((This chapter is so trite that I almost want to strangle myself. How many times have we seen the "abandonment" card played in a story, anyone? How can I sink to this level, using an opener so overdone? :'( *sigh* But anyway, I hope to take this normally mundane story and turn it into something more extraordinary. Chapter three should begin to pick things up, trust me. During the first draft of a novel, my first two chappies ALWAYS suck. Language has been editied out.
))
Whisper to the Sky
©K.E. Wesch Chapter One: The OrphanPeople say life is unfair. But no-one ever said life had to be
this unfair.
Caught in the last radiant ―if only you could call them radiant― beams of a day too long, Sasha’s parents shared their final caress on the inside of the doorframe. To the far right, the diamond-crossed links of the
Fence shimmered with sunset light and sagged but a few feet from the weight of years. Sun never came here. For all anyone knew, sun never came
anywhere. The sun was more mythic than legend. The sky was nothing but an eternal blanket of red and white roiling clouds during the day, and a bluer, darker hue of the same at night. At sunset, such as it was then, the sky drew forth whatever perseverance it possessed and tinged every cloud a darker red than before, turning the white ones into a creamy orange.
Always, always, the promise of the clouds breaking apart was there. Every once and awhile a spot among the clouds would grow light, gleaming almost, only to be covered up yet again.
With this logic,
anything could be hiding behind the hazy sky.
Sasha hesitated. The eleven-year-old wanted to drop the baskets of bread and canned water she’d bought at market a small while ago, rush across the front yard, leap between her parents, and stop this. Just put an end to it. But she didn’t.
They were talking, lowly enough she couldn’t hear. A mechanical cleaner darted between their legs and out of the house into the sand, obviously harried about something. Sasha.
Making little metallic chirps all the way, it glided over and came to a stop at her feet.
It was upset about the mud caked on her bare legs. Earlier, she’d spent some time playing with friends in the river. She ignored the cleaner, however, her eyes fixed upon her parents and the embrace they were sharing.
Hiss. Angrily, the cleaner set to work. It rose up to full height. Robotic arms shot out, tipped with wetted brushes, and began to relieve Sasha of her mud problem. The thing was shaped like a mouse, but was much larger, about two feet in height when standing, and had an array of cleaning utensils hidden in its stomach, under the amorous metal shell.
A moment longer her parents lingered in each others’ arms before braking apart.
What were they doing?
This couldn’t be happening, no, not her parents. Not hers.
Dropping everything, kicking over the poor cleaning mouse who practically growled with mousey anger, Sasha could not bear it anymore and ran to them.
Her mother was the first to notice Sasha, who stood in front of them silently.
“Oh, honey,” she started. “We’re so sorry.”
Sasha did not reply.
“Sasha, honey, we never thought it would happen to our family. I want you to know that, alright?”
The child nodded slowly, mute for the moment.
“But we have to do it. That’s the important thing. You know we love each other. And we love you, we love you more than anything.” By now, Sasha’s mother was kneeling down, taking up her child’s arms tightly, blue eyes doleful, voice on the edge of breaking. “But we have to do this. God, I love you so much, baby,” she cried. Salty tears at last fell and Sasha was taken in a full embrace.
“Why do
they have to take you somewhere?” the child begged. Her voice came quickly for once, if jittery. She didn’t cry. Either because she did not understand fully or because she didn’t want to.
“Because
they don’t value the wholeness of a family.”
Sasha, being as inquisitive as any girl her age, could sense a cover-up here, but did not probe. “Where are you going?” she asked instead. She knew the answer already. Just wanted to hear her mother speak it aloud.
A pause. Her father, who had been resting against the door frame, joined them in the parting embrace. “We’ll be back,” he said in haughty defiance.
“They can’t keep us away from each other. Why, that’s just unnatural, isn’t it. Luna?”
Luna, still wrapped between her daughter and husband, nodded, then pulled out from between them. “I wish we’d had more warning. This is way too fast. One day, we’re just like everyone else, and the next…”
Sasha let out a pitiful cry and reached for the hem of her mother’s purple ankle-length dress. She had not wanted her to pull back. She still wanted to feel her warmth, her love, while she had the chance.
Luna did not come back to her child’s arms. Rather, she stood up, leaving father and daughter together. Sometimes the woman could be a bit selfish, though the others had not realized the full extent of that until now. She turned around, hands caught in her waves of black hair, and went back into the house for a last cry.
The cleaning mouse had gathered itself, and now desperately groped to reach Sasha’s legs with the wetted brushes, pushed away every time. It was one obstinate machine. One that did not understand human emotion.
“I
promise, baby, promise.” Her father gripped her tighter. He was a heavy man, with a freckled face cherubic, and hugging him was a soft comfort. “We’re going to return. It may be when you’re a lot older, I know that. You know that. But we are going to come back. Those bastards can’t keep us. No way.” He took her chin in his hand. “You listening? This is the last time we get to speak before
they get here.”
“I am. I love you,” she said.
“I love you too. So much.”
“You won’t forget your dear ol’ ma and pa?”
“Oh, heck no,” Sasha said teasingly. She enjoyed making plays on her father’s use of language.
He smiled. “Your mother loves you too, she just has a different way of showing it.”
“I can see.” Dread entered her heart, cutting down the humor, the little hope she held, and a dark yet fraught question formed. One the child had already asked. “Where are you going?”
“I don’t know for sure. That’s the thing.
They say they have a special place for adults, because the adults are harder to get into Focus than children, who can stay here and grow up without much interruption. But I don’t see how the hell children can be expected to grow up without parents.”
“But then―”
“Don’t worry. You’re going over to Liss’s. She knows how to take care of kids, she’s had plenty.”
“But―”
“Everything will work out. You just have to have a little bit of faith. Hard to come by, but I’m sure you can handle it, honey.”
He had not been letting her ask what she really wanted to ask.
“But when is this place gonna fall down?”
This one gave her father a longer pause than usual. Sasha waited patiently. “I have no idea, baby. No idea whatsoever.”
________________
She was not allowed to speak to her parents as they left. According to
them, any outburst during the last moments of extraction would lead to things unnecessary and troublesome. This was only the second time during her life that she’d seen
them with her own eyes, the first being when
they first took over the town. She had been very small, and thus remembered little at all of the initial invasion.
Now here she was, back to the wall of what only yesterday was her home, watching
them take away her parents for good.
They had denied her so much as the opportunity to hug her parents before they climbed aboard the ‘car’ to never be seen again. She could only watch from this distance. Oh, how Sasha wanted to be right there, how she had begged and begged and begged for
them to take her too, she didn’t care where they were going, just take her too…To not even the tiniest avail. Sasha was ignored as easily and utterly as a fly swatted away.
They were not ordinarily scary people. Rather, these men were a well-bred bunch from bigger, more advanced cities beyond the reach of her imagination, with the delicately sharp features, deeply beautiful eyes, and well-combed, slick hair to match.
Their uniforms were very unusual and of high quality. Perfectly pressed black pants, so well brought up around the waist and seamed just right to make
their legs look almost straight. Glossy black shoes. A long-sleeved shirt of the same dark color, with a white bandana tied around one arm.
They all wore stiff white hats.
Luna was the first to climb in the ‘car.’ Two of
them, one on either side, assisted her into the floating, lustrous black vessel. She didn’t look back. It almost managed to break Sasha’s heart. Her father came next, and he managed a wave, nodding over his shoulder in her direction. Sasha waved in return. Grimly, she watched as one of
them climbed in alongside her parents, and the other three return to their set seating in the front of the ‘car,’ without as much as a word.
They had proven to be quite silent in their actions.
“I love you,” Sasha mouthed.
She was cold, legs breaking out in small waves of gooseflesh, blood flowing slowly. She wondered when, if ever, she would be reunited with her parents. She wondered what exactly could lie beyond the horizons of both sight and imagination that was this important. She wondered if Liss would come over to get her tonight or leave her with a period of mourning.
The girl shivered and wrapped her arms around herself.
This night was going to be dang lonely.
Meager light from other houses cast the desert street in a waif-like glow. Night had come quickly. Cerulean clouds swam the dark sky. Weeds teeming on the edges of white picket fences thrashed silently from an untouchable breeze. The
Fence itself continued to stand its permanent ground, off to the distant right, twenty feet tall with lethal barbed wire coiled around the top edge.
Soon, the ‘car’ purred to life. Headlights flickered on. The windows were tinted the darkest shade of black; she could not tell whether anyone inside was looking at her, mouthing final goodbyes, or whether they focused on the floor, static. Dust kicked up underneath, generated from whatever mechanics kept it afloat, scattering grains of sand everywhere in one fluid burst. It turned around smoothly before heading off in the direction of the
Fence. Sasha was tempted to follow, tempted to run after it, screaming and howling for the return, the safety of her kin. She did to a point. But after it got ahead of her by ten feet, Sasha gave up.
When she could no longer see the ‘car,’ she began to sob, curling up into a ball of self-protection, watching the day’s ants return to their colonies through the sand with paltry interest, tears gathering . No-one bothered to come out from their homes to comfort the newly orphaned. A few pulled back curtains at the sound of the leaving vehicle, after all, vehicles were extremely rare here, but when they saw the sobbing girl, she became ‘just another orphan’ in their eyes. The people did not want to be reconciled by sadness, so simply ignored the cause.
Sasha continued to cry as the night hours went on, not hearing a sound of it or anything else for that matter over the anguish of her heartbreak.
Her world had been brought to a noiseless standstill.
________________________________________________________________________
A/N: This is mostly a direct result of my listening to/watching waayyy too many Pink Floyd videos/songs. I wrote this chapter in a pretty psychedelic mood, and created the plan for the story in the same essence. Warning: If Pink Floyd music/videos creep you out, then this story will eventually, in some distant chapter, creep you out just as much if not more.
You will see a lot of elements from The Wall, such as the system of government, the animals and setting, as well as Sasha’s more introspective moments.
There are also some apocalyptic elements that will make this seem like a distant future of Earth, but I’m going to admit that’s not my original view of this. This is supposed to be on another world, though it is just as interchangeable with an apocalyptic future…So I guess it’s up to you how you want to think of it.
Last but not least: My system of italics might be confusing at first. But you should get the hang of it soon. Whenever I am talking about “Them” (reference to the song ‘Us and Them’), or the bad guys in other words, the names “they/them/their” will be in italics.
When I am not talking about the bad guys, “them/they/their” will NOT be in italics. Kay? Also, important permanent things, such as the “Fence” are also written in italics for namesake.
P.S. This chapter, to action lovers, may have seemed boring, but I prefer to aim for the heart BEFORE I aim for the gut, and draw readers in with mystery rather than action. The next few chapters will pick up the pace and get a lot more intense, or at least I plan on them doing so.
