A Quest;looking for gods

It was the middle of the night,probably, Christine had just woken up from a nightmare. Heart thumping and breath heaving violently through her gasping mouth,she tried to figure out exactly what had been so terrifying in the dream.

Even as she tried to recall it the details faded.

She tremblingly lay back down in her crib and thought

-ofcourse I would have nightmares! What with what happened today...

She remembered how disquieting she had found the father's subdued attitude as the mother settled them in and greeted the visitors.

Christine could not believe how she hadn't noticed before how young every adult looked,and was surprised as the mother address a woman as grandmother and another as mother...they were the fathers mother and paternal grandmother-Christine also found out today that her mother was an orphan that had been raised by the woman she addressed as grandmother.

This woman,a blue eyed,dark haired pale woman was the mother of the father's father, and she seemed to be in charge of the gathering. She looked at most to be 29 years old in the eyes of Christine-so many questions...where would she even begin to ask, should she ask.

Her name was never spoken.

The mother who Christine had found out some time ago to be named Caprice,called her formally as Grandmother, others did the same and some called her "high sapphire ". She didn't believe that was a name, the differential way they called her this made her think it may be a tittle of sorts.

Christine had been looked at by her in an appraising manner that made her tremble. She was then handed over by the "high sapphire " to her father who carried her in his arms and took her to what must be his study,a somber, starkly furnished room she had never been in before. He then proceeded to ignore her.

She was used to him wishing she did not exist,so she spent the time centering herself as the thoughts racing in her head left her unbalanced...on the brink of giving in to all she held at bay.

Her strength of will astonished her,she knew it was easier to balance the pain when she had not a real body even as it had felt all too real. She knew it was easier because of how difficult it was since she had incarnated,every time she became excited or anxious or even hungry,she felt the churning agony circulating in her body as it destabilized,rising in her like a rancid, twisted miasma of poisonous gas, choking her,making heard it to breathe or to think, making her wishing she was back in the interminable isolation of what had been her last death.

She had been disturbed in her meditation by hunger. But before she could wordlessly voice her need to the father, the door had burst open.

Leading what looked to be a charge of irate women was her mother with a large tray of victuals,as she passed by the fathe who had popped up to his feet at the abrupt opening of the door,she muttered something at him that Christine could not make out. He then walked to the door and slipped out as the last lady walked in,quietly closing the door behind him.

Her mother placed the tray on the floor in front of her. She was sitting where her father had placed her in the square of daylight that made it past the drawn curtain of the darkened room where he had sat unmoving looking at the air in front of him.

The food when it was uncovered turned out to be her regular lunch time meal.

Christine,in order to regulate her emotions and body,tried to keep a strict and regular schedule. For breakfast she would only eat what she termed a full farmhouse breakfast of cornmeal porridge, eggs,sausage, brown bread(toasted),mushrooms and tea. For lunch she would have a leafy salad, cold meat sandwiches,pie and fruit juice. For supper she would have a vegetable soup, a protein based stew with a grain food like rice, followed by fruit with ice cream. She ate nuts and dried fruits for snacks in between the meals. The schedule and menu had been developed by her and her mother through terrible trial and error filled with screaming and what she thought were unnecessary doctors visits. Now they were a well oiled machine.

She felt the first stir of hunger and her mother brought her food.

The women settled themselves in silence about the room as Christine unreservedly set about her meal without thought of all the eyes on her. Having polished of her meal, she looked about at the crowd around her slowly blinking her eyes as post cranial somnolence settled slowly on her like a warm,soft blanket.

Her mother started tidying up the tray with its plate and as she did so she started talking.

"As I said before ", she began calmly;" he has said she was a demon,I couldn't believe him,she was miserable and ill,not even meeting basic milestones. But since she was discharged from the ICU,when she was five months old she has been doing more than well,she doesn't try to talk but as you can see,she has the appetite of an adult,is as big as a toddler, she can walk and for the past two months in the afternoon she engages in what looks like Tai Chi exercise. Others who have come across also think she is a demon and keep their children away so she has been isolated. "; finishing with this she took the tray and left the room,leaving Christine with the women.

The blue eyed pale women knelt down before her and wiped her face with a moist wipe that smelled of vanilla before leaning back and speaking in a rather deep voice;" child,you're only 11months old and from what Caprice has said about you we believe that you can understand everything said to you." Her body seemed to become more stiff as she continued;" demon children can talk,but sometimes disabled children present like demon children, but they get found out because they cannot talk. If you're not a demon, you will be destroyed. Demons are accepted because they make the world better but those born with disabilities that are masked by extraordinary growth and development have always turned into terrorists. You are only 11months old, so we can keep you hidden until the native blood test,but if you have not spoken until then,you will be destroyed. Today we are here to decide whether to destroy you ourselves or hide you,to determine this you must talk,or try to talk ."

Christine qualed inside. She pulled her gaze away and looked at the stern, unsympathetic faces looking down at her.

- TALK?!