Did I scare you, blog readers? I mean, it’s getting pretty late on Friday afternoon — maybe you were thinking I had let a week go by without publishing a new edition of Reader Art of the Week. Well, if so, fear not! I’m here and ready to rock and roll.
This week’s art comes to us from blog reader Nicole. It’s in the form of a first part of a first chapter of a novel she’s writing. The novel is called Peratants: Year 1, and it’s about a very special girl named Emma Williams.
Check it out:
A baby sat in a cot, its face innocent, its expression unknowing. On either side of it were its parents, conversing in low voices as they gazed up at the sky.
“It is time,” the man said in a voice unlike any human’s, one filled with a strange, otherworldly context.
The woman nodded, and then began moving her hands in an odd fashion, muttering strangely as her eyes began to glow. The man joined in, his words intertwining with hers, until they created a melody, one that was not happy, yet not sad, one that spoke of hope and a new world.
“Permissum eclipse orior oriri ortus, permissum sol solis quod luna fio unus, permissum astrum fulsi ut is orior oriri ortus, ut lucror bellum, planto eclipse expleo explevi expletum oraculum.” The melody went on, and, as they sang, the sun moved ever so slightly, and the moon went around, joining it, plunging everything into complete darkness. As it went, the baby still sat, quietly and still, until the mother leaned over to the cot, and spoke softly.
“We expect great things from you,” she whispered, then the man pulled her away, and they both vanished into the darkness. And the baby began to cry, to wail, a wail that was mixed in with my own, one that made hot tears mingle on my cheeks, as a blue light started to cover everything and make me cry out in despair—
“Wake up, you hopeless child!” A sharp voice cut through my dreams, one that felt even more painful after the soft singing that I had just encountered. I blearily opened my eyes, and found myself looking into the cold, dark face of the matron.
“You’re a real nuisance, you know that?” she said, leering in my face. “No wonder your parents stuck you in this orphanage. They were probably happy to go.” She then continued to call me something that made my eyes prickle with shame.
“Aww…” Another girl in the room awoke. “Did wittle Emma have nightmares again?”
“Be QUIET!” I yelled at her. “I don’t care!”
“Don’t care?” she mocked. “You don’t care that you were abandoned? In an old house? God, I don’t blame your parents for leaving you.”
I had had enough. I strode over to the girl, and, in one sharp movement, pushed her off her bed and onto the floor. Stomping over her, I proceeded out of the door and into the hallway, where I climbed up a narrow ladder that led to the top of the building. There I slumped, breathing loudly. I had pushed someone. I was lucky if I escaped getting thrown out.
Cool, huh? There was a lot more to the first chapter, but I thought this was a good place to end off. I don’t know about you, but I can’t wait to find out what the significance of the dream was, and what will happen to Emma next. Let me know if you’d like to read more, and I’ll try to post another installment soon.
Many thanks to Nicole for sending in her story. (Note: this isn’t the first time Nicole has sent us some of her fiction. Click here to check out more of her work.)
One last thing: once again, my cupboard of reader art is starting to get a little bare, and I need you guys to help me fill it back up. Please send your drawings, photos, stories, poems, or anything else to firstname.lastname@example.org and I’ll try to post them all up on the blog soon.
Have a great weekend!