ATHARI

The Golden Ball 1

1

              The sun was shining like a golden ball, and the golden breeze gently patted my hair. I looked at the sun—it was so beautiful that for a second, my eyes blurred. I couldn't look directly at it. My whole life, I've been curious about the sun—what it's made of, what it looks like. Now, I can only see its brightness, like a powerful light bulb. Its power is overwhelming; unlike the moon, I can't see its shape or light. It's strange. I think it's much stronger than the moon. I can see the moon and stars, but not the sun.

I noticed the kites soaring in the wind, butterflies fluttering around the green grass. Grace took my hand, lifting me to play with her. We ran across the soft grass, laughing together. I could feel the softness beneath my feet. We laughed and held hands tightly as we ran faster. I saw other kids playing—boys with balls, some on bicycles. Everyone seemed so happy.

We ran toward the edge of the hill, where the wind mingled with the water below. There was a vast sea at the bottom of the hill. Every day, the sun hides beneath the sea. Grace told me that it's his home—the sun goes there after his day's work. I've wondered many times what the sun is doing up there. Grace once told me a story about the sun and moon being brothers. God created them at the same time; they were twins, which is why they look alike. But the sun is full of anger, and that's why he's golden, while the moon is calm and gentle.

One day, when God fell ill, he asked both the sun and the moon to take over his duties. The sun, being strong and powerful, controlled the skies during the day. But he was too harsh, causing deserts and scorching the land. Meanwhile, the moon, feeling jealous, took control at night, freezing everything in his path. They competed against each other, and when God returned, he saw the destruction. Angered, he punished them both. Now, the sun rules the day and the moon rules the night. Sometimes, they meet God, and that's when we experience an eclipse.

We reached the hill's edge, and the view was breathtaking—the sea and the breeze were perfect. We stood there, holding hands, gazing at the beauty of the sea. Suddenly, the breeze became hotter. I looked up at the sun—it seemed to be coming down, its colour changing. The waves became bigger. Grace and I exchanged frightened looks as she started to cry. The wind grew stronger, and the once lush grass began to split apart.

I looked at the children—they were all running and crying. Birds and animals fled in panic. The wind roared behind us, and Grace slipped from the hilltop. I jumped after her, grabbing her just in time. I lay down on the hill, feeling the ground beneath me shake and vibrate. I had no idea what was happening. In just a second, everything had changed.

The wind from behind us was ferocious. I was barely holding on to the ground with one hand while holding Grace with the other. My small hands hurt. I had no strength left. I closed my eyes and cried out her name, "Grace... Grace..." She was still crying, and I had no idea what to do. My hands ached as I tried to pull her up, but I couldn't.

Suddenly, a strong gust of wind hit from behind, forcing me to grip the ground even harder. Then, in a moment, my hand felt lighter. Confused, I reached for Grace—but she was gone. I looked toward the sea, and she wasn't there. The sea had swallowed her. I screamed her name, "Grace! Grace!" but she didn't answer.

Exhausted, I realized the hill was starting to split apart. The ground beneath me began crumbling, slowly dragging me toward the sea. I couldn't move. My eyes filled with dirt, and I screamed again. Then, I fell into the sea. The salty water filled my mouth, muting my voice, blurring my vision.

Suddenly, someone was calling my name.

"Athari... Athari..."

I opened my eyes.