Lamae | #JustWriteIt WINNER ✔

3 | Panic

I was marred, and there was no going back. I would have to pretend I didn't have my sight. Although all I could see as of yet were faint blurs of red against the blackness that had always accompanied me from point of birth, it would return, and then what would I tell them? That I had been chained and forced into the way of the sighted?

The Alhukum would catch me. They always caught people who escaped Lamae or were cruel to their neighbors. The greatest proverb was that they were "more merciful than a mother to her child, but more fiery to the wicked than the sun scourging a naked back" (Lamaean Code 2:23:56). Soon I would see what the fiery side was. The rebels had destroyed my life.

But the bed was so soft that I quickly forgot all of my worries and slipped into dream again.

▣

I slowly gained strength over the next few days. My bedroom included that immensely soft bed, a full bathroom, warm carpet, and food always at my bedside. I never took it, because I feared it was poisoned, but as the days wore on I grew weaker and weaker with hunger.

I was unsure of how much time had passed when I heard someone entering the room one morning. She spoke almost instantly. "My name is Doctor Essa. I apologize for not introducing myself prior to now. However, due to your mental state, I couldn't risk it."

"I hate you rebels," I growled. "Every single one of you. You caused my best friend's brother to die. You give people sight just so the Alhukum can track them down. You—"

A silky finger came to my lips. "Will you pay heed to my words, or will you continue to make a fool of yourself?"

"I'm making a fool of myself?" I laughed. "What about how you brainwash our citizens to walk to our deaths? Even if you don't kill me yourself, by giving me sight, you have sentenced me to death under the Alhukum!"

Essa was quiet until I had finished my tirade. Then she spoke surprising words to me. "Do you think that it is a good thing that the Alhukum sentences you to death merely for having sight?"

It took me a moment to respond. "Sight means you're weak and dependent on something that's only temporary."

"Sight also means you can truly know what your government is doing behind your back," Essa said in a hushed voice. "We have given you your sight in order that you may truly know the lies the Alhukum teaches you."

"If it's a lie, I'm best off dying with it," I said. "Isn't that what will make me happier?"

Essa was silent for a time, then stood. "Happiness is all relative. But you are correct. It is your choice whether or not to starve yourself to death."

"I will never fight for rebels. I honor the Alhukum. If I fail the test, they'll kill me—"

"They're going to kill you anyway," Essa said. "There's no escape until you see."

"And how long will that be?" I asked, my voice breaking. Could I go a year without being with Rashida? My parents? Or maybe the rebels wanted to keep me for even longer with that. It was too much to bear. My lungs sped up with breath, and I feared I might hyperventilate.

Essa placed a cool hand between my shoulder-blades. "Just rest," she said quietly. "If you get lonely, I'll send someone in here to keep you company." And with that, I heard the clicking of her high heels as she exited the room.

▣

The rebels pampered me until I was able to see vague outlines of objects that, in the past, I had only had mental images of. I am not sure of how much time passed, but I believe it was around three weeks. After that, they ceased. (I do not know whether it was because they somehow recognized this improvement to my sight, or because they feared I would be violent toward them; either option was possible.)

I began to walk around my bedroom and use it, eventually going beyond the doors into the rest of the compound. It was well-lit, and thanks to the glasses I had, it was not blinding. My sight came and came, until at last I was able to see—just in gradients of black and white.

Before I had gotten my sight, I was convinced that all that there truly was to the world was what I knew. The Alhukum had always told me that to get sighted meant I was ungrateful to all they had done to provide me. Worse, it meant I loved my dependence on my eyes more than I loved them.

But I saw now that that was not the case. I could love both the Alhukum and my sight—although I did not love my sight until I had it. Sometimes I doubted this position, this war between worlds that I had. The Alhukum portrayed sight as a forbidden fruit, but this forbidden fruit seemed right.

Who was wrong—the Alhukum, the rebels, or me for embracing it as natural and good? Or perhaps the rebels and I could be entwined as one, both partaking in the sin that our caretakers condemned.

But I still hated the rebels. I could hate them and still see they were doing something good for me. I could love the Alhukum and still see it as having committed a mild error of its own.

Or so I thought.

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Tell me what you think....

● Is it possible to be grateful to both the Alhukum and the rebels?

● What do you think of the Alhukum's proverb about mercy?