The sky was a canvas of angry, swirling gray, promising a deluge. Fine lines of lightning danced across the clouds, leaving fleeting sparks in their wake. My mind, lost in the storm, wondered what secrets those lines held.
"Noman?"
The abrupt call snapped me out of my reverie. I blinked, taking in my surroundings. Aunt Martha, her face a storm cloud of its own, stood before me, hands on her hips.
"Yes, Aunt Martha?" I scrambled to my feet, realizing I'd passed out on the cold, hard floor outside my room. I had no recollection of how I'd fallen.
She hissed at the drool on my face, which I quickly wiped away. "Put on a shirt and go grab the clothes from the rope. It's about to rain." With a final, exasperated sigh, she turned and marched towards her room.
My illusion, it seemed, was no illusion at all.
If I didn't know better, I'd think she wished me dead. But she loved me, once, like a son.
As I turned to go inside, a sharp pain shot through my lower arm. I hissed, raising my arm to inspect the fresh, small cut. My fall this time hadn't been as severe as the last.
I grabbed a shirt from my room and stepped outside. The cold air clawed at my skin, a sensation I would have relished if I weren't sick. But I had been sick for so long, it felt like a permanent state.
Sighing, I pushed the negative thoughts to the back of my mind. I'd wished for better health for so long, I'd almost come to accept this as the best I could hope for. I'd learned to live with it.
Lightning flashed across the sky, urging me to hurry. I grabbed the dry clothes from the rope, throwing them over my shoulder and dashing back inside, but not before a few raindrops splashed my face.
Securing the clothes in Aunt Martha's room, I let my eyes wander, mesmerized by the dimly lit space. It was the most organized room I'd ever seen.
Back in my room, I glanced at the wall clock. It was 9 pm. My bed, as messy as I was, had been made. Just as I was about to collapse onto it, a knock echoed from the front door.
A sigh escaped my lips.
"It's time for my appointment," I murmured, turning away. I kicked aside the books blocking the door and stepped into the living room, bathed in the yellowish glow of a single lamp. Familiar faces greeted me, and my confidence crumbled.
"Come sit over here, boy," Doctor Phillip, a middle-aged man with gray hair and glasses as large as his coarse palms, beckoned me. He didn't try to hide his affection for my aunt, his eyes practically drooling over her. I couldn't understand how she didn't see it.
I walked towards him, knowing he only wanted me closer so he could inch closer to Aunt Martha.
I settled into the longest chair in the room, leaving ample space between us.
His cunning eyes met mine through his glasses, a silent warning to shift closer. But he knew my stubborn streak and gave up.
Doctor Phillip cleared his throat and pulled out a file. "I've managed to analyze Noman's health," he said, his eyes darting to Aunt Martha, who was focused on her husband. With a sigh, he returned his attention to the file. "Due to his sickle cell and how rapidly it's been increasing, his constellation appearance might never appear."
I heard Aunt Martha's sharp gasp and Uncle Paul's silent groan.
I sat there, barely registering his words.
Before Doctor Phillip could continue, Martha interrupted. "B-but that's bad," she exclaimed. "That would mean he's useless, Phillip!"
"Calm down, woman," Paul said in his deep, authoritative voice, silencing Martha instantly. He turned to Phillip, leaning forward, fingers intertwined. "You said last time that he doesn't have much time to live?"
Doctor Phillip nodded. "Yes—"
Paul cut him off. "Have you come up with a solution for that?"
Doctor Phillip remained silent for a moment. Then, finally, he spoke. "I had a patient with sickle cell. She didn't have much time left. I was able to change that. But Noman's is increasing rapidly, twelve times the pace of the normal increase. However, I'm seeing progress." His eyes shifted to Martha.
I knew he was lying. I could see it in his eyes. But I knew he said it to prevent Aunt Martha from having a heart attack.
"Can I speak with you for a minute, Paul?" Doctor Phillip requested. Paul nodded at Martha and me, and we left the room.
Aunt Martha headed for the kitchen, but not before making sure I went to my room. I peeked out to make sure she was gone, then tiptoed outside. I wasn't close enough to hear their conversation, but I knew the construction of this house well enough to know that every word would reach different ears.
I listened, knowing it was about me.
"He doesn't have much time," Doctor Phillip whispered.
"How long?" Uncle Paul's calmness remained.
"Regretfully, a year… or hopefully two."
Silence stretched between them.
Finally, Paul spoke. "That's low," he said. "He's only fourteen."
"There's nothing to stop those cells from rapidly generating. And this is affecting the strength of his constellation."
"The constellation date is tomorrow."
"Only luck can help him now, Paul."
Surprisingly, this wasn't news to me. Last year, I watched a sickler get stoned to death for failing to bring out his constellation. I'd wondered what it felt like to be stoned to death. Tomorrow might be my lucky day.
I tiptoed back to my room.
Aunt Martha announced dinner, but I skipped it. I had no appetite.
I lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling, and began the countdown of my life here.
I didn't know how long I stayed awake, but I saw an owl perched on my open window as I drifted off to sleep.
Was that a sign of my death?
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Birds chirped, their feathers flickering with excitement as dawn broke.
I opened my eyes to the bright light. I'd forgotten to shut the window before falling asleep.
I stumbled out of bed, momentarily forgetting my surroundings. I aimlessly walked to the window to block out the brightness, and that's when I saw excited teenagers, giggling as they walked past in their fancy clothes.
"Shit…" I muttered, realization hitting me. "Constellation day." My head snapped to the wall clock. I was running late.
Aunt Martha would have woken me up, but she'd left for work early, with Paul accompanying her. I hadn't been born into a wealthy family. My mom had run off with a rich man after I was born, and my father had died before I was born. So, being under this roof was a privilege.
I'd never bathed so quickly. I ran past the breakfast left for me on the dining table and stepped out of the room. Why was I still going, despite a sickler being stoned to death last year? Well, he'd requested it, since his life felt worthless to him. And I couldn't just skip. My name was already on the list.
The constellation initiation was held by a huge river.
Parents accompanied their children, relatives cheering them on. It was a big celebration, a manhood celebration.
People my age stood close to the river, while their relatives watched from a distance. My washed pants and worn shirt made me stand out among the crowd as we formed a circle.
"Naomi Smith?" A voice boomed, causing absolute silence and a spike of anxiety in my chest.
I looked up at the group of men in royal purple robes. Four in total, representing the twelve constellations.
Naomi Smith was everyone's dream. Her silky blonde hair was so smooth it felt like ocean waves. She exuded an aura of wealth and confidence, but in this moment, her confidence faltered. She swallowed, trembling slightly with fear, but quickly regained her composure. "Present," she said, raising her hand gracefully.
The man who spoke continued. "Walk into the water until it reaches your neck, then strip off your clothes. After that, hold your breath, then move further into the water and let the water swallow you."
Naomi followed instructions, carefully entering the river. It was a sunny morning, but the water was undeniably cold.
I watched her walk further and further into the water, her body disappearing with each step. Soon, only her head remained above the surface. She turned her neck, as if giving us a final look, and then her body followed suit.
My eyes remained fixed on her as she slowly submerged, allowing the water to cover her until she disappeared from sight.
I'd never been this close to witnessing this. It couldn't be safe, could it?
I counted in my head. Thirty seconds passed, and she still hadn't resurfaced. The water looked too calm to have a body beneath it.
"Oh shit, she's drowned!" a girl beside me whispered in panic.
A wave of worry washed over me. I glanced at the four men, but none of them seemed concerned by her extended time underwater.
I counted to seventy-two seconds before I heard movement in the water. Naomi emerged, panting softly, a glint of determination in her eyes. Only her head was above the water.
One of the men in royal purple spoke. "Her endurance and resistance show she's a water sign. The lack of fear in her eyes shows she's a Scorpion."
Another prompted. "Come out now, child." A towel was thrown towards her, and she caught it effortlessly.
I could see the relief in her eyes as she began to walk out of the water. She was shaking, but she didn't let it show.
She walked straight towards the men, and one of them placed a necklace over her head, resting it on her neck.
"Samuel Adams?" the man in royal purple called.
The same procedure was followed. Samuel walked into the water until it reached his neck. Then disappeared.
I only counted four seconds before his head rose from the water, breathing hard.
"His impatience shows he's a fire sign. His intolerance shows how fixed he is. He's a lion."
A towel was thrown at him, and he wrapped it around his body, stepping out of the water.
There were thirty-five of us, and only seven remained, including me.
I'd learned that air signs found it hard to swim to the top, leaving a trail of bubbles as they struggled, while earth signs never made it up but were helped out of the water because they sink.
"Noman Angel?"
My heart skipped a beat. I raised my head, like the others had done. "Walk into the water until it reaches your neck, then strip off your clothes. After that, hold your breath, then move further into the water and let the water swallow you."
My bare feet touched the water, sending a chill through me. But I didn't let it deter me. I stepped into the water, feeling it rise around me. It was as cold as I'd expected.
I stopped when it reached my neck.
Then, with chattering teeth, I slowly pulled off my pants and unbuttoned my sleeves, watching them float away like the others.
Taking a deep breath, I walked further until I was submerged. For the first few seconds, I felt nothing. Then, suddenly, I was drowning. I struggled to get my head above the surface, but at the same time, I felt pulled down. I couldn't move up, and I couldn't sink.
I heard a voice shouting.
"He's stuck!"
A few seconds later, two middle-aged men grabbed my arms and pulled me up, just until I could stand on my own.
I waited for the men in purple to pronounce my fate.
"You possess none of the elemental signs." The words hung in the air, heavy and silent. All eyes were on me as I wrapped the towel around my body and walked out of the water.
I knew the result, but I couldn't help but wish for a different outcome. I could feel their judgment as I walked towards the men. He placed a necklace around my neck and directed me towards the others.
I looked down at my necklace. Unlike the others, which bore symbols of their signs, mine was vacant.