Rantglass - because that's how things are.


Waking up.

Waking up.

“If your name is on the list, you will have to join us no matter what,” came the announcement upfront, where a table of sorts for registration purposes had been hastily set up.

Everyone else around me was fidgeting nervously. Why would one want to join the dark side, anyway? But there was no choice. We were already surrounded by mean-looking thugs, hovering about us with their equally threatening shotguns. The queue inched slowly towards the table. I heard soft sighs of relief when their names could not be found on the all-important list. Then came my turn, and I felt my insides turning into ice. I could feel it coming. Oh no.

She scanned through the paper like a hawk, then her eyes settled somewhere at the bottom of the list. Eventually, she looked up at me. I knew I was doomed.

“We found you,” she said with a sickeningly sweet tone, gesturing to her left. Another person took over immediately, holding up a tray of cookies: “Take one. This is part of our tradition.”

Before I knew it, I found myself munching on one of the cookies as the official busied herself with various registration arrangements – for me, supposedly. Then I felt a hot fury brewing within my stomach; I thought I saw the half-eaten cookie dropping onto the ground in slow motion. The revelation came to me in a sudden rush, as I battled the assailing waves of pain and tried desperately to refrain myself from slipping out of consciousness.

I was utterly defeated. She nodded: “The poison is necessary.” She said it so calmly, it was as though she was merely pointing out that the sky is blue.

The last thing I remember seeing was the evil grin on her face.

I am not quite sure what happened, but I think I must have turned into a female version of Darth Vader.

I am just afraid I had morphed into something worse.

Details of this entry.Wednesday, January 19, 2005, filed under Blogger Archives.
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