January 1, 2021: Black Out Days

Song: “Black Out Days” by Phantogram from VOICES

Listen to it here

It was The Ritual and The Ritual was good.

She knew this as certainly as she knew the on line of brown that ran through the green of her left iris. She knew it because she had been taught it, she knew it because she had seen it. The Ritual was good. She was about to undertake the ritual. Soon she too would be good. Soon she would be One.

There was no fear, which did not surprise her. Why fear the ritual if it is good, after all?

But there was no excitement either. No giddy anxiety dancing in her stomach spreading gooseflesh outward. Instead resignation. She was to be One and all she felt was…nothing. Not peace. Not calm. Just…empty.

So she sat in The Vessel and waited. She did not call out, she did ask for Mother or Guide or even her oldest friend Ghent. That was not The Ritual and she would not ever disrupt it. That was not to be done. She did not do what was not to be done. So instead she sat empty and wait.

The walls of The Vessel sparked and surged with bioluminescence, almost dancing in rhythm to an unheard song. It was strange and beautiful. She wondered why it was only The Vessel that looked like this. Why couldn’t the walls of her place spin and pulse with such delight? Why had she only ever seen walls of pale yellow and dusk grey until now?

She pushed the thought away. She knew The Ritual depended on purity of mind. She, like everyone, had heard the stories of the Impure. The wild proclamations. The temptations. The sin. All because they allowed improper thought to pollute The Ritual. She was not one of The Impure. Never. That was not her fate. It would not be her fate.

She had expected someone to tell her when things were to begin but no one came. Instead she was seized by it without warning. A sound like a bell. But not outside, not heard, but instead her head. Felt. Perceived. Not heard. And yet, it felt heard.

Then her skin was as if on fire. But not painful burning. More like a soft but supportive grip of flame. Intense warmth that felt…perfect. Amazing. Like the best sensations combined and painted on every inch of her skin.

The world went dark then. She blinked against it but it remained impenetrable. She could still feel the pinwheeling pale white-pink-blue-green light. She KNEW it was there. But her eyes, they could no longer perceive it. The light remained but her eyes had been…turned off, almost. That was all she could think to call it.

Her breath felt cold in her chest, her throat, her mouth. Hissing out her nose. Spilling over her lips. As if he skin was as warm and wonderful as she could ever want and her insides were the most pleasant kind of frozen. She gasped and giggled with the clash of sensation.

But it was all and only physical. Deep inside where her true self lived, she remained unmoved. Her body was delighted but her emotions, her cognitions, her unconscious, all of it felt as rooted in place, as unaffected, as stone.

There shockwaves spread across her. Gathering in her fingertips and drawing maps across her skin until they coiled and collided and collapsed in the center of her. Energy tracing the roads of her body beneath her skin. An atlas of her written in unseen electricity.

Finally she screamed. Howled. Loud and gleeful and straining. Hoping she could be heard. Hoping everyone heard her becoming One. Even if her soul did not feel it, they would hear her and they would believe in The Ritual still and eventually she knew she would know it had worked and believe again. But first she needed them all to hear.

Then she cut her vocalizations short with a snap of her jaw, eyes rolling upward and returning, seeing once more. Seeing everything. Seeing it as only those known as One could. Vision beyond vision. All senses making her truly see.

Then the voices came. The last step. All the One taking hold on her, joining in her, greeting her in her head. Thousands whispering secrets. Sharing power. Offering her futures she could hardly believe.

With a hiss The Vessel opened and The Steward entered. She seized him, shattered him immediately. The moment was the first she felt anything. She felt power. She was power. She was One.

And she could not wait to destroy everyone who made her this way.