|When He Forgets the Island
Author: The Legend of Derpy PM
This young child is the last villager alive on the island, her mother departed and the villagers gone. God watches her with tears in his eyes; it is all his fault. The island will remain evermore a death trap, leading even the youngest to their eventual deaths... This is what happens when you forget to check in on your villagers. Rated T for death. Oneshot.Rated: Fiction T - English - Hurt/Comfort/Spiritual - Words: 867 - Reviews: 23 - Favs: 13 - Follows: 1 - Published: 06-28-12 - Status: Complete - id: 8266835
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
She was the only living soul amongst the sea of carcasses and death, the decaying smell of it all humbling the small girl and tearing her down to her knees. Sand greeted her fair skin rudely as she fell, tearing at what little skin covered her body with its sharp shells and grains of various sizes. Mama used to bandage the girl's every bruise with fresh plants and funny smelling paste, the herbal treatment of the village's local doctor. Yet no such mother ran to the child, and as a matter of fact, no such villagers were in motion on the island. Their presence was there, to be sure.
No one said that they still clung onto life, however.
The child could not of surpassed the age of nine, yet her eyes had witnessed things a child so young should never be exposed to. The death of her people surrounded her like a cloak, and the girl shivered, sending locks of her poofy brown hair fluttering down into her face. Her place in an unmerciful heaven was assured, for such a small girl could not possible survive a few days with an absence of adult presence and proper living establishments. Had the men of the village built even one sturdy hut prior to their deaths? No, they had not, for it had only been yet three days since the people's arrival to this godforsaken island and the time to build a hut for the peoples had not been in the books. They had not even learned how to spark a simple fire. Yes, an unmerciful heaven awaited the child, bless her heart. Unmerciful, I say, solely for the fate it had bestowed upon these people. As you know or, at the very least, must of inferred, no kind and loving God would of destroyed this growing village within a matter of days. No, perhaps it was the fact that these people's God had turned his back on them, not gifting them with the advanced knowledge and technology needed to survive on the island. Was there a God? Was His almighty judgment unbalanced? Or did he merely forget of the people he had so lovingly created? The girl pondered these questions as best a young child could, but her attention soon fell on the corpse in front of her exposed knees.
The body of a slender woman stretched out its arms and seemed to caress the tips of the girl's dress, who was almost eye level with the body on her knees. This particular corpse bore much resemblance to the girl, her wavy chocolate hair matching the girls exactly, save for the two woman's different hair lengths (the child's short, the mother's long). This body was truly a temple, a jewel, and but for the stench of death that rose from her, one could of assumed she was merely sleeping. No, there was no doubt that it was the hollow shell of the unfortunate's mother.
The child wept as she wrapped her fingers around her mother's hand, weaving her fingers through clumps of the woman's hair with her free hand. Salty tears fell into the sand, creating drops of damp grains to stand out clearly amongst the yellowish sand of the beach. She would not leave this woman until the end, the very end...
The child awaited death with patience and willingness.
Above the clouds, if one could rocket high up into the atmosphere, the sounds of rumbling thunder and rain would be heard. The God of the people was seen weeping silent tears, sending rain tumbling to the ground below. Oh, how he wanted to help the child! But even God must work within set rules and refrains, and there was nothing he could do but watch the child slowly decay. It was his fault, and as much as he did no wish to admit it, he knew the truth. "I forgot them." he simply stated to the passing clouds. "I forgot about my people, and their deaths will weigh heavily on my shoulders..." Focus of the heavenly being shifted back to the child, and the waterworks began to slowly power up in His eyes.
"I won't leave you, child." the God whispered, trembling. Even God can be overcome by powerful emotion. "I won't leave until the very end."
God always keeps his promises. As soon as the last bits of life seeped from the girl's body, God greeted the child at the doorway of heaven, mother in hand. And so, mother and daughter were united, the gates soon closed, and merriment from the villagers was heard across the kingdom of God, for the villagers were finally joined together in one place. Free from disease, strife, worry.
Freed from the chains of death.
The island lay forgotten in the middle of the ocean, patiently waiting for the next villagers to arrive. They always came. They always would...
AN: Let's face it. You've probably gotten that "Oops! You killed all your villagers" warning more times than you care to admit.
Proud to be the first to post in the Virtual Villagers section!