Hello all, I was playing around with some old storries, I have a huge drawer full of them, this branches out from an earlier version, it may be a little dull as it is just the beginning. Thanks for reading, any comments are appreciated.
Dripping softly onto the bank, rain falls from the heavens, my dry cracked lips part as moisture seeps in. Lightning illuminates the black dying world. It wasn’t always like this; we weren’t always lying, dying in the sand. Another flash shows my honor. Every inch of my skin covered with tattoos. It took years to become like this, I still remember the beginning, the very beginning.
*****
Storm, lightning, thunder, sky,
Living, dying, breathing, desire,
Green, Earth, Mother Nature,
Silence, animal, pity, fur.
The beat of the drum was addicting, a large fire lit in the middle of the camp ground blossomed, my friends and family danced around it, bells attached to their thin wrists, thin ankles, they all chanted, they were all one with one another.
Martha was beside me; using a sharp bone and some dye from those berries she slowly cut my skin, as easily as butter. The atmosphere was hazy, the pounding of the drum, the stomping of feet and the ringing of bells all contributing to my loss of vision.
How then, did I see, how then did I know what was happening? I used my third eye, when we became exiles we quickly learnt all things ancient, all things forgotten, we were the superior beings, yet they were still trying kill us all, wipe us out.
Long faces, long hair, we all had bronze skin and white hair, our eyes all reflections of our soul, of our personality, like it was always supposed to be.
I could feel fresh blood flowing down my arm, blood, water, the rancid smell soon filled my nostrils, it was unlike me to be concerned over little things, but although I did not know it, it was the last time I saw Martha, I saw my family, I would be on my own for months, years after that night.
Hearing the bells slow and the chanting drizzle to a stop, Martha let go of my forearm, letting it drop, I was unprepared. All of a sudden war cries were heard. The fire was put out, all warmth in the world had vanished. We knew we would not survive this.
“Storm, lightning, thunder, sky,
Living, dying, breathing, desire,
Green, Earth, Mother Nature,
Silence, animal, pity, fur.”
Slowly the chanting resumed, quietly, everyone was laying on the ground, head down so the sound was muffled by the soft grainy ground. Thinking back on it I don’t know how they kept chanting, the sand must have irritated their face and gotten into all the little nocks and crannies.
Bangs could then be heard, big bright flashes, mechanical movements, they had found us. We were sent away from the world, the material world for we still believed in some simple things, some simple laws and one religion.
They had not wanted our love of nature to get in the way of development, artificial life was just around the corner, cancer had long been cured as well as old age. We didn’t want that, I want it now, eternal life would have served us well, we should have waited before we set out.
We wanted to grow old, it didn’t make sense, it doesn’t make sense to live forever when the populations were only increasing. They knew that. Soon after we left they began killing the poor. We would have been killed.
The forest is where we fled, what was left of the forest anyway. We met with some ancient figures of history, we saw the Amazon Women with our very eyes, though young I was I still remember them, strong able women.
They taught us how to hunt, how to cook and how to care for one another; they invented the tattoos that are now the very sign of our existence. Whenever one does something extraordinary, or beyond what was imagined as their capability, they were awarded with one, sure if was painful, but numb from exile it helped sooth painful thoughts.
Lying there we were helpless, no weapon in sight, we had decided on peace.
“I swear I heard their drums!” Angry voices hissed, twigs broke under their weight, humans in full Robot gear. Some decided, not long after we had left, that the only way they were safe was in huge metal machines, they had mined the metal from some lonely distant planet.
They looked around, killed everyone at the campsite but Martha and I, Martha wandered off to tell the rest of the tribe, she was dazed, days later on my travels I found her, not a breath left, I sent her down the river that was how she would have wanted it.
When Martha was wandering around trying to find home I went up, up the hills, looking for a sign, something to tell me what to do. I found just that. As if in a legend I found a rock, a huge rock with a large shining sword.
I did not know it was a sword at the time but was determined that pulling it out would show me the end of my troubles. Oh how very wrong I was, it just showed me the beginning of them.
*****
That is the start of my story, I have not long left if no one finds me, my breath is shallow, I cannot run any longer. I have defeated what evil there is, there is nothing left to hope for, the war is over but why do I feel so lost?
