When She Met the Sea

The letter came at high noon. It sat on the doorstep of our decrepit house, the official seal of our town elders upon the front. Drops of sea salt had collected on its front from the roaring waves below the cliff where our house so carefully perched. In laced lettering, it addresses itself to me, the grass widow of the town and guardian of three. All around the town, sighs of relief we're uttered. They had been spared. In our house, however, our fate had been sealed.
The dark omen is placed on the rotting wood counter. the content begging to be read. I stared at it, wishing I could banish it from sight. I hear the scuffle of feet and see my children. They cower away from me and the evil letter. The twins cling to their older sister in fear. She places her arms around them. She seems brave amongst her quivering sib. Her wide eyes meet mine, and I find the courage to face the letter on the table.
I pop the seal on the letter and a chill flows through the air. I pull out the slip of paper. The elders are efficient. They do not need to waste frivolous words. They only need to write one word. One name. In fancy lettering, I read the name. Her name. My darling girl.
I turn and stare at the face I will likely never see again. She lets go of her siblings and stands in front of me.
"Have I been chosen to leave mother?" she inquires.
I nod and it suddenly becomes all too real. The world is both slowing down and traveling at alarming rates. The floor moves out from under me. My daughter runs to me as I collapse on the floor. I pull her into my arms and run my hands through her hair.
My child.
My child.
My child.
I've seen the mothers before me. The women who collapse on the beach and weep in front of the whole town. In front of the children, they still have. I never truly grasped the helplessness that brings a mother to cry into her child's shoulder, but now I sob with my daughter in my arms.
She holds my face in her tiny hands. She is not crying. Her hands shake but her eyes are clear and her face is set. She has her father's strength without his anger. I sniffle and cradle her head in her hand. I find myself repeating what I thought the day she was born. This thing is too beautiful to be mine.
I wipe the tears from my face and rise with her in my arms. She wears the same tattered rags the rest of us wear, but that won't do today. Her face is muddy from helping me work the land and her hair is a tattered mess. She and her siblings look as though they've been dragged through the dirt, which they've likely been. I wish to see my child beautiful before I send her away.
The twins sit with their sister while I go to draw water for a bath. I step outside the wrecked house onto the equally wrecked block. The houses all have signs of wind and water damage, Most appear to be built out of driftwood or something else that washed up on the beach. That is, of course, except for the elder's houses, which are built out of fine colored glass and is decorated with seashells. As I walk my neighbors peer out their windows and realize that my family has been chosen. They draw away from the window as I near their door.
I draw up the buckets from the well and hurry back to my children. I look up and see the dark clouds looming above. The blue of the sky is completely blotted out and I can see the static that will soon appear in lightning. The storm has not yet begun. It does not start until they arrive. Still, I don't have much time.
I could not convince the twins to let go of my daughter, so I permit them to join her in the bath. I wish for them to remember her, but I worry how I will free her from them when her time comes. I wipe away the coated grime that has made its home in my children's and focus on memorizing the features on my daughter's face. I wish to remember her until I am buried six feet under.
I help my daughter get into her only good dress. It was a faded blue dress with light pink flowers printed all over it. The dress trailed down to her ankles and white trim was yellowed with time. It was meant to be reserved for the sixth birthday, a symbol of surviving past the ceremony, but now she will not, so it's fitting.
My daughter twirls in front of an old cracked mirror and turns to me. I finally see the start of tears forming in my child's eyes. I sweep her into my arms.
"I'm scared mommy," she whimpers.
I bite back a sob as I run my hands through her hair. "It's gonna be alright baby," I whisper, "You'll be okay." Of course, this is a lie. I have no way of knowing this.
We walk with the rest of the town down the cliff side to the beach. The families avoid looking at mine, keeping their eyes trained on the path. They will avoid this family until this time again next year when another family is chosen. One of the twins trips over his own feet. He keeps his firm hold on his sister's hand. The twins are too young to understand what is going on, but they do know their sister is about to be taken from me.
As we reach the bottom a cold hand grips my shoulder. I turn and see one of the six elders in the town. He wears a crisp black suit that fails miserably to cover for the rotting decay of his body. His body is bloated and his skin hideously discolored. Bugs run rampant both inside and outside his body. A maggot from under his broken fingernails crawls onto my shoulder.
"Hello, Josephine. Am I right to assume this is Elizabella?" He gestures to my daughter.
"Yes, elder." I bow my head in the expected fashion.
"Children," he addresses my daughter, " Why don't you all run ahead. I need to speak to your mother for a moment."
Eliza looks at me nervously.
"Run along. I will only hold her a moment." He seems cheerful. I fight the urge to punch him directly in the face.
I nod at my daughter and she guides the twins away. What will I do when I no longer have her to help me with the twins? The thought sends a new wave of grief through me.
The elder drapes his arm around me. He smells exactly how he looks. I fight the urge to puke.
"Walk with me, Jose." He guides me along the beach. "As you must already realize, your child will be going to the great cause of keeping our wonderful nation powerful and strong."
Anger coursed through my veins. Are the elders so detached that they do not realize how hated they are?
"Yes, sir," I say calmly.
The elder stops near where the other five elders and their parties stand. Each Elder has a party of about seven to twelve people. They all have the sigil of their elder branded on their neck. Their eyes go off in different directions as if they cannot focus a thought. He motions to a woman who stands leading his group, "You recognize her, don't you."
I feel fear tighten my throat. The woman's name is Elsie. She was last years mother ordered to give up her child. She, with the help of many other mothers and fathers, attacked the elders. They were not strong enough, however, to defeat the elder's power. Those who did not fight saw the blinding light that laid them all down from their windows. The next day Elsie's child was given up, her mother and father standing in the elder's parties along with the families who they led and their remaining children. We never knew what The Elders did to them, but we knew we could never defeat them.
The Elder smiles at my horrified face and guides me over to her, "She's loyal now, isn't that right sweetie?" He runs a finger down her cheek. She doesn't even react. "Now I know you would just LOVE to join her," his voice drips with sarcasm, "but I would advise you stay behind the circle when the ceremony starts. Otherwise, well..." he gestures back to his party.
I gulp and nod. To protect my remaining children, I must be a willing participant.
The elder's smile grows into a grin, "Well run along now. You don't want to miss your final goodbye."
I find my place beside my children and Elizabella hugs me close. I feel her tears and fight back my own. I pull her close and try to keep my breaths steady. The storm had begun. Thunder cracked and rumbled. The lighting streaked across the sky in droves. The wind freed my hair from my bun and tossed it all over my face. Seaspray slapped my face making it red and sore. The air was thick with fog, making each breath a chore. I pull my ragged clothes and children closer to me and tried to keep from shaking.
The six elders walk in a circle, drawing a line in the sand. We crowd towards the center until all space is filled. Then the elders begin their speech in unison,
"We thank the powers that be for the power we great six are granted to make our nation great. We thank the powers that be for our granted eternal life so that we can lead this land to prosperity. We thank the powers that be for the hard-working men and women for working in our fields, creating our goods, building our homes, and caring for our cattle. Lastly, We thank the powers that be for the Mothers who bear children to make our nation stronger. We now call forward the chosen child, who will go to you in thanks for our continued prosperity."
They motion towards my daughter. She takes a breath and takes her first step forward. She stops and looks at me. A choking sob escapes my lips and I double over. My child. My pride. My Joy. She lets go of my hand and walks to the center. The twins try to run to her but I grab their arms and Hold them to me, sobbing.
The elders grab my daughter's arm and held her tightly. My body is wracked with pain. I can barely keep myself from crying out.
"Elizabella," They cry in unison, "we thank you for your sacrifice. We know the powers that be will treat you well. Now, kneel before the great and powerful sea."
My beautiful baby girl kneels upon the sand. The waves lap near her, but it never hits her. It's like she is sitting in a bubble.
The elders began their ghoulish chant. I've heard it so many times I could recite it from the heart. That is if I could speak.
"Cuntes Derete Octama Ginibu Matito Ulterg Omilen Itabul Nonfes Nomand. Cuntes Derete Octama Ginibu Matito Ulterg Omilen Itabul Nonfes Nomand. Cuntes Derete Octama Ginibu Matito Ulterg Omilen Itabul Nonfes Nomand!"
With the final word thunder cracks. The wind picks up so I am barely staying grounded. The only light comes from the frequent lightning. I can only see flashes of my baby girl.
Then I see it.
The boat on the waves.
It rises out of the sea, water spilling out of the many holes in the hull. It looks to be made completely out of some sort of black wood. It rides smoothly through the rocky waves, riding directly through them. The sails are too tattered to collect wind, yet they swell as though they are still whole. Lighting seems to crackle around it as if attracted to some force within the ship.
As it grows closer the elders began to chant. They circle my daughter who hunches over, her wet hair obscuring her face. Every ounce of my being wants to run to her, but I fight it. The twins struggle in my arms.
The boat drives directly into the sand. It docks smoothly with eery precision. From the gaping hole in the ship jumps four hideous creatures. Only bits of flesh clinging to their body. The rest is salt washed bone. Their mouth's move as though they are speaking but no sound comes out. They all wear ragged black waistcoats and not much else. The man in the front wears a Tricorn hat and carries a large staff of metal and wood.
They stalk up to the elders and My daughter. The elders bow deeply with their palms out to the entities. They swerve their heads side to side as if looking for something. Then the one in the hat bends beside her. He cups her chin in his bony hand and stares at her. He then hits her with the staff and tosses her like a rag doll to his partner.
I let out a strangled scream. People turn to look at me but the entities do not. They simply turn to their ship. Suddenly, the twins manage to escape my arms and run towards the ship. Without thinking I follow them.
I manage to reach them only when they are at the feet of the entity in the hat. He towers over me as I draw my children into my arms. He stares at me and them, his head shifting on his neck making a popping noise. His eye sockets seem to glow with a devilish red light. He raises his staff.

And then everything goes dark.