After 23 years of waiting, I was woken up today by the sound of crying. My people were weeping with joy.

I was led by the one of the elders outside to see. Everyone was looking in the same direction with tears streaming--they were looking to the East.

For from the East a figure was moving towards us. He rode a six-legged tiger, and behind him trailed a cape of feathers.

But most remarkable of all was his hair.

It shone like wheat in the sun, as if it were pure gold.

We all knew. The elder beside me struggled not to fall to the ground, overcome with emotion. We felt saved. If the prophecy was true, then this meant rebirth. No more starvation, no more suffering.

But I could not cry. I stood completely still, disconnected from my surroundings. I said nothing. I watched numbly as this savior rode towards us, moving my people to unabashed praise.

Above all, I felt afraid.

All my life I had yearned to be taken away, desperate for my journey to begin. Every night I prayed for the wheels to be set in motion, and now that they were, I wanted nothing more than to disappear forever.
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Story © norree