-Unwritten

[Words to Image. This random image really pulled at me heart strings. And this is the story it wanted me to write.]

Every evening at 10:30, Oculani would perch atop her throne of human bones and scribe the names of tomorrow's deceased. She spent the next hour and a half transferring the names from the Ever-Knowing pages onto the Mighty Stone of Endings. Once written, each name burst into flames and scorched the solid surface of the stone, fire carving them into existence for the next day. Once there, they were set. Death was inevitable for the unlucky entries. Tomorrow brought about their end. When nighttime came again, the slate was bare in preparation for new ones.

One dark evening, Oculani opened her book of names, as usual. One by one, she wrote the flames and watched them pass toward the headstone. She paused. What was this? she thought. She saw her own name. How could this be? She had spent countless millennia as keeper of fate and in fact held no life within herself. She, too, had been set in stone and couldn't quite remember a life before that time.

She studied the entries and discovered that all flames prior were nowhere to be found on her list of those still alive. Somehow, the book of Ever-Knowing had made a mistake and repeated a page of entries that had long since passed. These following thoughts crossed her mind.

Should she go through the motions and write them in, treating the situation as if it were just another session, as she always did? Or opt to make no entries due to everyone on the list already being dead? But what would that mean in the grand scale of events? Would it disrupt the natural order of things? She decided to scribe them in as is, allowing the responsibility of outcome to fall on the book. And this she did.

And then came her most challenging thought. She eventually reached her own name. If she were to 'not' include it, would it somehow erase her responsibility as servant of death and possibly give her her life back? Was this even possible? She had an hour and a half to complete her task and she was twenty minutes shy. There was one single name after hers and she must decide on her own thoughts to write in the last before the time was up. She knew this must be completed by a definite time allowance. She just didn't know whether to gamble on her name or accept what was. The temptation was much too confusing. She thought. And thought. She watched the time tick away, second by second, realizing that a decision had to be made before the last five seconds. This would allow her enough time to scribe in hers and the last before the deadline. if this is what she chose. The last needed to be added, regardless of her decision but she couldn't simply skip over hers to do so. The order had never been an option. Or could it now?

The time continued to tick away. Each tick grew ever so loud to her ears. She suspected that the entire universe could hear it and was watching to see what she would do. It was torture. A possibility that was uncertain but right at her fingertips. What to do? Fifteen seconds left and her dead heart felt as if it were alive and beating again, rapidly. The pen of fire shook in her hand. Her body trembled. Ten seconds left. Her body remembered the sensation of sweating, but she was unable to do so. Yet, it tortured her, still. Eight seconds. She was mere seconds away and the pull was unbearable. A decision had to be made, and now. Seven ... six ... five.

Oculani steadied her pen, closed both eyes, and reached forward. Would she write two names or just one? She felt the pen tap the pages and its heat increase. Now, just move it to the right. It started to scribe fate. A fate which was already at play but one that could possibly be a new one, by removing one entry. She allowed her heart to control the movements of pen on its own. When she felt it was done, she paused before lifting off the page. One last look before it burst into flames. Would she have to write the last name, or had she just done so? She opened her eyes and looked.

[The end of this story should be written by what you, the reader, sees. If you desire to live again, do so. Do not write yourself off. You have an option. Take it. Live again. Today can be your moment to decide. If you are saddened or not living the life you dream of ... write a new one. If you just read this, you still hold the pen. You can!]