The pass-up 3
THE PASS-UP
Rony Brown
THE PIPER AT HIS PIPES
When one is able to see another’s heart break and see anguish
in this same person’s eyes, it feels as though the one is invading the other’s
privacy. It is human nature to hide the truth when it hurts, and that is exactly
what Dede tried to do.
But even as the all-knowing sage, I do not how far reaching
one’s emotions and feelings can be. I do not know the depths of anguish Dede
feels every time she has to face the evils of her pass-up.
So after a heated discussion, I hereby give the authorship
to the real author.
***
I’m Dede. The little sage gave me charge over writing my own
story. I guess it is because she does not like the discovery that a Siitian,
that is her own self, (How did she put it?) sheds water.
So, I better start from the pronunciation of my pass-up.
Who
would have ever thought that a pass up could mean something negative? Because after the
chief said those words, I have been prodded and tossed about as though I were a
piece of property, worse, I have been treated like a piece of second-hand
clothing that has found itself on a Ghanaian market.
But that is all what a pass-up is about. I am
now a piece of property being tossed around for the Siitian elite to decide if
they want me. I have been paid for, but by rejecting the glass slipper, I am now
a piece of nobody’s property.
So far, I have been to ten regions and even to some far away
countries in this dimension. I have survived food deprivation (Which is not
such a bad thing considering the kind of food that they have here. But I bet
this dimension is a vegetarian’s dream.), water deprivation, some torture, even
a horrid version of bug infestation, and mosquito feasting on my blood.
But what I have not been able to stand is the loneliness. I
have not been able to wrap my head around how it can suddenly shift from
being surrounded by friends to being so alone.
Even though the sage encourages me with her wise words, I do
not think there is hope. She says every place I go does not remain the same.
She thinks I am leading some sort of revival. But it sure doesn’t feel that
way.
Thankfully, I think the protoctists are taking over my blood
and I am not so sure I will survive another day. Today may as well be my last
dance.
I can hear the footsteps of the guard approaching. I am
surely going to receive some slaps again. She shoves me up and throws me into the
bars of the cage.
“You smell of death.” She says menacingly and drags me with
her. About the smell ,I think she means the urine, but who cares. At least I know
I will join my friends and family in the afterlife. Hopefully all dimensions
have the same afterlife.
I step out of the cage and step down the carriage. Wow! This
palace is big. Must be one of the biggies. Those ones are always the worst.
I catch the sight of the farmers far off. I call out to them
and wave gingerly. They wave back and walk towards me. But with a sharp blow
from the guard everything blurs and before I know it, I am inside the palace.
There is this boy sitting in the corner of what I will call a
grand ball room. He is playing his pipes.
(I catch the sage jumping up and down with the corner of my
eye. What is wrong with the crazy sage this time?)
But now I just don’t care. My feet find themselves moving on
their own accord to the sound. It is beautiful. I slow dance to its soothing
vibe. What a nice way to die.
And just when I think I am going to crumble to the floor,
I feel some strong arms around me then strength surges through me. I open my
eyes to the sight of a beautiful man. No, not a handsome man; a beautiful man.
I look at the corner and the boy is not there anymore.
Wait, what is happening?
Then in the most sonorous voice he says, “Thank you. You
made me grow up.”
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