Post by ryuzaki on Aug 21, 2008 21:29:32 GMT -5
I'm not sure whether or not to continue on with this. Feedback?
It was an odd place, Yacksey.
The little town bordered a long, nameless river- or it didn't have a name that stuck well. It was officially called the Yacksey River, hence the town's name, but most folks just referred to it as "The River". It was huge, deep, and an odd shade of brownish-gray- ugly in all aspects. Then again, so was the rest of Yacksey.
The town seemed to be in a perpetual state of gray, regarding both mood and color. Grays and browns. The weather was always overcast or rainy, and nearly every house was built on stilts so as to not be drowned out by the constantly growing river. Each house was tiny like a shack, and built of a dull brown wood that was the same color inside and out.
Yacksey had a mayor, but old Cotsworth was only a figurehead. So little happened in Yascksey that they would have survived fine without any form of leadership whatsoever- they didn't even have a police department or lawkeeper other than Cotsworth. It was unnecessary. There wasn't anything worth stealing or vandalizing or beating up in Yacksey. The townsfolk went on everyday in a dull monotony.
They were all fishermen. No one would survive if they weren't.
Not that it even mattered to most. The dead were unceremoniously dropped into the river for the fish. Then the fish were caught and eaten.
There were no funerals in Yacksey, nor where there weddings, parties, anything. There was no point. All of the children belonged to cousins who had become couples- after all, no one had left or entered Yacksey in over fifty years. Some folks still remembered when Yacksey was a thriving, beautiful town, but not many. That was, as the elders described it "a different time."
Everyone seemed oddly content with this dull, somewhat disturbing monotony. Until Cassandra was born.
No one was sure who Cassandra's parents were, but it wasn't surprising. A lot of the children had unidentified parents. However, she was different. The kids all shared common features- dark hair, earthy eyes, dirty skin straight from the womb. But when Cassandra was found on the ground beneath one of the stilted houses, her umbilical cord still attached, crying her lungs out, she was pale as paper. Not even a drop of blood remained on her. Her eyes were a shocking blue and her hair was blonde. She was the most exciting thing to happen in town, and so of course was ogled at for quite some time. But no one dared to touch her. They watched her cry for an hour under the house, marveling at her hair and eyes in a wary distrust.
She's not like us, was the mutal thought. She's too different.
Finally, feeling it to be his mayoral duty, Cottsworth took in Cassandra and assigned a woman named Adrian to feed her, clothe her, etcetera. But Cassandra did not live like the other children- she was sheltered in Cottsworth's house,. This was only because Cottsworth knew the children would be cruel to her. Or so he claimed.
She grew up in a tiny shack overlooking a muddy river, listening to children play without her. Occasionally she would dare to ask to leave the house and play, but Cottsworth never let her. Eventually he confined her to her tiny bedroom. She would look out at the water and dream of the day she turned sixteen- the day Cottsworth promised she could leave the house.
(to be cont'd)
It was an odd place, Yacksey.
The little town bordered a long, nameless river- or it didn't have a name that stuck well. It was officially called the Yacksey River, hence the town's name, but most folks just referred to it as "The River". It was huge, deep, and an odd shade of brownish-gray- ugly in all aspects. Then again, so was the rest of Yacksey.
The town seemed to be in a perpetual state of gray, regarding both mood and color. Grays and browns. The weather was always overcast or rainy, and nearly every house was built on stilts so as to not be drowned out by the constantly growing river. Each house was tiny like a shack, and built of a dull brown wood that was the same color inside and out.
Yacksey had a mayor, but old Cotsworth was only a figurehead. So little happened in Yascksey that they would have survived fine without any form of leadership whatsoever- they didn't even have a police department or lawkeeper other than Cotsworth. It was unnecessary. There wasn't anything worth stealing or vandalizing or beating up in Yacksey. The townsfolk went on everyday in a dull monotony.
They were all fishermen. No one would survive if they weren't.
Not that it even mattered to most. The dead were unceremoniously dropped into the river for the fish. Then the fish were caught and eaten.
There were no funerals in Yacksey, nor where there weddings, parties, anything. There was no point. All of the children belonged to cousins who had become couples- after all, no one had left or entered Yacksey in over fifty years. Some folks still remembered when Yacksey was a thriving, beautiful town, but not many. That was, as the elders described it "a different time."
Everyone seemed oddly content with this dull, somewhat disturbing monotony. Until Cassandra was born.
No one was sure who Cassandra's parents were, but it wasn't surprising. A lot of the children had unidentified parents. However, she was different. The kids all shared common features- dark hair, earthy eyes, dirty skin straight from the womb. But when Cassandra was found on the ground beneath one of the stilted houses, her umbilical cord still attached, crying her lungs out, she was pale as paper. Not even a drop of blood remained on her. Her eyes were a shocking blue and her hair was blonde. She was the most exciting thing to happen in town, and so of course was ogled at for quite some time. But no one dared to touch her. They watched her cry for an hour under the house, marveling at her hair and eyes in a wary distrust.
She's not like us, was the mutal thought. She's too different.
Finally, feeling it to be his mayoral duty, Cottsworth took in Cassandra and assigned a woman named Adrian to feed her, clothe her, etcetera. But Cassandra did not live like the other children- she was sheltered in Cottsworth's house,. This was only because Cottsworth knew the children would be cruel to her. Or so he claimed.
She grew up in a tiny shack overlooking a muddy river, listening to children play without her. Occasionally she would dare to ask to leave the house and play, but Cottsworth never let her. Eventually he confined her to her tiny bedroom. She would look out at the water and dream of the day she turned sixteen- the day Cottsworth promised she could leave the house.
(to be cont'd)
