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Writer's pictureEnchaunti Waroway

The beginning... A story with no name yet.

Updated: Jan 3

“Maya, get up now, it’s time to get ready!” The voice was serious and stern. It came from the other room but was loud enough to wake her up. To Maya, the voice was familiar, yet she felt it was lacking the human quality that used to be there.

Maya lay in her bed, awoken by this demand. A feeling of fear and sadness she had never felt before filled her body. She felt heavy and wished she could return to the realm of dreams, where she often felt safer and freer. She had no concept of how long she had been staring at her ceiling in terror, but she knew every splinter of wood grain as though they were her friends. If a knot were missing, she’d know it. An invisible weight pressed on Maya’s chest as the voice called to her again, demanding that she rise. “Get up now and get ready!”

Still, she lay in bed, unable to move. Her blanket felt itchy against her skin and wasn’t long enough to cover her tiny feet. A cool morning breeze rattled through the bottom of her window, creeping through the holes of her raggedy blanket that she had had her whole short life. The cracks in the wooden ceiling imprinted their image in her mind as she thought about how this would be the last time she would see them with her eyes. She didn’t particularly love the ceiling above her bed, but it had become a constant companion during sleepless nights. The patterns in the grain seemed to dance at times, and she would imagine what the tree looked like before it was turned into her ceiling.

Her door swung open, jolting her out of her daze and causing her heart to clench.

“Maya, this is an important day, and not one where you can be fooling around like this. Now, get your uniform on and come into the dining room for some food before it’s time to go.”

It was her mother, but something seemed different. Maya had memories of playing with her mom in the woods near their house. They would talk about the shapes of the flowers, their sweet scents, and make up different names for them that usually related to their size and colors of their petals. There was Teeny Tiny Sunny, Big Fat Ocean, Swirly Whirly Night Sky, and so many more that had now become faint memories. Even her mother’s laugh was now so distant in her mind that she wondered if she had made it all up in her dreams.

The mother who stood before her now in the doorway was much more serious than the mother she went to the forest with. Maya couldn’t understand why she had changed, but she knew it made her heart ache.

“Yes, Mother, I’m sorry. I’ll prepare immediately,” Maya said these words as she pulled herself out of bed.

Her mother looked at her with a distant sadness in her eyes and said, “I’ll expect you shortly then.” She then left and closed the door behind her.

Maya had been told for years that her 5th birthday would be an important one. When children turn five, they are gathered from their homes by village leaders and taken to the Institution of Impact. She was told this was where children learn about their world and how to be proper villagers. Older villagers who knew Maya would be turning five soon would pinch her cheeks and say, “Look at you growing up! Soon you’ll be a big girl and learn how to be a proper villager!” They seemed excited about this, but Maya didn’t feel excited in the slightest. “A proper villager?” she wondered what that really meant.

When Maya looked around at the adult villagers, they all seemed sad, bored, and angry, in contrast to the other kids her age who would run about and laugh for what seemed like no reason at all. There were no kids in the village unless they were under five years old. Children would return from the Institution of Impact after their 20th birthday. She had seen some of them come back, and although she never knew them as children, she knew part of them was missing. Nothing that could be seen, but something that could be felt.


If being a proper villager meant changing like that, Maya wanted no part of it.

She couldn’t understand why she had to go or why her mother would force her to go away like this.

Maya hadn’t seen her father since she was three. She only had vague memories of him sitting in a chair by a weak fire, drinking from barrels he kept in the backyard. She would ask him to play with her, but he would be so caught up with the flames dancing in front of his eyes that he barely noticed little Maya’s requests. Something seemed to be missing from him too, but she didn’t have words to describe what any of that really meant.

Maya saw her uniform folded up on a small chair in the corner of her room. She picked up the pants and shirt and held them against her body as she imagined what would happen to her at the Institution of Impact. The shirt was black and had the Institution’s red logo embroidered on the chest. As she tried to make sense of the symbol on the logo, she was unexpectedly interrupted by a faint voice saying, “Don’t go.” Spinning around to scan her room, she saw nothing and wondered if the voice was her own. After all, this was how she felt. She wished so badly that her mom would come back in and say, “Maya, let’s run away to the forest and never look back!” But all she had was this imaginary voice telling her not to go.

Maya began to take off her pajamas so she could change into her uniform. As she was about to put on the ironed black pants, she heard the same voice again, but louder, saying, “Don’t put on the uniform! Run to the forest!” Now Maya felt sure that this voice couldn’t be her own, yet it sounded so familiar. Her heart began to race, and suddenly it was as if someone else had taken control of her body. She went to her dresser and pulled out her usual day clothes: leggings cut off below the knee, a tattered green skirt, and a once-white cotton shirt with long sleeves. She left the uniform in a pile on the ground as she searched for and found a small backpack in the bottom of her dresser. She stuffed it with more clothes and her blanket friend.

Her shoes were at the entrance of her house, so she knew she would have to leave them behind. There was one item that called to her still: a stone bear carving her mother had given her last year on her fourth birthday. Still feeling controlled by another force, she knew what she had to do and that she would have to be quick. Maya stood on her toes as she reached up to grab the bear sculpture resting on her dresser. It felt almost too heavy for her to carry, but she felt a surge of power rush through her as support.


Taking one last look around her room, she quietly said goodbye to her mom. Then, using all her strength, she threw the bear at her window, smashing the glass and creating an exit. The now shattered window looked out the back of her house, which faced the forest. As soon as she created her exit, Maya climbed through what she imagined as a portal to a new dimension. She felt the glass cut into her skin, but there was no time to worry about the pain. Jumping down to the ground below wasn’t far because her whole house was only one story high. As soon as her feet hit the grass beneath her, she ran toward the forest as fast as she could. The same familiar voice called to her again, saying, “Run! Don’t look back!” She didn’t look back, but tears flowed from her eyes as she thought about her mom.

The grassy field stretched on for what felt like hours, even though she knew it didn’t take that long to reach the forest. The sun was still rising, mist hung low over the field, and dewy grass painted her bare feet.

Soon, the field turned into forest; the dewy grass turned into mud and branches. She continued to run, hurdling over fallen trees and dodging rocks.

Eventually, a pain grew in her lungs and body, forcing her to stop to catch her breath. Maya collapsed beneath a tall tree and almost immediately passed out from exhaustion.


... to be continued ...

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