The beautiful sun rose over the icy horizon. I watched as it glistened and shone like the brightest stars in the sky. It warmed my still face and brought a smile to my frozen lips. My Inuit life ended almost as soon as it had begun.
I was born without a coat or face. No boots to
warm my frostbitten feet and no fur gloves to stop my hands from drying out. My
tears dripped from unseen eyes and froze not long after escaping them. The wind
howled and roared almost blowing me from the table where I lay. The night
lasted a lifetime and when dawn decided to finally rise I was overjoyed.
However, my joy was not long-lived as the harsh
reality washed upon me. The first hours of that first day were filled with
excruciating pain. I was chipped and chiselled, burnt and scorched so I would
be beautiful. I was clothed in warm fur and cloth and given a delicate smile.
My limbs were indented with tiny fingers and toes which were perfect and wonderfully
crafted. I was so stupid. I really believed that this was the start of a new
life. I was so infantile. I couldn't wait for the devotion and adoration that I
thought would follow my ordeal. Becoming a doll, so beautiful I took people’s
breath away.
From my new eyes I had looked around my frosty abode
and saw that I was alone. The bare igloo had only a table and chair occupying
it, both made of worn wood. The bright sun shone through the only gap apart
from the door in the solid snow walls closing me in. It was perfect. I was
happy.
The night of the ceremony was a blur. I had
been oblivious to what was going on around me. I loved how
people with white faces and clothes just like mine kissed
my glowing cheeks and bowed down to me. I looked up at their joyous
faces from my perch and a barely visible smile spread across my face. My
creator, a man with tough hands and a serious face, picked me up with strong
hands and took me out of the door. The stars glistened in the sky and a huge
bright fire lit everyone’s faces. It danced to the drums which encased our
ears. As my carrier and I turned past the wonderful fire we came to an igloo
just like mine. As we entered, I saw hundreds of beautiful faces
identical to mine, piled high on the lonely table in the centre of
the room.
All of a sudden, hundreds of men, indistinguishable from my
creator, crowded the room and each picked up and carried a single
doll majestically over their heads. My little heart sung as we all filed out of
the igloo and were taken back around the corner towards the fire. A corridor of
bowing bodies formed an alleyway to the fire. Even with my suit of armour to
protect me from the cold, I craved the intense heat the fire could give me. As
we got closer, I realised how deprived I had been of warmth.
The rhythm of the drums had changed. It was fast-paced and got faster
and faster as we neared the fire. Suddenly, as if reaching its climax, the
music stopped and I found myself and my clones soaring through the air. We spun
and flew like birds on our way home. And then, with a thud, we found solid land
on the fire.
We must have looked a sight, all 300 of us
burning brightly on the bonfire. The warmth was incredible. The
fire engulfed my every sense. The music was excited and toyed with the
fire so it would dance. My skin blazed and the brilliant reds,
oranges and yellows blinded me. My arms flailed and waved with the fire
but when I looked around for my fiery friends I realised my dance had
ended. Our moment had gone and with that I crumbled away with the heat still
deep within me.
by Juliette Child
No comments:
Post a Comment