The Ceremony

Out from the woods leaps a fawn who, in any other world would face no challenge to the wrangler ahead. Cadibel’s hands clutch the glass in her side, slowly sinking deeper into the water, she feels the fawn scurry to its feet on the bridge above. As long as she could remember she had this feeling of drowning; of an unsteady car pushed off its course by nothing more than a lost soul, launching her into a forever surrounding blue. Cadibel’s phone floats next to her, she can't hear anything out of it, but knows the other side of that call is her fiance shouting back, “what happened, what’s happening, are you okay?”. The cries through the phone turn to sobs, Cadibel soothes herself, stroking the velvet insides of her new home as recognizable faces pass before her with blurred eyes and reddened necks, making their peace.

A white open space fills her surroundings. She grips her bare toes into the cracks of the white tiled floors as they turn to color. Nearly nothing is left blank now, and her eyes finally begin to adjust to the light. She notices others having a similar experience: people around her age rubbing their eyes, spinning around, touching the ground below them. This is a dream, Cadibel comes to this conclusion deemed the only logical one, and she clenches her jaw to push away a fawn’s eyes forming on every object around her. She tries to remember faces, thoughts, or feelings she’s had before, but they’re too far away. Things feel old, yet very very new. Are they at a train station, she wonders, flashing back to subway doors opening and flashing lights, but no, she thinks, scanning the endless walls around her, that’s not quite right. The people look like everyday people, some in suits, in scrubs, in overalls and muddied boots, some in casual wear like her: converse, jeans, and a sleeveless tee. Suddenly, a person out of place approaches her. Now standing in front of her, Cadibel takes her in: every piece on her body is purple apart from a large moss agate gem hanging from her neck. Purple cloth drapes her head to toe, shades of purple ink on every visible area of her dark skin, besides her head, which is covered in piercings; purple hoops hanging from heavily gauged ears, double eyebrow studs, and lips of metal. Cadibel holds her breath.

The purple person holds Cadibel’s hands, she feels the cool touch of metal rings on her palm and in between her fingers, her hair stands up on her neck and she releases her breath. The breath closes her eyes involuntarily, and when they open the woman is gone. A crumpled paper remains in Cadibel’s hands, but she can’t open her fist. She struggles to steady her heartbeat and relaxes her fingers. She delicately unfolds the paper, it reads, “Follow the directions: Put the gloves on and do not touch anything or anyone. Follow the gray arrows”. Gloves appear before Cadibel, as if answering her rapidly forming questions. The gloves levitate in front of her face, raising more questions. She studies the gloves in the air, before sliding her hands into them, where am I, she wonders. Gray arrows begin forming on the tiles below as the gloves form to fit her fingers and palms perfectly.

Cadibel looks around again, watching those attempting to follow their own directions. Arrows begin forming in front of her: green, gray, purple, and red markings appear, leading people to entrances throughout the open space. Nobody was stepping out of line, Cadibel wondered if it should be her to question these rules, but she followed suit. A few steps ahead, a green arrow was perpendicular to her gray arrow, she noticed and stopped short, looking back and forth, buying time by tying her shoes. A man comes quickly by, she puts her arm out, being careful to not touch him, and whispers, “please, please, where are we?”. He stops short, shakes his head and shrugs, then reaches into the loose pocket of his sweatshirt to pull out a crumpled piece of paper. He aggressively points to the line where Cadibel’s reads, “do not touch”, but his paper says, “do not speak”. He shrugs again before taking off swiftly. Cadibel searches for the lady in purple, no longer trusting the arrows ahead of her.

A person in green now stands before a cross-legged Cadibel on the ground. They clear their voice to get her attention and put out their hand to help her up. Cadibel shows the person her paper while she scans them, they look of the same world as her purple friend, but more androgynous. They had short hair, emerald clothes draping their body, chains on their arms and legs clanking as they gesture to their supportive hand. Her scanning is interrupted as the woman in purple is looking over from a distance, so Cadibel puts out her hand, hesitant for what will come next.

Chandeliers from ceiling to floor create a jungle gym to bend and duck through, blue and gray tint the space. Cadibel’s eyes adjust, while trying to piece together the previous moments. She watches herself from above: she followed the rest of the arrows, placed her hands on a door, and entered this room. She looks down, her gloves have turned greenish-blue and her clothes are silvery-blue and loose fitting, they are stylish and comfortable, she thought. She enters the jungle gym, spotting others in similar colors squeezing through the delicate gray sapphire gemstones hanging like spider webs from the ceiling forming a beautiful maze.

Upon exiting the maze, a clear gray-blue gem levitates at eye level, and when she touches it, a hologram opens revealing a screen and keypad. The screen shows four blank spaces, with a cursor on the first blank. No one is anywhere near her, she feels, keeping her eyes on the screen and barely blinking. Memories rush back to her: her family of six, three sisters holding a wobbly human pyramid to celebrate her graduation, her parents trying to get a clear photo while holding in laughter. Images continue flashing; her and her best friend crying of laughter at nothing in their shared dorm room, her fiance holding her, knowing she’d accept a world of just her if she had to, they grip at each other’s skin. The past continues playing over and over, and it’s almost unbearable, she felt, keeping her hand on her stomach to ensure breaths were still coming. The screen starts blinking with red letters, they read, “reset your password, release your memories, relish in your new life”. Cadibel’s chest and throat close, she convinced herself of this, as she typed four letters into their place in hopes to open them back up, “F-A-W-N”, she entered.

The place goes dark. Shouting commences in one direction, while behind her consists of confused, scared, and excited faces, all dressed in different shades of gray and blue, illuminated by gems and crystals threaded through their clothes. This is all she remembers; no faces exist past now, no place she’s ever called home can be recalled, thoughts and feelings have no trace, there is only right now. Silence fills the room, no chatter or breaths can be heard, “the ceremony will begin”, these words echo, circulating the room. Cadibel looks down at her hands, they begin to tingle and glow like glass in water, the blood in her veins scurrying to find an exit, she counts seven living things.