14 Years

14 Years

Delhi Private School, Sharjah


The moon’s sacrifice|Mystical story by Yachna,12, Sharjah

Did the moon’s sacrifice ensure peace and prosperity for this world? 12 year-old Yachna from Sharjah, writes a mystical story exploring a world created with a sacrifice of love as its foundation.

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The moon’s sacrifice 

An autumn tree, a winter bird, a summer lake, a blooming flower of spring. Isn’t it wonderful?

The ethereal beauty of nature?

Isn’t it wonderful how all exist in one world? The fire and water, the earth and wind. All of them, though opposites, come together to create this wonderful world and live in harmony.

Years ago, a sacrifice was made, a sacrifice for the creation of this world. A sacrifice which needed someone to be burned to death in the sun’s presence or be shattered to pieces in her absence.

That someone is me, the moon. It’s been years, years since I felt her hand brush against mine, years since we could be present with each other, together.

It is the sun, yes, the sun, whom everyone waits for, it is because of her that everything on this planet lives. It is because of her that I live.

While one is awake the other is asleep, while one smiles brightly, the other cries in fright, the fright of never meeting, of never feeling each other’s presence. Sometimes I wonder- was it better before the world was created, when I could still smell her scent, brush the fallen autumn leaves off her lush blonde hair and admire her beauty as she glows?

Would it indeed be better if the world was never made?  If we didn’t have to make a sacrifice? A sacrifice which would separate both of us for the existence of humans who deceive others, humans who don’t empathize with others, humans who never care about their loved ones?

 And was it worth it? The sacrifice for the creation of this materialistic world?

A question always left unanswered.

This world is like a photo frame. No matter how much gold you decorate it with, no matter how many sleepless nights were spent on it, it is worthless, worthless without a picture in it. A picture which has emotions of perhaps the birth of one in this world, or perhaps the picture of a loved one who has been passed on to the hands of the Lord.

This world can be decorated with huge buildings of many colours, or even people of many diversities. But it always remains incomplete. Perhaps that was my curse to the world. The world which had given me sorrow. Its people have done nothing but tarnish the earth, ruined its waters, awakened the anger of the fire and wind.

The mere presence of this world is nothing but a curse, a curse to its creators.

Years have gone by, and everything has changed. No, it isn’t the trees or the birds, not the frozen water at the crown of the earth- it is the humans who have become different.

The humans who had learned to live in harmony, the humans who vowed to protect everyone and everything in it; it is they who have changed, they who started a war, they who continue to hurt everyone.

I still remember the horrified face of the sun before she slept; the way she was trembling left me confused. But my confusion lasted only until I saw it, the sight which should have been hidden: the whole world in  a war of jealousy, a war which brought destruction, a war whose terrors could not be described in a name. I can never forget those innocent people, their children, those innocent faces lost in bloodshed.

I went to him, the Lord, begging him to finish the world. Begging him to let me meet the sun again. But he denied my pleading.

“Give them another chance!” he said, referring to those humans, “They are still learning about this world, they will soon go on the right path and pay heed to me. Don’t worry, this war will end soon.”

It has been years since the he spoke those words. And yet the matter rose again 21 years later, when everything had been destroyed.

When I had been asked to sacrifice my love I was also given a power. Power which allowed people to sleep, to see the earth through my perspective. But the power due to which people worship me is all a sham in front of love.

It is today that I have decided not to let regret take over me. Years from now, humans may find a way to destroy me and I will be left with nothing but regret, the regret of staying away from the sun so I could protect these people.

It is today that destruction must be caused not by humans but me, not by the fire’s anger but me, not by the wind’s force but me, not the water’s pressure, but me.

I’m here for her, the sun. I look into her eyes filled with terror, she cries.

“No! You can’t, we can’t do this. It will harm those we sacrificed our love for.”

But nobody can stop me, not even her. I embrace her, feeling the heat. I can feel her breath slowing down. It isn’t me in pain but her.

How? Why isn’t her heat affecting me?

She starts disappearing bit by bit, the bright light fading away. I pull away from her, but it is too late. She is gone. There is no light, none, in my life, nor in the lives of those that I loathe.

I am left alone yet again, regret hitching within me.

There is now no light on earth. None.

I curse in anger; I curse the earth, so that whenever people look up at me, they should be given my pain in their lives even if it is through the means of death.

I greet the elements one last time before I disappear too.

There will be a new moon and sun. They will also have the same story as ours, and a sacrifice will be made by them. A sacrifice for love.

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