Into the Oblivion

I could have done something, the mantra that repeats in my head. Could I have done anything, the second mantra, to stop what had happened to my people on that day? I could've turned back. I should've have turned back. Maybe if I stayed like Mama told me we would all still be together. Maybe we would all be safe some where in the depth that is the jungle. I miss Mother's warm hugs. My heartaches on the reality that I may never see her again. I miss Joáo. His hazel eyes always shone with curiosity. Those eyes often pulled him into tough situations. There is not a day that I don't think of them. Did they escape safely or were they captured too? Are they here, trapped like me? Or am I alone?

It's quiet where I am, except for the occasional buzz of air blowing for the top of the room and the tick of the flickering light. I'm crouched in a corner of the room. My hands pull my shins closer to my body as I sit and wait. The long, silent, dreadful wait. My breathing is slow and I lay my head down on my knees. The latch to the door cranks undone. The door heaves open and I'm blinded by the brightness from the outside. "Aooit," the bitter woman muttered, a term I've come to know as "leave".

On the first day I didn't understand her phrase. The woman grew frustrated and pulled me up by my ear, which wasn't pleasant. I'm used to the pattern now and go on my own. I rise slowly, arms at my sides and walk out to where I meet the two men dressed in dark grey, the color of the air crafts that brought me to this place. They are holding those shiny locks again. The man with a scar down his cheekbone snaps the locks onto my wrists, then they both grab hold of me. The men motion me to walk down the tunnel and I do so quietly.

I'm held on both sides. Why do they have to hold me so tightly? I frown and jerk my arms in frustration, their grip doesn't give a bit. Their grasp some how tighten and one of the men slips his hand to his waist. BIZZZT! I flinch at the sudden sound. Nothing has changed. I am reminded of the shock sticks strung at both of their hips. They all have them, and I have been so lucky as to already been acquainted.

We pause reaching the crosses roads where the men make the executive decision as to which way they would like to take to the white room. Will we go left? Right? Or carry on forward? The man to my right nods and reaches to his side. I shut my eyes. He's going to shock me. I brace myself for the terrible sensation that is to hit, but it doesn't. Instead I feel the grip to my left loosen. Steps sound, stopping before me.

I'm too scared to peek, so I don't. My breathing quickens with each passing beat. I'm standing still in the darkness. He's going to shock me. I know he's going to shock me. The sensation never comes. Instead I feel a soft fabric being placed over my eyes. What is this? I feel the man tie a knot behind my head and suddenly I'm spinning. One. Two. Three. My footing is lost and I'm drawn in an unknown direction.

Just as I've begun familiarizing each path they chose now to turn everything upside down. I'm never going to get out of here. I sigh maneuvering left and right then front and back. We carry on for what seems like forever until suddenly we stop. There's a click then the sound of an opening door. My eyes are unveiled and I'm in the white room. Behind me the door shuts with a clank. Great. I walk over to the seat awaiting me at the center of the room and sit.

There's a beep a moment later and a grey haired woman enters from a sliding door. She nears me, writing notes on a thin slab. There are blue symbols on the right of my forearm and she scans them. The woman touches my face, her hand blue gloved and frowns. She hands me a cup of clear substance and I drink. A switch is flicked and the back of my seat buzzes downward. She shines a light to my face checking my eyes, ears and mouth. My vision trickles to black from whatever she gave me. My forearm is prickled. There's a sound of steady beeping before all fades to nothing.

***

The sun set, dimming the evening sky to a deep orange. "Amalia would you come here please," asked father. The village fire had already been set to flame. Father sat alone legs crossed at the right hand side of the our tribe leader Tabuka. Our leader's eyes were weary. I dust my hands of the dried herb I'd grounded and went to Father. He pats the earth beside him, eyes gazing into the flame. I cross my legs as he exhales softly. Tabuka rises to his feet. His hand is on Father's shoulder. "It has to be done," our leader says before walking away. My hands rest in my lap as the fire crackles before us. It's just Father and me here. There's the distant sound of the rest of the village feasting and celebrating the night of the full moon. Father rests his arm around my shoulder and exhales a heavy breath. "We are entering a new age, Amalia." He begins to say. "For centuries, the council has managed to shelter our village from the unknown." The light flickers and father continues to speak. "The chosen where brave enough to ventured the unknown and they have seen much evil." Father pauses for a moment. "You've seen the clouds of grey and rising number of fires." My heart beat began to quicken. "And I know you have heard the whispers of rebellion." A chilling dread falls over me at his words. For centuries we have lived in peace, isolated from the outside world, but somehow it seems to keep seeping in. Father takes my hand into his, "At dawn our chosen warriors will launch an attack on the one responsible of the destruction of our forests... and I will be leading them." My heart sinks. "Father no!" I cried. "Please, you can't! I clung to him, and heavy sobs escape from me. Father exhales heavily as his arms embrace me. I cry until my tear run dry. Father caresses my face and wipes my tears away. We sit in silence. In the distance the festival had begun to die down. The fire has dimmed to a crackle, and there is a warm breeze. "Look at the stars, Amalia." Strangely the sky was clear tonight. There were no ash or clouds in sight. "Each one has a purpose, just like you and me," Father says. "And together they shine brighter than they would if they stood alone." The sky twinkled as father spoke. He fiddled with his wrist until his bracelet unclasps. Without another word father handed it to me and I'm taken aback. Only members of the village council were permitted to obtain them and those who weren't descendants couldn't even see. The bracelet was woven intricately with crimson, sapphire and gold. Dangling from the jewelry was a golden charm, where a pattern of stars was imbedded. "Father, why are you giving me this?" I asked, the knot in my throat began to tighten. "This bracelet holds great potential power, Amalia." Gently father takes the piece and claps it around my wrist. "I trust you will stand into your own truth when your time comes." Father's eyes met mine, tears were streaming down his face. "It is yours if I do not retune."

***