I live in a small village unknown to the rest of the world. We rarely see outsiders, in fact I don't truly know if our village has ever seen outsiders in its entirety of existence. We live off of our modest crops which yield fairly decently each year, usually providing enough for the entire villages population. My name is Micah. I'm currently the age of 13, and female. I live in a hut with my mother Benurvah, but I just call her mother or mom like most people would if they were her child. I don't have any siblings. I did when I was younger, but my older brother died when I was only a few years old and I barely remember him. I never met my father, my mother never told me what happened to him either. Despite our villages decent stock in terms of food, we were lacking in other departments. For one, we didn't have much to go by in way of clothing, my outfit was practically rags. My few other outfits consisted of assorted rags of different varying colors. I liked to wear the brighter one on special occasions. We all wore nothing upon our feet, so our feet were often muddy or dirty. If an outsider crept upon our village they would most likely think it smelled, but we were all used to it here. It was home after all.
What kept our village thriving was the weather. It would rain every week or so, providing us with a means of cleaning ourselves, our rags, our produce, and providing us with a means of drink. There were no lakes or rivers to be heard of, at least within walking distance. If a villager had found a mass of water, we never heard from them. Our population was about twenty humans total at the best of times, with a few animals such as sheep and pigs and chickens on the side. They were fed grass or other plants we could scavenge. I don't know if they really enjoyed eating nothing but greens, but they didn't complain if this was the case. Our housing conditions were simple huts made of straw and mud. There were enough for every family in the village, and one extra big hut for the "elder" of our village. We called her "Mooka" no one ever really explained what this meant, so I just go along with it. Today was the mark of an unfortunate occurrence. The skies had been bleak and gloomy, yet lacked any substance. We hadn't seen rain in at least two weeks now.
I sit in front of my hut, my greenish gems peering up at the sight above me. There wasn't honestly much to see, but for some reason deep down I thought maybe if I stared long enough the sky would feel uncomfortable and decide to give in. No luck. After about an hour I dust off my knees and hop to my feet. My hair was a long dark brown, flowing down my back. It was one thing about myself I was proud of, but there was no one to impress here. I always thought about what it would be like outside of the village. Like any other day, I ponder this as I make my way across the line of huts directly across from ours. Most of my neighbors are going about their day as normal. No one seemed to be worried about the lack of rain for some reason. My feet squish into the dirt as I look over at Jumbi. Jumbi was a girl around my age. We were friends. She was always making pictures, and I enjoyed looking at them. Today she was drawing something familiar.
I hasten my walk and plop my behind beside her, my eyes darting to hers. "Jumbi, what is that your drawing?" Jumbi's mouth forms a smile and she reveals her fairly dirty teeth. "It's The Rain Giver. Mooka mentioned it to me." I tilt my head to the side in thought. The Rain Giver was unfamiliar to me, yet familiar at the same time. The strange shadowy figure looked like something that had appeared in my dreams many a time. I often woke up after dreaming of sitting in front of it. It always stared but nothing ever happened in those dreams. I examine Jumbis drawing a bit more thoroughly. I imagined if the creature was real, what it would look like. Its several giant snake-like limbs. Its gigantic gaping mouth with several jagged teeth. Its one piercing eye. Its horns. It was unbelievable. "Do you believe everything Mooka says?" I figured I would ask Jumbi, as I always had doubts myself. "Of course, Mooka is the elder. My mom said we must follow Mookas teachings or else we will lose our way." Jumbi folded up her drawing and ran into her house.
I could presume she probably threw it into her stash of drawings. Soon after she is darting out of her hut. Something about Jumbi I admired was her hair. It was a different color than mine. It was blonde. Jumbi smiles up at me again, blinks, and begins to speak. I stand up and prepare myself. "Want to go see Mooka with me?" I shake my head. "No thanks, Id rather play." Jumbi shrugs and runs off towards Mooka The Elders hut. Jumbi used to play with me a lot more, but lately, ever since the rain stopped, many of my fellow villagers have begun to go to Mooka for advice. I shrug and go play with a stick in the dirt for a while.
Time passes. The two weeks of no rain had turned into six, around 42 days if I was correct.We still had water left over from all the previous times it had rained. We we smart enough to gather water every time it rained, and thus we had a backup and method of taking care of ourselves in a time like this. Despite that, I was worried. I am worried. Our backup water would only last so long, and their were nineteen of us to be taken care of, excluding our numerous animal companions (mainly used for food). A few weeks ago we had lost an older villager to sickness, with no means of healing them. His name was Avak. I don't know how old he was, but he looked pretty old. It may have been his time. This morning I am staring up at the sky again. "Micah dear, can you help me for a moment?" It was my mothers voice. I get to my feet and turn around. My mother was lugging the carcass of a sheep. I rush over to my moms side and immediately begin carrying the sheep with her. It was heavy, but not to heavy for the two of us. My mom soon starts a fire and calls over our neighbors. Jumbi, her parents, and her younger sister Hepnu sit beside me and my mother. The lamb is roasting upon the fire, and we all have clay plates in front of us. Small clay cups are filled ever so slightly with water. We had to be sparing with our water now, with the lack of rain. I place some of my hair behind my ear, turning to Jumbi. "Its your birthday soon right Jumbi?" Jumbis parents were busy talking to my mother, so I decide to seize the opportunity to talk to my only real friend. Jumbi nods and grins her usual smile. "Yep, I'll be 13 like you soon. It's only three days away now." Jumbi crawled over to my side, accidentally knocking into her sister Hepnu in the process. Hepnu was a lot younger than the two of us, and prone to outbursts. She begins wailing and her parents turn.
I can see the fear in Jumbis eyes as she goes pale. She turns to her mother and father. Without hesitation, her father shakes his head and smacks Jumbi with a hefty wallop across her face. There's a visible mark and a chalky blood drips from her nostril. It wasn't unheard of for children in our village to be disciplined for wrongdoing, but Jumbis parents were a different story. They always treated her fair worse than anyone else. I felt sorry for her but there wasn't much I could do in my position. I tried holding back but my jaw couldn't help but attempt to leave my body, as if it needed to free itself from what it had witnessed. "What have we told you? Don't bother your sister." Her father boomed. Hepnu was now being held and shushed by her mother, who was gently patting her back as if she was some sort of deity who needed to be nurtured constantly. Jumbi was crying and pools of liquid were forming around her eyes. She was sniffling, trying with all of her being not to full on cry.
My mother was different, similar to me, but different than most of the villagers. She didn't agree with how everyone else treated the children of our village. She believed in respect and treating everyone equally despite age. She had told me growing up she didn't really believe in Mookas teachings, but if this was shared with the rest of the village it would be blasphemy. I could see my mother being burned alive for such a belief. After witnessing the current event, my mother reaches her hand across the fire and grips Jumbis fathers hefty arm, mid raise. I did not know for sure, but it was safe to assume he was preparing for another swing. Inspired by my moms action, I pull Jumbi towards me, resting her head on my chest. I pat her head slightly, and the words naturally flow. "You'll be okay Jumbi." I whisper to her. Her father is furious. "How dare you, a lowly woman touch me in that way?!" He begins to violently scream at my mother. Jumbi and Hepnus mother turns to him and shakes her head, still holding Hepnu. "Lets just leave. They can keep Jumbi, shes a disgrace." In response, Jumbis father angrily shakes his head, and grabs Jumbi from me. My mom is unable to stop him.
The family leaves without joining us for the feast. In the end, my mom and I eat alone. "Mom, why is Jumbi treated that way?" My mom shakes her head as I break the silence. She begins to rub my back as I take a bite of sheep. "Because she is different. Some don't see that we are all truly different and that, that is a positive thing." My mother smiles at me and I remember why I look up to her so fondly. My mother was so special to me. I drop the remains of my meal, to save it for later, and embrace my mother in a long warm hug. I feel as if I am a cub, hibernating for winter. I soon fall asleep in my mothers arms.
Time passes again. I haven't seen Jumbi in a long while, ever since the incident at meal time. It has been 20 weeks. 140 days. I missed Jumbis birthday. I don't know what I would have gifted her if I had attended, or if it even would have been celebrated. Our population was now seventeen. Two villagers had left in search of rain but never returned. The rain had not resumed. I stared up at the sky. My brows were furrowed. I decided to look for Jumbi. I scampered over to her hut, carefully. I didn't want her parents to spot me, or her younger sister Hepnu. I make it to the entrance to her hut and peer in. I see her, she is in her room. There are no doors in our village. There was no sign of her parents. My feet move without thinking and make a cracking sound against the straw below my feet. Jumbi looks up at me immediately. "Stop!" She cries out while raising a hand. "I'm not allowed to see you or your mom. I'm not allowed to leave either. They won't even let me draw anymore." Upon closer inspection, Jumbi looked terrible. Her eyes were sunken and she looked as if she had no smiled in forever. Her blonde hair was now a dirty mess, and her rags were unkempt. I wanted to help with all of my might, so I tried. I leaped forward and made a race towards her. Scooping her up into my arms with what strength I had, I attempted to carry her out of the hut, and succeeded. Jumbi had no strength to struggle. "I'm getting to somewhere safe." I speak up as I take action, carrying her within my arms towards my hut. She was so light now. I look every direction whilst making my way to my hut, in the hopes of no villager spotting us. Thankfully, from what I could see, we arrived unseen.
I place Jumbi in the room of our hut, spreading what blankets we had over-top of her to hide her. I peered under the blankets after doing so and stared her in the eyes. "I'm going to keep you safe. You are my only friend and I care about you." I push as much meaning into my speech as possible in this statement. My mom had taught me kindness. Jumbi began to smile. It would never be the same as the smiles I knew, a far cry of what they could be, but I was happy she was feeling slightly better at least. I gather some leftover Pig and begin feeding her. There wasn't much water leftover in the village overall, but we had a decent enough stash to last a few more weeks. I was hoping the rain would come back soon. Even less villagers were up and about nowadays. Most were praying with Mooka now. I could hear them from my hut. Jumbi went to sleep and eventually my mother got home. I explained the situation to her and there was barely any shock. She held me close and praised me for my actions, kissing me on the forehead. I wondered if what I did was truly right. Me and my mom cuddled up against Jumbi and fell asleep.
The next morning the sky was the same. My mom was already off to do her duties for the day, like every day my mom was a hard worker. Jumbi was lying next to me, but she wasn't moving. I shook her a few times. "Jumbi, its time to wake up. Jumbi?" She won't budge. Jumbi was dead. For the first time in a long time, I began to rain. My tears poured out in droves atop Jumbis corpse. I had lost my only friend. She was smiling. Our villages population was now even smaller, but that wasn't on my mind. My mind was now blank. I left my hut and looked up at the sky. Nothing. The only water was what was coming out of me. I peer around, to see who was awake, but there was almost no one up and about. I could hear praying nearby. I went back to sleep near Jumbi, deciding today was not the day for adventure.
Me and my mother secretly buried Jumbi, and since than even more time has passed. We were lucky enough that her family never found out what happened. They had assumed she had run away, and had no worry in this regard. We already knew they did not care for her in the slightest. Things continued the way they normally would. The sky stayed the same, more and more people flocked to Mooka. There was no Jumbi. No drawings, no smiles. My mother still loved and took care of me.
Eventually, 500 days had passed without rain. Over a year had passed, and our population was now a measly ten. Jumbis dad had passed earlier in the year, and I had hoped wherever he ended up it was no where near Jumbi, so she could be in peace. Her mother was left taking care of Hepnu. Also earlier in the year, I celebrated my 14th birthday. My mom made me a grand feast (with what little we have) and treated me like a queen for the day. It was enjoyable, but my mind was still plagued with thoughts of Jumbi. I stare up at the sky. Something I did every day now. A few villagers head past me towards the Mooka The Elders hut. We were running scarcely low on water now, our animals were dying and what little crops we had left with them. I recognize a villager passing by and crane my neck towards him. He was in his fifties and donned a gray beard along with messy gray hair. His name was Capnir. He shakes his head at me and I instantly feel my eyes squint in question. "Benurvah your mother is gone. Its because she didn't believe, just like you." Without a moments notice his feet continue to make their way towards the Elders Hut. "What the hell do you mean?!" I rarely swear or yell for that matter, but this was a special occasion.
I dart towards Capnir and grip his cloth with all my might. "I said what the hell do you mean? Wheres my mother? Wheres Benurvah?" My voice is frantic and full of panic. "I told you shes gone, now leave me be, I must pray. Mooka is waiting. Begone little one!" I feel a swoosh of wind and manage to slide out of the way, letting go of Capnirs outfit, I spin my feet. His attempt at hitting me failed. I decide its best to let him be, the matter most important right now was figuring out what he meant, but I knew now I would have to do so on my own. I run in the opposite direction, as fast as I can. I knew the general location my mom usually worked at, but not much in way of specifics. I never interrupted her, other than when I was a lot younger. I begin to huff, my breath slowing as my pace quickens. My feet begin to ache as cuts open up upon them. Twigs and rocks bounce off of my soles as I run faster and faster. I don't even know where I'm going, I just need to see my mom, I need to be with her. I'm so focused on this that I don't even notice the entire lack of any villagers around me. They were all with the Elder. Except one person other than me. It was my mom. Upon a clearing, near one of the farms, I find my mother. Benurvah, my kind, benevolent, loving mother. The one who had taught me everything, who took care of me and loved me no matter what the situation was. The only other human left in my life. I screech to a halt, I want to scream but nothing comes out.
I didn't even have to examine her body to know that she was dead. I could presume she died of exhaustion and a mix of dehydration/famine. I feel as if the entire world has crashed atop me, I can't move or speak. Eventually, after what feels like eternities, the world gives me mercy. My feet move again, I catch my breath, and hurry to my moms side. I cradle her in my arms the way she did me all these years. I hold her tight and kiss her on her forehead. My mother smiles, or at least, I swear I see her smile. Her body is cold, the warmth that she gave me over the years no longer there, as if it never existed at all. But I knew my mom, I knew how much she loved me, and I knew her warmth was real. Even now, despite her coldness, I still feel it. I hug her as tightly as possible. Hours have passed, but I know its time to say goodbye. I feel like crying but nothing comes out. Maybe this was a good thing, I know my mom wouldn't want me to be sad over her leaving. She would want me to be strong like her. I manage to bury my mother myself. I find a pretty clearing nearby, a bit further through the trees. I place a lump of stone near her burial site along with a few flowers, and, upon gathering a chunk of ash, I begin writing. Here Lies Benurvah, Mother of Micah, may she always be loved. Or so this is what I wanted it to say. I had no idea if what I was writing actually meant anything, but the sentiment was there. I steel myself and begin my way back to the village.
When I make it back to my hut, OUR hut, my strength escapes me. I curl up into a ball and begin to cry. A few days pass by, Ive eaten barely anything and the lack of water is getting to me. I stand up, stumbling out of the hut. I catch my footing and examine the village. It was empty, as was custom now. I expected that, but it felt even more empty now that my mother and Jumbi were gone. I felt empty. My body was a shell now, any energy I had was sucked away and left this world with Jumbi and my mother. I know what must be done now. I make my way towards Mooka. I enter her hut and look around. The 8 villagers left (excluding me and the elder Mooka) were all praying, bowing before our "great" elder. In all of my fourteen years of life, this was maybe my third time seeing her. She was wrinkly and old, as expected of an elder. Her eyes were closed, her mouth refusing to form any sort of smile. She was hunched over in the far back of the large hut. I begin walking towards her, and a disgustingly familiar voice pipes up. "Finally found your way have you?" It was Capnir. The smelly old man who made light of my mothers death. Upon other things I didn't usually feel, I didn't usually feel like committing acts of violence. However, now was different. If only I had the energy, I would hit Capnir over and over with everything I have, but what I had was nothing.
I ignore his words and keep walking. As I walk I spot Hepnu and her mother, praying like the rest of them. I stop in front of the elder and gaze down at her. Unlike the blinded villagers surrounding me, what I saw was a regular human. There was nothing special about her. But I was desperate, and if I had anything at all to potentially free me from this pain, I wanted to know what it was. I open my mouth to speak but am stopped. Mooka begins to speak. "Your mother wasn't meant to die, and neither was Jumbi. Their deaths were too soon. The gods cry out for you Micah." Her voice is soft and caring, her eyes still sealed shut. I'm taken aback. All these years I had assumed it was all a facade, that the elder was yet the same as the rest of us. I bow and begin praying, to what, I have no idea. Mooka continues to speak. "If you joins us and pray, salvation will come, but I see you have already realized this." She says see, but with opening an eye of mine again I see that hers are still closed. I still don't fully believe all of this, its a lot to suddenly taken in, but I'm exhausted and tired of it all so I give in.
Somewhere down the line of tragedies I lost track of the days and time in the filth upon the ground. There was still no rain. My fellow villagers who I still felt nothing towards were dropping like flies, until there were but four of us, five if you include Mooka. Hepnu had left the village with her mother in hopes of finding salvation, long ago now. My eyes show no sign of emotion anymore. Underneath them dark circles make rest. How I have lived this long I have no idea, and neither does my body. I have barely eaten or drank anything in what feels like ions. The memories of my mother and Jumbi are faded, but not forgotten. Ive made it to the age of 15, but age meant nothing now. I make my way to Mooka's hut and prepare to pray. Before I can, I'm taken aback by the three other villagers left, ironically, I knew none of their names. They are all gathered around Mooka, Mooka is dead. I assumed she had died of old age. I never saw her eat or drink, and I wondered how she herself lasted as long as she did. It was as if she really was a special deity of some sort. The villagers turn to me. I exit the hut and they follow, and we all look up at the sky. The sky was as dark as it had ever been. There was no sign of sun, but no sign of night either, it was as if we were all engulfed in a never-ending darkness, one that would stay with us for eternity to come.
The villagers behind me drop to their knees. They begin crying and praying with all of their being. I can hear them, but I don't look. Instead I stare up at the sky. I stare and I stare. I stare, and I stare, and I stare some more. I continue to stare, all I can do is stare. I stare, until I feel a drop on my face. A large shadowy being approaches me from the sky, as the villagers behind me stare at me with sudden expressions of malice and lust. For my last moment of being, I can see my mother and Jumbi ahead of me, smiling with their hands held out. The Rain Giver opens its wide mouth, revealing its teeth, it engulfs me whole, and I am no-more.
FIN
I dart towards Capnir and grip his cloth with all my might. "I said what the hell do you mean? Wheres my mother? Wheres Benurvah?" My voice is frantic and full of panic. "I told you shes gone, now leave me be, I must pray. Mooka is waiting. Begone little one!" I feel a swoosh of wind and manage to slide out of the way, letting go of Capnirs outfit, I spin my feet. His attempt at hitting me failed. I decide its best to let him be, the matter most important right now was figuring out what he meant, but I knew now I would have to do so on my own. I run in the opposite direction, as fast as I can. I knew the general location my mom usually worked at, but not much in way of specifics. I never interrupted her, other than when I was a lot younger. I begin to huff, my breath slowing as my pace quickens. My feet begin to ache as cuts open up upon them. Twigs and rocks bounce off of my soles as I run faster and faster. I don't even know where I'm going, I just need to see my mom, I need to be with her. I'm so focused on this that I don't even notice the entire lack of any villagers around me. They were all with the Elder. Except one person other than me. It was my mom. Upon a clearing, near one of the farms, I find my mother. Benurvah, my kind, benevolent, loving mother. The one who had taught me everything, who took care of me and loved me no matter what the situation was. The only other human left in my life. I screech to a halt, I want to scream but nothing comes out.
I didn't even have to examine her body to know that she was dead. I could presume she died of exhaustion and a mix of dehydration/famine. I feel as if the entire world has crashed atop me, I can't move or speak. Eventually, after what feels like eternities, the world gives me mercy. My feet move again, I catch my breath, and hurry to my moms side. I cradle her in my arms the way she did me all these years. I hold her tight and kiss her on her forehead. My mother smiles, or at least, I swear I see her smile. Her body is cold, the warmth that she gave me over the years no longer there, as if it never existed at all. But I knew my mom, I knew how much she loved me, and I knew her warmth was real. Even now, despite her coldness, I still feel it. I hug her as tightly as possible. Hours have passed, but I know its time to say goodbye. I feel like crying but nothing comes out. Maybe this was a good thing, I know my mom wouldn't want me to be sad over her leaving. She would want me to be strong like her. I manage to bury my mother myself. I find a pretty clearing nearby, a bit further through the trees. I place a lump of stone near her burial site along with a few flowers, and, upon gathering a chunk of ash, I begin writing. Here Lies Benurvah, Mother of Micah, may she always be loved. Or so this is what I wanted it to say. I had no idea if what I was writing actually meant anything, but the sentiment was there. I steel myself and begin my way back to the village.
When I make it back to my hut, OUR hut, my strength escapes me. I curl up into a ball and begin to cry. A few days pass by, Ive eaten barely anything and the lack of water is getting to me. I stand up, stumbling out of the hut. I catch my footing and examine the village. It was empty, as was custom now. I expected that, but it felt even more empty now that my mother and Jumbi were gone. I felt empty. My body was a shell now, any energy I had was sucked away and left this world with Jumbi and my mother. I know what must be done now. I make my way towards Mooka. I enter her hut and look around. The 8 villagers left (excluding me and the elder Mooka) were all praying, bowing before our "great" elder. In all of my fourteen years of life, this was maybe my third time seeing her. She was wrinkly and old, as expected of an elder. Her eyes were closed, her mouth refusing to form any sort of smile. She was hunched over in the far back of the large hut. I begin walking towards her, and a disgustingly familiar voice pipes up. "Finally found your way have you?" It was Capnir. The smelly old man who made light of my mothers death. Upon other things I didn't usually feel, I didn't usually feel like committing acts of violence. However, now was different. If only I had the energy, I would hit Capnir over and over with everything I have, but what I had was nothing.
I ignore his words and keep walking. As I walk I spot Hepnu and her mother, praying like the rest of them. I stop in front of the elder and gaze down at her. Unlike the blinded villagers surrounding me, what I saw was a regular human. There was nothing special about her. But I was desperate, and if I had anything at all to potentially free me from this pain, I wanted to know what it was. I open my mouth to speak but am stopped. Mooka begins to speak. "Your mother wasn't meant to die, and neither was Jumbi. Their deaths were too soon. The gods cry out for you Micah." Her voice is soft and caring, her eyes still sealed shut. I'm taken aback. All these years I had assumed it was all a facade, that the elder was yet the same as the rest of us. I bow and begin praying, to what, I have no idea. Mooka continues to speak. "If you joins us and pray, salvation will come, but I see you have already realized this." She says see, but with opening an eye of mine again I see that hers are still closed. I still don't fully believe all of this, its a lot to suddenly taken in, but I'm exhausted and tired of it all so I give in.
Somewhere down the line of tragedies I lost track of the days and time in the filth upon the ground. There was still no rain. My fellow villagers who I still felt nothing towards were dropping like flies, until there were but four of us, five if you include Mooka. Hepnu had left the village with her mother in hopes of finding salvation, long ago now. My eyes show no sign of emotion anymore. Underneath them dark circles make rest. How I have lived this long I have no idea, and neither does my body. I have barely eaten or drank anything in what feels like ions. The memories of my mother and Jumbi are faded, but not forgotten. Ive made it to the age of 15, but age meant nothing now. I make my way to Mooka's hut and prepare to pray. Before I can, I'm taken aback by the three other villagers left, ironically, I knew none of their names. They are all gathered around Mooka, Mooka is dead. I assumed she had died of old age. I never saw her eat or drink, and I wondered how she herself lasted as long as she did. It was as if she really was a special deity of some sort. The villagers turn to me. I exit the hut and they follow, and we all look up at the sky. The sky was as dark as it had ever been. There was no sign of sun, but no sign of night either, it was as if we were all engulfed in a never-ending darkness, one that would stay with us for eternity to come.
The villagers behind me drop to their knees. They begin crying and praying with all of their being. I can hear them, but I don't look. Instead I stare up at the sky. I stare and I stare. I stare, and I stare, and I stare some more. I continue to stare, all I can do is stare. I stare, until I feel a drop on my face. A large shadowy being approaches me from the sky, as the villagers behind me stare at me with sudden expressions of malice and lust. For my last moment of being, I can see my mother and Jumbi ahead of me, smiling with their hands held out. The Rain Giver opens its wide mouth, revealing its teeth, it engulfs me whole, and I am no-more.
FIN
