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Scribe
Join Date: Aug 2004
Posts: 61
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To Deam Of The Sky
It's actually sort of old, written for an old contest on another site. I won, if you were wodnering. Please enjoy, and I'd love some feedback, even if the story is old.
To Dream of the Sky
The sun was hidden behind the clouds as a crackle of thunder filled the sky. It was a dark afternoon, and the monstrous city of Kazhil-Duram was covered in thick black smog, as always. The hundreds of people walking monotonously along the congested streets didn't even notice as the sky suddenly lit up with flashes of lightning. They didn?t make any movements when the rumble of thunder buffeted their ears. Things were like this every day in Kazhil-Duram.
The city was the capitol of the world, ever since the Messiah had appeared and died fourteen years ago. The world was thrown into an era of near-total darkness, and cities and towns everywhere melded together in the chaos, creating colossal city-nations hundreds of miles wide. Kazhil-Duram was the largest, cleanest, safest and wealthiest of these city-nations, and it stood where there was once a border between two ancient countries: Iraq and Saudi Arabia.
Kajhak weaved in and out of the automatons that walked the streets, heading toward his home only a few blocks away. It was a small apartment, on the fifty-third floor of a giant apartment tower. His mother, three brothers, and grandmother waited for him in the two-room dwelling. He gripped the large loaf of bread close to his body and pressed forward, being careful to dodge the people without touching them.
He had done it hundreds of times, gone from his home to the closest bread market and back, without being noticed. He was in tremendous physical shape, and it was no problem for him to make his way through the sea of people without being detected. The streets were too crowded for them to hear that he was there with them, and he slipped by without touching a single one. He always made it, completely unnoticed.
He always felt a quick pang of guilt when he made it back to his apartment; he had a divine gift, and he used it to steal bread for his family. Unlike nearly everybody else in the world, Kajhak could see.
He threw open the door to his building and stepped inside. It was dimly-lit, nearly pitch black, but he was used to it, as all buildings were kept as dark. The blind masses had no need for lighting. The only lights that still existed in the world were the natural ones: lightning bolts from the sky that constantly bombarded the city. Kajhak ran up three long flights of stairs and got to his apartment, where he rushed in. His grandmother and youngest brother, Sidaen, awaited him.
Neither looked up at him, but turned their heads so their ears pointed at him. It was the way things were now that eyes were no longer used by the people; they saw through sound.
"Kajhak!" Sidaen squealed gleefully. He hopped up and ran to his brother. "Have you the bread?"
"Yes," Kajhak said, handing the loaf to the six-year-old. Sidaen grabbed the cold, hard food and rushed into the other room, where Kajhak assumed the rest of his family was. Kajhak touched his grandmother lightly on the forehead with his bend index finger, a sign of respectful greeting, and followed his younger brother.
His mother and other two brothers were seated around the circular table. They both cocked their ears towards him when he entered. Sidaen took a seat next to their mother, and Kajhak walked over to stand behind him. They placed the bread on the table, and Kajhak was given a large knife to cut it into several pieces. The bread was hard, cold, and dirty, but it was food, and they were hungry. They ate in silence for nearly an hour, nibbling very slowly at the bread. At some time during the meal, the grandmother had come in and joined them.
Finally, they sat back in their creaky chairs, and Kajhak sat on the floor against the wall. There weren?t enough chairs for him, but he didn?t mind not sitting with the others. He was always excluded for his ability, and had grown to accept and expect it. He wasn?t shunned by the masses, but rather he was revered by them. Still, though, he was separated. But Kajhak had no problem with that. The majority of people were mindless drones, driven only by their monotonous work in mills and factories, making supplies that many of them had never even considered a use for. Kajhak was above all that. Even though he used his sight for theft and mischief, he was above the rest.
That night, It was Kajhak's turn to have the couch to sleep on. Everyone else slept on the floor around him. He fell asleep staring at the ceiling and wondering what the dreams of the blind looked like. When he awoke, he still didn?t have an answer.
His mother and brothers left the apartment early, as usual, to join the flow of other automatons and head for work in the factories. His grandmother was too old for work, and it was Kajhak's job to stay home and care for her during the days. It was a payday that day, so Kajhak didn't have to go out and steal dinner. When his mother and brothers arrived home, however, they didn?t have dinner with them; Kajhak instead saw a tall, pale man with dark hair and wearing an even darker suit.
"Hello," the man said in a low voice, coming straight for Kajhak and extending a hand. Immediately the gifted boy could realize that this man could see as well. His eyes focused on Kajhak?s when he spoke, and they weren?t fogged over like those of everybody else. He didn?t walk with his head slightly angled for his ear to catch sounds, but rather with his face forward, alert with strong eyes. Just like Kajhak.
Kajhak shook the man?s hand and replied with a weak "hello". The man smiled. It looked like a greedy and malevolent expression. This man had worked only with the blind before. He didn?t realize that Kajhak would be able to read his face. Kajhak stood up and backed away. His family had gone into the other room, to leave him alone with the visitor.
"Who?who are you?" Kajhak stammered.
"Call me Mr. Khan," he said simply and in a low, demanding voice.
"What do you want?" Kajhak felt his back against the wall.
"You can see, Kajhak. You are like me. We are special, boy. We are elite. We have powers. To the people," he spread out his arms, "we are gods!"
"No!? Kajhak yelled, surprising himself. ?We are people like them! Just different!"
"You know that's not true, Kajhak," Kahn replied sternly. "We have powers that they cannot begin to imagine. Our sight, our faces without a veil of darkness? We are everything they wish they could be."
"What do you want from me?"
"I want your sight." Kahn said. "I will not have you waste your divinity on theft. Give me your eyes!"
"What!? Never!" Kajhak yelled, and ran around the man. Kahn reached for him, but the nimble boy dodged and flew out the door. Kahn took the chase after him, and soon they were out in the streets, with the flowing sea of the sightless, mindless people.
Kajhak looked up at the sky. It was dark, and a few bright stars were visible through the thick brown and gray clouds. A flash of lightning went off in the distance. He heard Kahn come out of the building and tore off down the street, moving with the current of people. Kajhak ran, dodging and avoiding the people. He could hear Kahn?s heavy footsteps behind him as the man gained on him. Kajhak was fast, but Kahn was faster. The boy, however, had the experience of running through the people. He weaved in and out of them with delicate grace and speed, and Kahn slowly began to fall behind. After Kahn?s footsteps dies out behind him, Kajhak ran for twenty minutes more and stopped in front of a huge metal mill, panting. He leaned against a wall, away from the crowds.
He looked up again into the sky. A sudden thought appeared in his mind: it didn't matter what the dreams of the blind were like, it just mattered that they did dream, and what they dreamed of. Kajhak smiled weakly at the dark clouds. "They probably dream of what the sky might look like," he whispered, and slid down on the ground.
* * *
He didn't realize he had been sleeping. He woke up with strong hands holding him down to the ground. He opened his eyes to see the sneering face of Kahn inches from his own. Kajhak screamed loudly, and saw people forming a circle around the two of them, with their ears pointed toward the struggle.
Kajhak called for help, screamed for the people to do something, but they didn't. Kahn's grip was strong and the boy couldn't move under him. Kajhak's eyes opened wider in fright as he saw Kahn's fingers come closer and closer. He screamed even louder as incredible pain racked through him. He felt Kahn's cold fingers digging deep into his eye sockets, reaching for the back of his eyeballs. He could faintly feel blood from his face washing all over him. His screams were dulled by his pain and terror. It seemed like it went on forever. One eye, and ten the other. Finally, he felt Kahn let go.
Kajhak curled up, his face mutilated beyond repair. He would have cried, but he could not make tears. The pain was unbearable. He heard Kahn's deep voice say something, and then heard his footsteps turn and walk away. A minute later, the feet of hundreds trampled on their way about their daily business, like always. Kajhak lay still for over an hour, fighting the pain and sorrow. Finally, he uncurled himself and raised his face to the heavens.
"No?"
Now he would know how blind people dream. Now he would picture the sky like them in his dreams. Now he was one of them.
Kajhak never saw the sky again.
__________________
Evega Karr
Email evegak@gmail.com
MSN: evega@dev-empire.net
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