A Few Promises

Chapter 1

I

Drip... Drip... Drip

I wince. What is that noise?

An electrical buzzing is surrounding me from all sides and my head feels like it might implode, pounding and pounding. It's so cold.

Drip... Drip... Drip

I groan as I wake up and open my heavy eyelids.

I'm staring at the light grey sky. It seems to be morning. On my left, the Wall is towering over me, almost bending over to encase me, or crush me. Despite the morning, the air is heavy and feels damp and musty; I can't take a deep breath to calm the thumping in my skull - so I just endure it. The dripping is interrupted by the harsh, gargling caw of a vulture flying above my head. I stare at it opening its wings wide heading towards the outside of the Wall.

What am I doing here? My last memory is of being in my room last night. I turn towards the dripping sound on the left. Morning dew is dripping down the middle rod of a neon grave.

Drip...

Make it stop.

I was lying on the floor, the concrete icy against my back. I look to my right and see endless rows of neon graves. I was deep in the Graveyard... all the way to the Wall. Huh? I put my palm to my forehead, trying to remember how I got here, or what happened last night. All I remember is going to sleep in my bed back in my room... did I sleep-walk all the way here in the night?

Keons' district looks so small from here, it's going to be a pain to walk all the way back... and I feel so exhausted.

I turn back to the dripping grave and squint in the white light emanating from that cold source inside. I think about the unnamed person the grave was put up for... They had thoughts, and a personality, and breathed and walked here...

That will be me in 5 days. My blood will run cold and I will be one neon structure among the million others that take up most of the space in the city. Just another structure that some other kid will walk past and not even notice, not even know it was me. They will walk past my name written in small letters through the Hall of The Glorified. "Alex Hazel" it will say. My entire existence amounted to 4 syllables.

"Where is the honour in that?" My brain blurts out.

I shudder at the blasphemous thought.

"The honour is in Keons' pride in me!" I remind myself. When I accepted to be glorified this year before the Assemblage, the look on his face and the tone in his voice made it all worth it.

The way he bent to my level, put his hand on my shoulder and said "I am so proud of you, dear child."

I whisper it to myself: "I am so proud of you..." and my chest feels warm at the memory. I smile to myself.

If Keons heard my blasphemous thoughts just now, he wouldn't even be disappointed in me, he would say "we both know that is falsehood, Alex" in his forever calm, firm voice. He wouldn't punish me, he would say that doubts are normal as long as you combat them with what you know is the truth. I've been having a lot of mixed thoughts lately, some of which are too blasphemous to utter aloud.

However, none of it matters now.

I know I will be remembered as a good Vialist, even if human weakness overcomes me sometimes. We all have weaknesses - he says - but our faith is stronger. The greatest honour is in overcoming the biggest human weakness: fear of death. Those who don't overcome it will live a life of misery and uncertainty, forever chasing a delusion which they call 'freedom'. "A sorry excuse for cowardice," he says.