Ohani’s Story
I
stood by as the masked man knocked my mother to the ground. For that is what he
was, a man. He was too tall to be a dwarf, and didn’t have the grace of an elf.
The basket of flowers my mother and I had just collected together lay on the
ground, making a rainbow of color on the filthy floor. The man stood above my
mother and ripped open her blouse. When I realized what was happening I ran to
my mother’s side and began to beat my fists on the man’s leg. The man just
pushed me away with a careless shove and I tripped over a stone and fell to the
ground. I had heard of this before. Men attacking elf women, it was common.
There was something else, something I just couldn’t remember.
My
mother was pushed flat and the man sat on top of her. It wasn’t until I saw the
flash of silver that I remembered what happened afterward. My mother fought
against the man and almost was able to stand until she was pulled back down to
the ground. She turned her head and looked at me through her tangled hair and
mouthed, “Run!”
Tears
of fear for my mother’s safety poured down my cheeks as I turned and ran. I
stumbled into the old dirt road with my eyes closed and never stopped running.
I pushed past anyone who stood in front of me and picked myself back up
whenever I fell. Eventually I made my way to the lake where we had picked the
flowers. I collapsed in a patch of purple violets and pulled my legs to my
chest.
“Gone,” I
choked through tears, “Gone.”
* * *
I awoke
to feel rough hands grasping my arms. I tried to scream but found that I had
been gagged. I twisted and tried to catch a glimpse of the face of my captor,
but the person who held me pushed my head down and pulled a sack over me. The
sack smelled strongly of wheat and the rough material scraped my delicate skin
as the captor lifted me. I grunted as I was dropped in what seemed to be a cart
filled with straw. I felt the strong hands that had bound my wrists push straw
over my body. The strands pushed through the sack and poked at my face. Why?
I wondered, Why have these people taken me? Who attacked my mother? Is she
still alive? Where am I going? Do they want to kill me too?
I
curled up under the straw mat that had been pushed over me and let the tears
run freely. Just yesterday I laid in the arms of my mother, and now…
I
felt a hand land on the straw above me. “Don’t make a noise and you won’t be
harmed.”
The
voice was that of a man, rough and stern. It wasn’t the man who attacked my
mother, of that I was certain. I decided it would be best to listen to the man
so I bit my lip to keep from making any unintentional noise. An hour passed and
I was still curled beneath the straw. I now had cuts all over from the straw
and my face was stained with tears. I had almost begun to lose hope when I
heard muffled voices coming from above.
“There
have been strange people walking about.”
The
muffled voice of the man who captured me rang in my ears. Then another voice,
an unfamiliar one, answered.
“They
seem to be drawn here.”
I
heard my captor slide off the cart and whisper something to the other man. A
few moments later I felt the cart jolt and then stop again, and one of the men
reached his hand into the straw that covered me and grasped my arm. I let out a
short squeal then bit my tongue as I remembered that I was supposed to be
silent.
The
man lifted me and pulled me off the cart. My legs were weak from fear and the
man half dragged me toward a door. There was still some straw stuck on the sack
that covered my face and it scraped my skin and got stuck to my eyelashes. I
heard the heavy creak of an old door and felt the ground change from hard dirt
to worn wood. Warm laughter and conversation flowed toward me as I was pulled
through the door into what I believed to be an inn. The man who held me threw
me over his shoulder and my knees knocked against my face as I heard another
door open. I was moved into another room, one that was apparently empty. I slid
off the man’s shoulder onto the floor, twisting my arm behind my back. Suddenly
the rough sack was pulled out from under me and I landed on a hard, dirty
floor. I let my eyes adjust to the shadows and saw at least five
white-uniformed standing around me. They peered at me as I lay sprawled on the
ground.
“This
is all you could get? We wanted someone younger!”
One
of the uniformed men looked at my captor, who I could now see clearly. He wore
a simple leather tunic and had dark hair.
His face was streaked with dirt and his green eyes seemed cautious,
almost fearful.
“I
tried to get someone younger but they were all to well protected. She was just
lying out in a field, so either she ran away or was abandoned. Either way no
one will miss her.”
I
looked up at the man with the tunic, avoiding his eyes. “Where is my mother?” I
asked, choking down tears.
The
green eyed man looked at the white uniformed man who looked down at me with
gentile eyes.
“We
don’t know, but I promise you,” He kneeled down next to me, “if you behave, we
will bring her back to you.”
I
paused and nodded reluctantly. The man smiled and stood up again. He looked at
the green-eyed man and pulled a pouch out of one of his many pockets. He handed
him the pouch, which I concluded to be filled with gold coins. The green-eyed
man nodded, a frown drawn across his face, then headed out the door. One of the
other white uniformed men advanced toward me and took my hand. He helped me
stand and took me to a shadow-covered door. He pulled out a small, intricate
key and placed it in a lock. I heard the lock click and the door swung open. I
was temporarily blinded by a bright light that flowed from the room. Once my
eyes re-adjusted I looked around the white walled room. It was a small chamber
with several doors leading into more rooms. The walls were made of a material I
didn’t recognize, they weren’t made of wood or stone.
The
man who held my hand smiled at me and led me to a door on the left. He opened
the heavy door and brought me inside.
“This
is your new home,” He explained happily.
I
looked around the room. There was a small bed and various dolls spread across
the floor. There were no windows, which scared me. I had always grown up in the
forest, and now..
The
man let go of my hand and walked to the door. “This is where you will stay for
the night. Someone will be back later for food. Goodnight.”
The
man left the room and shut the door behind him. I heard the lock click as it
shut. I stared out the door for a few moments after the man left then sat down
on the floor and picked up a few dolls.
I
awoke to the sound of a door creaking open and sat up drowsily. I watched as
the door opened and a white uniformed man walked in, a tray in his hands. He
smiled at me and placed the tray at my feet. I looked at the food and winced.
There was a piece of hard bread and some kind of brown mush.
“I
know it doesn’t look appetizing, but it’s good for you.” The man commented as
he left, locking the door behind him. I waited for the man to leave before I
stuck my finger in the warm mush. After my finger was covered in the pasty
mixture I stuck it in my mouth. As soon as the taste struck my tongue I spit it
back out. I gagged for a minute then reached for the bread. It was cold and
stale but was still a welcome change from the paste. I finished the bread but
left the brown mush.
By
the time I had finished I looked at the heavy iron door, half waiting for my
mother to come through with a wonderful feast in her arms. I don’t know how
long I sat there. Every time I heard even the smallest of noises my hope rose
then fell again once the noise subsided. Eventually I climbed onto the soft bed,
one of the small dolls clasped in my hand. The rough cornhusk scratched against
my face, but I didn’t care. A few minutes later I fell asleep, the doll I named
Mommy pressed tight against my cheek.
* * *
The
next morning I was woken up by the creaking of the large heavy door. I sat up
and looked, wide eyed, at the man who entered. I rubbed my eyes and pushed the
sheets off my legs.
“Don’t
sorry, I’m just here to talk.” The man smiled at me and sat down on the bed
next to me. “So, what’s your name?”
I
sat crossed legged on the bed and looked at the man. He wore a white overcoat
with a pocked on the chest. There was a blue twig and paper with a metal string
binding sitting in the pocket. I could tell he wasn’t from town.
“My
name is Ohani. I’m from the Bakai village.”
The
man smiled gently at me and looked at the doll I held. “Well Ohani of the Bakai
village, do you like dolls?”
I
nodded as the man pulled out a small package. He pulled off the wrapping and
held a small cloth between his fingers.
“Your
arm is a little dirty, I just want to clean it.”
He
pulled up my sleeve and rubbed my arm with the wet cloth. I didn’t know why, my
arm wasn’t really that dirty. I watched him clean it with little interest.
“You
know,” The man began, “If you look at that spot on the wall you can see the
face of a doll.”
I
turned my head away from the man and looked at the spot on the wall where he
pointed. I was staring at it so hard I hardly felt the man grasp my arm. I
continued staring at the wall when I suddenly felt a sharp pain in my arm. I
whipped my head around to look at the man, who had one hand grasping my limb
and the other holding a needle in my arm. I whimpered and watched him pull the
needle back out. A small drop of blood protruded from the spot that the needle
emerged from. I whimpered again and lifted my arm to suck on the wound, but my
mouth was filled with a bitter taste from the liquid that the man cleaned my
arm with. I quickly pulled my arm away from my face and tried to spit out the
bitter taste. The man looked at me but I swatted away his arm and crawled away
from him. I pulled my legs against me when my vision started to go black. Soon
I lost all consciousness.
* * *
I
woke up again on the floor. The man was gone and there was a new tray of food
by the door. I sat up and looked around, then lie back down and put my hand on
my forehead. Pain shot through my back up to my head and I rubbed my scalp. I
decided to get up a little slower as I slowly lifted myself up and leaned
against the bed. Once my back touched the cold metal a burning sensation shot
through my back. I flinched and twisted my arm to find what caused me such
pain. As I ran my hand down my back I cried out in pain and pulled my hand
back. Blood trickled down from my fingertip, but there was no cut. My eyes
opened wide and I twisted to see the reflection of my back on the metal of the
bed. I gasped, the air leaving my lungs. I turned back around and tried to
scream, but fear overcame me. Along my back was a long slit, covered in blood
and puss. A thin black wire pulled the skin together, but not tight enough. I
closed my eyes and bent over, vomiting on the cold ground from pain and fear. I
sat back up and wiped off my mouth. After a few moments I turned around and
pulled myself onto the bed. I vomited again from the pain and lay on my stomach
upon the dull blankets.
This
went on for years. Week after week I would endure the same painful procedure-
be pricked by the needle and knocked out, just to wake up again with a long
slit down my back. It usually happened once a week, sometimes twice. I didn’t
even feel the pain anymore. I began eating the brown mush; I found out that if
I ate it when I was in the most pain, it took my mind off the excruciating
burning in my back. After two years I overheard a conversation between two
scientists- for that is what they called themselves. The needle they poked me
with was a shot, and they were apparently doing something to my spine. I hated
the scientists with all my soul, and as I grew, so did the hatred.
Then,
one day, I awoke on the floor. I tried to move but screamed out in pain. It was
worse then any pain I had ever felt before. Tears streamed down my face and I
clawed at the ground. I couldn’t move. Every time I so much as lifted a finger
pain would shoot through my body. This is it, I thought, they have
finally decided to kill me.
I
closed my eyes and breathed faster. The pain was getting worse. I cried out in
pain again, louder. I thought I felt the earth shake beneath me from my screams.
And then, darkness. I fainted from the pain. The next day I awoke again to the
pain. It wasn’t as bad as before, but it felt like a white-hot dagger was being
pressed to my spine. I moved my finger slightly, sending a shock through my
body. The pain slowly subsided and soon I could move my entire hand. I tried to
move my arm, but it was too painful for me to bear. I paused for the duration
of three minutes and then tried to move my arm again. I realized I couldn’t and
sighed. I closed my eyes and tried to move my other arm. After an hour or so I
could move my hands and feet less painfully and I could make my arms and legs
twitch. For a few days I continued the painful rehabilitation process. Little
by little I regained feeling in my frail body. Then, that one life changing
day, I was well enough to sit up. I slid my hands beside my body and pushed
myself up into a seated position. Something wasn’t right. I looked down at
myself and frowned. My scraggly blonde hair flowed over my shoulders and my
clothes were old and torn. But that wasn’t it.
I
swayed a little then stopped. I squinted and twisted around. I winced but
fought through the pain to turn. I had a tail. I tried to cry out but was too
speechless to make any noise. My mind raced. It wasn’t like the tail of a cat
or a bird. More like the tail of a large lizard. Red scales gleamed dully and I
tried to figure out what the tail was from. Suddenly I whirled around and y
eyes opened wide as it hit me.
It was a dragon tail.
I
sat there, staring at my new tail. The scientists must have given it to me.
That Is why they played with my spine. I reached out and touched my tail.
When it didn’t move, I reached out and pulled the end into my lap. I ran my
fingers along the shimmering scales. They were cold. I tried to wave my new
tail but it didn’t work. I turned around and touched the area around my new
tail. My spine had been stretched down into my new limb, and new muscles had
been implanted. I tried again to move my tail, and this time the very tip
shuttered and then stopped.