The night sky by eric hines

Aria Baldi

United States

Princess Havana

March 2, 2016

PROMPT: Open Prompt

1
The sun beat down on the white figures. The figures shined, there perfect skin glistening white. The majority had blonde hair although a few had honey colored waves rippling down their back. Blue and green eyes flashed at me. A breeze breathed into my face warm and wet. I heard a young voice "they're gorgeous", her voice was a whisper almost as soft and warm as the sunshine. The white figures smelled like all different types of herbs, Thyme, Rosemary, mint, and basil. The strongest of the smells was thyme, washing over us like a wave of good memories.
    Flashing back to reality I looked around at all the villagers around me, all the woman wore black dresses, and the men pants and shirts, and black veils. We're at a funeral. I pinched myself for forgetting. My own black veil dimmed the brightness of the beings. That's probably why we wear them, it would blind us otherwise. I could see the end of the line of people approaching. How this ceremony worked is they chanted "Buriani kuaga" eighty two times, and we chanted it back three.
    "Buriani kuaga" -one-"Buriani kuega" -two-"Buriani kuega." Three. I gulped. A woman burst into tears to my right. It was Gretta, the village healer.
    "I could have saved her!" The woman wailed. "I could have saved them all!" The woman's sobs were ridged and sharp. 
    "No you couldn't of, no one knows where the sickness came from!" I looked back to where the white people had stood, they were getting smaller and smaller in the distance, and then they were gone. The woman's sobs stopped, she stopped moving, everyone stopped moving, crying and talking. Here it goes again. I felt scared. An empty pit had just opened up in my stomach, and engulfed my guts. I was alone. 5...4...3...2... The villagers stood and walked off, retreating under their thatched roofs and erased minds. And there I stood, like I had so many times before, wondering why. My lungs tightened and my throat closed. "Why me..." I wondered.
    "Your special my Birdie," My mother had told me this when I was eight.
    "What do you mean?" I had asked. Mama tipped my face towards hers.
    "You see things, things that nobody else can." I had grinned at her feeling special and important. 
    Stupid girl. I thought bitterly. I walked towards my hut and wished that I too could forget who I had lost. 
    
    The next morning I awoke to the sound of hooves. Horses? I asked myself. I bolted upright. Who was on horses in my village? I jumped out of bed and rushed outside. 16 men on horses sat up straight and tall. I gulped I was in for it now.
    "Who are you strangers?" I asked. "Friend, or foe," I added. They looked at me their eyes bored.
    "Neither," a man answered, He wore a blue hat and had grey eyes. "Who is the leader of this village?" 
I gulped, this could mean anything. Now I think it is time to tell you about my village. And me. 
    My name is Havana, named after where my people go when old enough. Every year in June we hold a ceremony excusing the dead, and after that no one remembers who was excused. My father is this villages leader, and is the strongest and most handsome man in the town. He's also the most kind and loving, and people call him Bear because of these reasons. (We believe the bear to be kind gentle and yet ferocious).
     That is all that you will need to know for now. I looked the man in the blue hat in the eye. They were cold, not mean, just cold.
    "I shall go and wake him." I said rushing into my hut. The men had looked at me with such a mean that it made me nervous.
"Papa," I said shaking him awake. He opened his eyes and grunted
"16 men have entered the village I know none of them." His eyes widened. He sat up and rubbed his brow.
"Do they look like friend or foe."
"Neither" I said now shaking.
"Where in the village?" He asked.
"Just outside our tent." Papa looked worried.
"Stay here, and don't show yourself." He said. I gulped. Too late. I whispered.

Half an hour passed, then an hour. My father had led the men away into the largest hut meant as the villages meeting room. All of the woman in our tribe had been separated and put into one tent while the girls into another. 
    "What do they want?" Giana, a 15 year-old girl asked. Her green eyes were scared and worried and sad all at the same time.
    "Don't worry, Bear will protect us." I said hoping I sounded more confident than I felt. By the looks on the other girls faces, I had. Good, I thought. That's your job right now.
      

The night passed without any rest. The girls huddled in a circle trying to preserve the heat. Still my father had not returned.

The morning came, and so did the news.
"The men have come on behalf of the king!" the girls exclaimed. Which king. I wanted to ask.

Then the real news arrived.
    My fathers face looked tired and was creased with worry.
    "Father, What is happening?"  I asked. He shook his head and grunted,

Then the next morning I was told.
"Princess Havana is coming with us to be married to the prince." One of the men declared. I swear I was turned to ice.



-TO BE CONTINUED
 

Print

See History
  • March 2, 2016 - 4:29pm (Now Viewing)

Login or Signup to provide a comment.