Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 - Advanced)
Topic: Confused (08/16/07)
TITLE: Lost Transmission #4357
By Sara Harricharan
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Lost Transmission from Syrius Bea
File # 4357
The wind was warm this morning. Ethan lay sleeping at my feet, his little mouth curved into a smile.
It was so rare to see emotion on his face, I treasured the moment, not realizing that something would go terribly amiss in the next few hours.
<i>My beautiful, precious child! I wish nothing but happiness for you. </i>Tears blur my vision, fading when I shake my head. There is no time for tears now.
I am the only thing keeping him from a life of forced horrors. A life I am living for him, lest he be enslaved before of age to make The Choice. I know he will choose as I have, given the chance. I must give him that chance.
My resolve strengthens as I stare at his face, long, dark lashes against white marble skin.
We have been running so long.
Tentatively I reach over, smoothing wrinkles from his forehead. He trembles at my touch, breaking my heart in two.
Drawing back, I reach for the colored scarf tied around my head. Cut from the Fabric of Peace, it allows me one small pleasure, to see his eyes.
Gathering him in my arms, I press his face into my shoulder to muffle the screams I know will follow.
He begins to struggle almost instantly, flailing about with arms and legs, screaming with every ounce of his five-year-old lungs. My frantic whispers do little to hush him.
“Ethan! Wake up, ‘tis only a bad dream.” I shake him gently. “Shhh! It’s only a nightmare, love.” A loud whimper replaces the next scream as he burrows into my shoulder for comfort.
His sobs turn to quiet sniffles. Squinting through the blindfold, I see his dark head move as his cherubic face turns upwards.
There is nothing more heart-wrenching than the swirling blue pools that stare up at me in place of his eyes.
Ethan is a chaos child.
He is blind.
His eyes are a stranger’s nightmare. Looking into them will have you wishing for death. Such is the viciousness of this cursed gift. Our planet would win wars with an army of chaos children; our enemies would be terrified in their tracks.
I have refused every imaginable bribe the mind can conceive, surviving unspeakable moments of hate and torture for this miracle child.
From the day of his birth, I have been shadowed by the King’s guards. Seven months ago they grew increasingly aggressive.
Moments after I quieted Ethan, a horn sounded in the distance. I was on my feet and running before I realized it.
I didn’t run fast enough.
The sound of stun rifles charging is the last thing I remember before blackness claimed me.
My jailer was kind enough to offer a blank holo vid if I wished to preserve some memory of any sort. He says Ethan will be taken and I will be killed if I do not surrender.
<i>Dear Father, I beg of you not to take the child you have only just given me!</i>
My selfish prayer is all I have time for as guards come to escort us to the throne room.
Miraculously, Ethan is still in my arms and my scarf has been tied to my wrist.
The King’s demands fall deaf ears as a plan forms in the depths of my being.
This palace is a wealth of secrets.
I pinch Ethan to wake him, keeping his head in my neck. Taking his right hand, I press it to my check willing him to read my thoughts.
<i>Run and hide when I put you down.</i>
His fingers twitch and I know he has gotten the message.
The click of charging weapons is my starting point.
“Ethan, look at me!” I pull away. “Please. Look at me.”
Identical pools of swirling blue lock onto my face, lifting to my eyes. I force myself to bend and gently set him down on his feet.
Pain explodes in my head, radiating through every fiber of my being. The ground begins to shake as raw energy crackles at my fingertips.
Chaos erupts in its purest form, drawing on my life force.
<i>I love you, Ethan.<i/>
<b>File interrupted. 43% corrupted.
End Transmission. </b></i>
Chaos Child-a super-powered kid with the ability to destroy the “ordinary” with the swirling colored pools they have instead of eyes. All chaos children are blind.
Fabric Of Peace-cloth mentally woven while in a state of mindfulness, harmony and prayer.
The Choice-Christianity is classified as religion and therefore all religious subjects are protected by the law. Every child must be at least six years old to chose on their own.
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