We were outcasts, kicked out of society. Everyone looked on us like a disease, not as who were were. Why couldn't they see who were were inside instead of what was on us? When I was well, they accepted me, but when I put on the disease, they rejected me.
Two weeks ago, when I was in District 3, I fell into a pile of rubble and stones after being pushed by a soldier. A doe came out to help me. She brought me inside her house and helped me clean my scrapes. Then she made tea and we sat and talked. Her name was Eva. She was ont part of District 7, so I couldn't mention that to her, but I told her about my brothers. In return, she told me about her past and how she came to Akolan. Her children were killed in the afterterrors, she said, but instead of losing hope like so many did, she began to help everyone she could. Once she was put in Akolan, she couldn't do anything big, but she was able to slip hungry miners an extra potato or give them a sip of water when they passed. Sometimes she cared for babies while their mothers worked. She was a lovely rabbit and I could have spent days with her, but my father was expecting me so I had to leave.
A week later, on Rebellion Day, I mottled my fur and used paint and water to put sores on myself. It was all part of the plan of course, but they didn't understand. As I charged at the front of the group of "lepers" I saw Eva and she saw me. Her mouth was open as she stared at us – at me. In her eyes there was a look of recognition and loathing disgust and fear. She was afraid of me and found me repelling. I think if she wasn't so frightened she would have spit on us. We were appalling and offensive to her. I was detestable to her.
I'll never forget that look she had before she scrambled away from me. How could someone so nice who I was with only a few days before act like that toward me? She knew who I was. When you have a disease, does that define who you are to others? I would hope not, but based on that experience, that was what we were to them. Animals. No good. Untouchables. Why couldn't they see beyond that? Even if the disease was real, I would ask that they treat me like a rabbit. Even if they had to stand at a far distance from me and put up a barrier, I would have liked to be treated like a rabbit. To have them talk to me instead of stare and run from me. I would have liked to be treated like anything other than an affliction.
Prompt: Have you ever mixed water and cornstarch? When you do, it looks very watery and runny, but if you have the right amount of each, when you press a finger or spoon into it, it becomes hard. Write about something that appears one way, but is (or acts like) something else
This was very fun to write, even though it's a serious story. Isn't it funny how stories can end up serious but you had a blast writing them? :)
