Where Have You Been, Where are You Going

It was a bright sunny Sunday afternoon. The kind that one would spend outside reading and drinking tea. Instead I was to be spending it inside a cool air conditioned room with my new friend Connie. Recently Connie escaped her would be kidnapper Arnold. I met her at her home, as she refused to leave her home since the kidnapping. Her parents had reported her missing as soon as they returned home. The next afternoon a police officer recognized her from a missing poster that had been around the area. She was rescued and her would be kidnappers where place in jail and were awaiting trial.

Entering the home I looked around to as Connie’s mother announces me to the girl. The bright sunny day doesn’t reach the home and the air is frigid and tense. I am met by June Connie’s older sister who is around the same age as me. She tells me about her sister and how they use to be the polar opposites.

“My sister always went to hang with friends, they seemed to find it like a game to get the boy’s to notice them. It seems that every girl her age believes to know everything, but doesn’t understand there are things and people that can hurt them.”

“Its like when Alice realizes that Wonderland isn’t such the fantastic place like she believes it to be.” I spoke thinking of the best parallel I can. Throughout time there seemed to be so many stories like this, people praying on the innocents of the youth.

Soon enough a fragile girl entered the room. The girl I had seen in pictures and heard about from June wasn’t visible in the girl in front of me. All I could see was the broken shell that once was this girl.

“Hello there Connie, my name is Diana Cheshire I’m so glad to finally meet you.” I gave the girl a small smile and tried to make her relax. I didn’t want to overstep any boundaries or bring up anything that might frighten her. “Would you mind if I ask you a few questions, or would you just like to talk?”

The girl hesitated for a moment, this once social butterfly had wrapped herself in a cocoon. Harsh reality had crushed her under its weight and she couldn’t find the light. “Talking would be nice.”

“Mkay then what would you like to talk about?” I said with a small smile as her mother went to make us tea. Her sister stayed beside the girl for support and she probably didn’t want to stay in a room with someone so unfamiliar to her.

“What exactly are you?” She asked looking straight at me for the first time. Smiling softly at the girl as I pulled out the lanyard that had my information on it. I handed it to her for her to examine it.

“I’m a freelance journalist. I write stories and articles, then different newspapers and magazines publish them.” The girl nodded, but it seemed she refused to relax at all. I didn't want to force her to speak, but I still needed something.

“So....did you come to write my story?”

“If you will let me...then yes.”

“Well...what do you want to know?”

“Tell me what really happened Sunday afternoon?”

“I was letting my hair dry in the sun when I heard someone come to the door...” She stopped for a moment not sure if she wanted to retell the story again. It must have been painful for her, to have your entire world, everything you know to be shattered. Growing up your home is a safe haven, nothing there is suppose to harm you. That was shattered for Connie, I could see it in her that this place would never be 'safe' again.

“Why don’t you tell me how this has changed you?” The question startled her and it seemed she was confused. “If you're uncomfortable telling the story, maybe tell how you feel about it.”

“I use to go out with my friends...it seemed like a game back then. Like if a boy noticed you that equaled winning. Never did we say it was a game, but know it looks that way. Everything use to be exciting and I couldn’t wait to grow up, but now...I’m scared.” Right then and there was when I saw the glass shatter. The little butterfly was trying so hard to wrap herself back in her cocoon for her wings had several holes, but it wasn’t possible. “These guys had been watching me for months and I never knew. I was the pawn in their sick game.”

As tragic as Connie’s story is...it isn't uncommon. Girls and boys get taken all the time, their childhood innocence is stolen. It’s not fair, but its something that is hard to stop. Once something like this is broken it can’t be fixed. Connie will hopefully one day get past this terrifying experience, but she’ll never be a child again. We could call her lucky, how she got out of this alive and for the most part unharmed. There is nothing lucky about what has happened to this girl, she was taken from her home and all the familiar things there. Now she’s in a completely different world with a completely different view. Sure nothing has really changed, but Connie has.

The time of silly games and giggling gossip has changed into suspicion and awareness. The rainbow world that once look so fascinating is now fill with something more terrifying than monsters. These monsters are what we call the ‘bad guys’, but to them there is nothing wrong with what they do. That’s what makes it so terrifying and sick. There is not a bright light or a happy ending to this story. As much as we wish for a happy ending there is not one.

The Truth of the Lottery

During my trip down the rabbit hole, I came across the most curious little town. At first it seemed very normal and average. Everyone had their normal lives and went about them in an old fashion way. Nothing ever seemed to changed, and they enjoyed it that way. They invited me to their own annual event, something they called ‘The Lottery’. At first I was thrilled at the idea!  I had never attended just a peculiar event before...but my eagerness and excitement were disgustingly misplaced.

When entering a different society, one should always be open minded. During this trip I had to remind myself of this. Unlike the lotteries all of you are familiar with, you know where the winner gets an amazing prize. In this town the prize isn't at all amazing, whoever ‘wins’ is stoned to death by their friends and family. No One protests, or objects, they all confirmed while I stood there in horror.

After it was all said and done these people went on with their lives. There seemed to be no mourning, and the families just went home without another word. This ‘Lottery’ easily earned a spot in my top ten oddest concepts. When the event ended I really wanted to just leave, but sometimes we have to do things that are difficult for us. I did this for you all, so that no one will hopefully ever attempt this again. So let us try and learn from these people even if its just to understand them.

Digging through dead lead after dead lead I still hunted for answers. No one could remember the purpose for this horrific game. That’s all it was to them...a children’s game. Everyone was happy as long as it wasn't them being stoned to death. Children had eagerly gathered stones, and no one ever spoke against what was happening. Mr Warner informed me that the lottery separated this town from the barbarians.

Separates them from the barbarians...I have to be honest, it made my stomach turn. Still these people lived through it every year, apparently for generations. It was embedded into their mind that this was okay. Mr. Summer’s took the time to explain to me what he knew. This tradition had a long history, and with anything historical, we knew things get changed and things fade. It’s kinda like that game you play when you’re a kid, the one where you get in a circle and whisper a word or phrase to each other then the last person says it out loud. Its usually gibberish or something of the nonsense nature. Well that’s what we have here.

Let us take a moment to look at some facts before we cast a verdict. (Remember the Queen of Hearts is the only one allowed to judge without all the facts).

1) Every year this town chooses one person to be stoned.
2) No on is upset over stoned someone, unless they are the one being stoned.
3) Only two parts about this ritual are remembered, the black box they draw from and     

the stoning. Now they use to put chips of wood to draw, but now they use paper.

4) These people are completely okay with it, they fully accept this.

I can’t say if what they are doing is right or wrong. To them it is a tradition, and traditions are something people don’t let go of easily. It’s almost like a safety net for them, once a year they have this person to take all their anger and frustration out on. Maybe in the old days this was a human sacrifice to appease the gods of old. Say their was a bad crop, well all they had to do was pick someone to kill off, and they all participate to appease this god...so no one speaks out to so they don’t see the god’s wrath. On another note, maybe this is a ritual to forgive the town of it’s sins. For those of you who remember my article on the Hunger Games I spoke about how they have a ‘reaping’. The Hunger Games were an object to instill fear into the districts to conform, claiming that the games were nothing more than a way to forgive the districts from rebelling a generation ago.

In this town these people conform in a very similar matter. They attack this person they once knew, as a neighbor, a friend, a mother, a sibling, a human being. In a split second all of that is taken from the winner. There is no good-bye or I’m sorry, just go and get your stones and lets get this over with.

So in final I still do not know what to think of these people. We will leave this topic on this note, and maybe one day we can come back with the answers. In light of this grim event stay true my lovely readers, and I shall see you all soon.