Feather Witch

Every Heaven Brings Hell

        Darkness. It's all that I can actually see. At least, that's what everyone believes I see. Oh, how wrong they are. But of course, I would never tell them that. I wouldn't want to anger or upset them in any way- because, they are family to me. What I actually see is far beyond my comprehension. I see both the past, and the future at once. I see colors unlike any of those in life or death. Yet, I only see these things in my dreams, when I visit the ancestors of my tribe

        Once again, like every other day of my life, I open my eyes to be greeted with darkness. Although it's dark, I can still sense the surrounding walls of the cave. The many markings of the ancient witch doctors from the tribe's past have been left behind to comfort me every dusk and dawn. Every so often, I reach out my slender fingers to touch the dried chalk hand prints. The cold sensation runs from the tips of my fingers to the beating heart within me, filling me with pleasant chills. I can see the faint images of previous healers who had served their tribe with their heart and souls, their outlines a sparkly light illuminating my everlasting darkness. As I've said before, every heaven brings a hell, and the remains of that hell linger within this cave just as this heaven does.

        I've come across that hell once before, it still bringing horrid parasites into my mind. My curiosity had taken over that day, drowning out the intense waves of nausea pulsing from the oozing obsidian hand print. A single touch was all I needed to stumble back, covering my mouth to prevent everything within me to start pouring out. Flashes of a twisted man adorned in the scars of birds' fury and bones of... people. A voice began to lure me back to reality from the sight. It was heavenly- just as the ancestors... To this day I've never dared approach, nor come in contact with the hellish prints of the Unspoken.

        Rising from the sandy floor, I brushed off the sand grains from the white leapoard's cloth hanging from my dried grass skirt. Although I had a great night of sleep, and a peaceful episode of dreams, my bones were aching from the position I had been sitting in. Yes, I sit with my legs crossed while I sleep, the reason- so that I don't appear before the ancestors laying down disrespectfully. When it comes to the spirits, I become very strict with the way I approach and speak to them. I see myself as the messenger for the ancestors. Although, I'm too humbled when in their presence to even speak. Ah, what pleasant dreams I receive- most of the time... Pulling my arms above my head, I can feel the pressure lessening. Heaving a sigh I straighten up, standing to my height of nearly five feet. I have to at least be the shortest of my tribe, most of the children are already taller then me. I really wonder if I were a rushed creation sometimes, but that would be doubting the spirits...

        Walking forward my feet sink slightly into the soft sand, the bottles of medicine clinking as my hips sway gently with each step I take, ringing in my ears quietly. I move aside the vines hanging over the mouth of the cave as a curtain. The bright sun of dawn shines through the faint rustling of leaves overhead, lighting the camp. Warmth floods my tan skin, sending a final shiver down my spine. I can hear the quiet whisper of distant conversations, but as I walk towards the voices, they only get quieter. Of course, I know why. It's because they all feel bad for me. Every single one- that is, except for the chief... I'm thankful for this. The one soul that doesn't notice my blindness, but instead my intentions and heart. You could say I've had an infatuation with him before, but I would only reject the idea and keep it to myself. His is most definitely the strongest of all of us, single-handedly taking down a beast attacking the tribe. It left large scars along his shoulder, running down his chest. I would know this because I was the one to treat it.

        Turning towards the voices, I gazed blindly at the two grown women. They gasped quietly, then almost immediatly turned on their knees towards my small figure, and bowed their heads. "Dawn's light awake your spirit, Wise One?" One of them asked quietly. I could feel her eyes on me, and I nodded, smiling gently. "Why of course, although, you have no need to call me that... Haven't I told you before?" I chuckled. She quickly replied, her voice wavering nervously. "M-My mistake, Feather Witch!" She apologized all too quickly, making me sigh, while the other only kept her head bowed. I shook my head, speaking quietly before walking off. "You may rise." Not waiting for an answer, I headed off towards the trees, away from camp. Already I needed to clear my mind- it was convenient enough that I had to collect more herbs for my medicine...

        Sometimes, I wish I could just join the ancestors without having to worry about my blindness... or even the constant dangers lurking every moment used to search for the healing leaves of the forest.