, they all get to shoot for the stars. And all we get is dirt, nothing but dirt. That will change from today onward. We will dream! We will go back to France and we will take back what is ours. My children will be free, they will become a princess, they will be a great warrior, and they will get to go across the land. And your beautiful mother will see you kids prosper.” I was inspired by his speech, and so was my family.

Then my father spoke about a plan. It was a simple plan, but to him, it was everything. He started with “We will go on our carriages to the gates of France. We will not reveal that we are Gypsies. For these people believe we are a curse. We are no curse, I say! We are just people who should be treated as such. Ignorant and hateful they are. They will not be able to tell that we are Gypsies. Then after we go in we will be able to do as we please! Freedom at last, my family.” After this, we rode on our carriages to the nearest gate to France where there were two guards standing. A long line was ahead of us. None but us had a carriage. We stood out like wasps in a bee colony. At least, that's how it would have seemed to the guards. Finally, it was our turn to speak to the guards. Father spoke to them in a respectable tone, and he said “Dear guards, we come from a far away land. We are only looking for sanctuary. Are we allowed entry?” The guards looked at each other and said “Why do you have a carriage?” Father responded with “It is for our belongings, sir” the guards said “We can't let it enter France. You must leave it here.” Father said “We will not leave our belongings and carriage outside. They are precious to us.” The back and forth would continue. In the end, the guards were stubborn in their decision. Although Father hadn't given up, he had started seeing the situation for what it was. To enter France, we would have to physically give up our person's. If we wanted to keep it, we would have to abandon this plan. Father decided the former. Although we went into the carriage and stuffed as much as we would into our clothes. The guards, either oblivious or in an act of kindness, let us in. We had finally done it! We entered France!

It didn't take long for everyone to get accustomed to this. We could finally have what everyone wanted, except for me. Years went on, and everyone seemed happy. This was the opposite of what I wanted. There was only one other person who felt what I felt, my brother. He wanted to travel all across Europe but now stuck in france he wasn't able to do that. My brother didn't want to abandon his family for his dream. So he too slowly got accustomed to things. We had settled in a small village, away from other Gypsies. My mother got a safe place for us all. My sister could live as a Gypsy Princess(delusional as she was). She alone felt that this small village was worthy of a princess. My other brother was able to become a knight. So forth. Yet, for me, no matter how many years went by, I was always hungry. My heart longed for more. I wanted to be the greatest. Throughout the land and sea, I alone would be king. That was it! I would be the one and only Gypsy king.

I went over to my parents' house to have a talk with my father. He was sitting on the kitchen table. I sat in front of him and started the conversation with “Father, I am not satisfied. I do not feel free.” He looked deep into my eyes and asked “Why is that son? We have everything we could ever want.” I got up just as he did that one night where he lit my eyes on fire. “That's the thing, Father. I want more. You said years and years ago that we would storm into France and declare ourselves as Gypsies and that we would be treated as Humans.” His deep look into my eyes turned to disappointment “Son, that was a long time ago. That day, we were told that we could not bring our carriage into this country. I realized that we would truly never be accepted, much less tolerated. What would they have done if they knew we are Gypsies? They would have drowned us to the bottom of a lake.” I walked to his side “Father, I would rather drown than continue living a life of mediocrity. You lit a fire inside me that night. I will not let it be extinguished like I have been trying to all these years.” he looks up to me “Son, do not let lofty dreams burn down everything the family has built. Whatever you are thinking of doing. Don't do it.” I turn to walk out the door “Father I have inherited your fury. Now, the world will learn of it.”

That night, I went to the forest next to the village. I wrote up a Gypsy curse on myself. I grabbed countless leaves and sticks. Put them in a stack on the ground. I said “My people have always been put underground. That will no longer happen. My people will rebel against anything and everyone that shall stand against their freedom. Their spirits and physical bodies will never die. As long as their will doesn't die.” I drew the Gypsy symbol of fire on the ground. I set ablaze the leaves and sticks. White smoke is going into the air. The next thing I did was gather up the townspeople to tell them of my and my family's reality. At first, my family stayed in their houses. They believed I had nothing of importance to say. My speech consisted of “Dear people of Coaraze. For far too long have I endured your oppression. You might not know what oppression I speak of. For this, it is a quiet oppression. You believe only French people and other non “dangerous” people should be let to live. You believe Gypsies are but curses, dangerous, and thieving people. This is nonsense. And I will prove it to you. Me and my family are Gypsies. We lived as Gypsies. My father, however, believed that for us to live long and fair lives, we had to hide that.” Finally, I saw my family in the crowd. Their faces filled with anger and fear. “I will no longer hide who I am. I am a Gypsy. And I am proud of it.” When I finished my speech, I didn't hear any applause from the crowd. It was as silent as a funeral. My father walked up to me and started screaming at me “Is this your grand idea?! To doom us? Why, son? What has happened to you?” He started beating on me. I fought back. Not because I hated the man that was my father, but because I wanted to reject everything he stood for. Days went by after my speech, and not a single soldier came. Eventually, my family left the village. Never to be heard of again.

After 10 days, a small army of knights came to the village. I stayed because I didn't want to run away like a coward. If I were to die, I wanted to die standing, not on my knees. The army had come for me. Being a Gypsy in France meant a death sentence. Of course, I fought against the army for as long as I could. They must have had at least 50 soldiers. I managed to kill at least half of them. The once peaceful village had turned into a bloody battlefield. Eventually, though, my body had given out. But they could not kill me, for my curse was in effect. They tried everything. Cutting my head off didn't work. Hanging me didn't work. And putting me into an iron maiden. Finally, they had given up. The last thing they did was chain me up and throw me into a lake. This didn't kill me, but I could not release myself of the chains. For about ten years, I was underwater. Not a day went by when I lost my will. Every day, I gargled water, feeling it enter my lungs. Many sea creatures tried to bite me. After many years went by, I could not feel my skin. Many mollusks, sea snails, and sea plants grew on me. I witnessed many seasons pass by me. The lake freezing, making my body feel as if it was hell on earth, if hell froze over. Many times, I tried to squeeze my hands through my chains, but failed I did. Day after day, same thing. Nothing changing, my will losing every day. For this was the price of freedom. They didn't want to see me escape from the cages they put on themselves. Neither did they want to get burned by my blaze. I forsaked many people to their deaths. And I Sisyphus would do it a hundred times over. Yet the day came when I lost. It was a day like every other. Feeling the water enter my lungs once more, I fell asleep.