AN: Welcome me back with loving arms my readers! Thank you all so SO SO much for the beautiful words that you've written in your reviews. I love each and every one of you!(: Here is the beginning of part 2 of Mad World! I hope you enjoy!
Part Two:
I wake in the hot tent as I do every morning. I groan as I sit up and stretch my stiff muscles. I am glad that the Tribe believes mirrors to be evil, or so I think that is why they avoid them so much; I must look like an absolute nightmare.
But the people of the Tribe don't seem to think so. It is the same thing every day. I wake up and sit in this tent staring at the walls made of animal hide and running my hands through the many pelts that litter the ground for me to sleep on. Then the women come in and run oils through my hair and body. They treat wounds if I have any. They make sure I am presentable.
As if on cue, they all come into the tent carrying their pottery full of mixed herbs and oils with them. They all sit around me, talking amongst themselves in a language I cannot begin to understand. I sigh as they begin the same task that they do every morning, trying to make me look pretty—in vain, I'm sure. Though they are all comfortable with grabbing me and pulling me in every which way, they seem to avoid my dress altogether; something about the gossamer and lace seems to put them on edge; it is so foreign and beautiful to them that they do not want to ruin it any more than it has already been ruined.
Of course, it is the same gown that I had worn the day of the Choosing Ceremony, which felt like decades ago. I sigh as I think about it. I close my eyes and picture Cassius' face when I tackled him in the field and helped him dodge one of Maxim's bullets: his golden eyes were wide and looking at me as if he couldn't truly believe what was sitting before him, his black hair a tangled beautiful mess. "Soph?" he asks, as if I am just a figment of his imagination, his fiery eyes taking me in.
Cassius, I want to say. I want to reach out and touch his face as though he isn't just a figment of my imagination. I think I'm forgetting the color of your eyes.
Of course, if my thoughts turn and head down a darker path, which they always do, it doesn't take long for me to picture Cassius now, sitting across from Daphne at the dinner table, smiling when she says something funny, holding her hand as they walk through the forest of Neverland together, going back to the House and going to the bedroom that they share where he will hold her while she falls asleep in his arms.
The thoughts sicken me so much that I open my eyes and willingly greet the harsh reality that I am in right now. It didn't take much for Peter to come to a decision on what should happen to me. "No one leaves Neverland," he had said as he hauled me behind him and thrown me onto the back of a boat to be shipped off across the sea in this realm, where I was sold to the Tribe.
I did try to run away, when I first arrived in this place where the Tribe greeted me with foreign words and odd chants. They caught me sneaking out of my tent late one night- I really hadn't made it far at all- and forced some herbal concoction down my throat. I spit and screamed and clawed, but they finally made me choke the liquid down and I had fallen asleep. They give me this liquid every day to keep me docile, to make sure that my head stays as fuzzy as possible.
As fairytale endings would go, mine didn't seem to be too terrible. I try my hardest to make the best of the situation I am in, though sometimes it is hard. I do not know why they want me here, first of all. I don't understand their language at all and they definitely do not understand me. I lost count of all of the times I had tried to explain to them that all I wanted was to go back across the sea and find the portal to take me home, but no matter how much I gestured or pleaded, they all simply stared at me as though I was a rare piece of art in a museum.
And I do stick out like a sore thumb here. Maybe that is why they all like me so much. Where all of the men and women here have raven black hair and beautifully tanned skin with honey colored eyes, I am pale and blonde with blue eyes. My dress sets me apart from the hides that they wear as well.
Which may be what the daily ritual is for. I can't exactly figure out the pattern, although it is the same thing every day.
They come in once I have woken up and try their best to make me look pretty, then they leave me with some food and water. After I am finished eating, they come in and put some finishing touches on my face and hair before it is time for the ceremony.
This will be the seventh day of the ceremony, which might be why all of the women around me are talking so excitedly as they run a comb made from bone through my tangles and twist braids through my waves. Maybe the seventh day is the final day of them doing this to me. Maybe after this they will let me go and I can try and find my way back across the sea.
Once they are done with the daily beautification routine, I am left alone with a bowl of meat and broth and some water. I pick at it, my appetite having fled as soon as I was forced into this situation. Though most of the time I tried, I can never find it in myself to begrudge Peter for what he did to me. He doesn't allow anyone but the Lost Boys to leave Neverland only on the occasion when they need to go out and search for candidates for Brides to be with the new Peter. He knows, deep down, that if Cassius knew that I did not go home, he would be upset. And Peter doesn't seem the type to like it when his son questions the order of things in Neverland.
Sometimes people have to do crazy things to protect the ones they love.
Once it is time for the ritual, my favorite of the Tribe comes in. She is young, maybe only a couple of biological years older than Alice looks. That must be why I like her so much, because she reminds me so much of both Alice and Mary. She has tried telling me her name, but I cant even begin to know how to say it.
She walks into the tent that I am in and grabs my hand, helping me to my feet. She leads me out of the tent and into the darkness of the night, the only source of illumination being a large bonfire. I try and think of the last time I have seen daylight and shudder at the thought. It hasn't been for a while now, not since I've arrived here with the Tribe.
As usual, I am led to the spot that I must sit at every night in front of the fire. There are drums being played and sticks struck together to make a sort of beat and everyone in the Tribe dances around the fire, throwing their hair back and singing words that I cannot understand.
The only other person that is not dancing other than me is the Chief. He sits across the fire from me, and stares at me with deep-set eyes. He wears a beautiful headdress and has painted symbols across his naked chest and arms. His stare is unnerving and I look away.
It is like that for the rest of the night. At first it was so terrifying that all I could do was sit with my legs drawn to my chest and stare in horror at all of the people in the Tribe dancing around me and screaming words I could not understand. Now it is just another night of the same thing. I sit and watch as they dance and pray and tell stories and gesture vaguely at me from time to time.
And then, when the sun starts to rise, the little girl comes over to where I am sitting and hands me a cup full of murky liquid. I take it with a nod and down it in one gulp. It tastes awful, but it has the effect on me that they want: it serves as a powerful sedative.
I stand and walk back to my tent, but not before getting stopped from the Chief this time. Surprised, I look up at him silently as he stares down at me. The Tribe has stopped chanting, the only sound is the crackling of the flames as the fire rages on behind the Chief.
Silently, he raises his hand and brushes my hair from my shoulder, exposing the bare skin there. I shiver as he trails two of his fingers from the tip of my shoulder to the place on my chest right over my heart, leaving a trail of red paint in his wake. Once he has done this he gives a curt nod and the Tribe begins to dance and holler once more as I am led back to my tent.
The sedative that they make me drink is already starting to kick in and I stumble, falling onto the animal pelts and looking up at the little girl. When she is alone with me, I talk to her, though I don't think she can understand me. Sometimes it feels as though she is following along, and once she even repeated the words that I was saying to see if she got what I was saying right.
"What was that for?" I ask her. When she remains silent, I try again. "I don't understand what you guys want from me."
The girl seems to think for a moment before gesturing toward the commotion outside of the tent.
"The ceremony?" I say and she nods. "What's the ceremony for?" I prompt.
She points at me and draws an invisible line from her shoulder to her heart, exactly like the line the Chief has just painted on me.
"Okay," I say, gesturing to my own neck and nodding my understanding.
She points to the invisible mark on her skin, then outside, meaning the Chief. Then she points at me. "Chief is Sun," she says to my surprise. "You Moon."
"So the Chief is the Sun and I am the Moon?" I repeat and she nods.
She points at me again, but I don't realize that she is pointing to my stomach until she gestures it on herself, forming her hands around an invisible balloon in front of her stomach. "Baby," she says.
Right before I lose consciousness, she says it once more. "Sun and Moon. Baby."
AN: OH SNAP! Review my loves! Tell me what you guys think! Do you have any guesses as to what will happen in the near future!? Tell me about it! Till next time!