We Had Made A Wish
The knife digs deep into the flesh. Blood trickles out of the incision before becoming a constant stream. “A little further. Just a bit more,” he says encouragingly. “How much does it need for what I want?” She asks, trying to mask her pain. “The sacrifice must be willing. The pain must be absorbed and abolished,” the others remind her. “It says a little bit more. For what you seek costs more than the last. You must give more than the last time,” he decrees. His serious tone does not line up with his facial expressions. Her hand shakes against the handle of the knife. The shock of what it is she must do begins to set in as the adrenaline of her actions fades. There isn’t much left of her leg. Too many demands and not enough supply. She begins to fear that she is not worthy, a disappointment. The excess blood runs down her and onto the hardwood floor. No one pleads for her to stop as she continues to dig into her exposed flesh. “How much are you willing to give for what you want?” He asks her, sensing her hesitation as the knife works slower against the skin. “As much as it takes,” she says defiantly. “He says he doesn’t believe you.”
He watches as the knife carves flesh from bone with increased determination. She does not waver as she continues to cut out the last of the pattern forming on her thigh. “Please believe me,” she demands as she fights back the tears. Her face grows pale as the blood continues to flow down her leg and onto the floor. “Does it hurt?” He asks. “Yes,” she answers, trying not to scream. “Good,” he smiles with pride. “Pound for pound. Flesh for flesh. Rewards will be reaped for what it is we want,” she chants with the others. “The sacrifice is worth the effort,” he calls back. She drops the decorative and sacred knife onto the hardwood floor with a thud. Before she stands up and presents the flesh to him with outstretched hands. “You may rest,” he commands as he takes the flesh from her hands. She lets off a small smile before collapsing back into the chair behind her. The neighbors that have been watching rush to her aid as he walks the sacrifice to the altar. The bloody mass dripping through the cracks of his hands and onto the familiar path stained into the floor. “Your debit has been paid. Our rewards await us all,” he calls out joyfully. Her eyelids grow heavy as those around her smile with admiration. “He is pleased,” is all she hears before passing out.
The sun rises and the sun sets. The days go on as they always have. In a neighborhood such as this the clock doesn’t ever stop turning even for those that have given so much already. The days go on minute by minute, but there is always a price to pay for such luxuries. The SUV parks into its usual spot in front of the usual home. All smiles, the man emerges from the massive vehicle greeted by the bright afternoon sun. “What another beautiful day,” he says out loud to himself. Each moment worth more than the last as the hourglass of life slips on by. His neighbors pull into their driveways all around him. Each one of their massive houses taking in the afternoon sun. Only the finest things for those that are lucky enough to live in this exclusive neighborhood. Only the finest things for those willing to give any and everything to achieve their dreams. He smiles and waves as each of them do the same in return. The seasons come and go. With each passing season comes a chance for something more. The day is beautiful, sunny, and full. Summer however is coming to an end. The fall equinox is approaching fast.
“How I hope it isn’t me this time,” he thinks as he collects his mail. Admiring his manicured and bright green lawn. Not a single blade of grass out of place. Mail clutched in his hand he makes his way up the long driveway and his other hand is still waving at those around him. “How I hope it isn’t me,” he thinks selfishly. He opens the door into his home. The smell of fresh baked chicken greets him. “How was work?” His wife’s voice echoes throughout the home from the kitchen. “Another beautiful day, my love,” his voice echoes back as he makes his way to greet her. “It won’t last much longer,” she reminds him as he enters the kitchen. “I pray God will smile on us for a few more days,” he tells her, ignoring her worried tone. “Are you ready?” She asks in a serious tone. “If chosen I am always ready and prepared. You know that,” his confidence extinguishes her concerns. “How I hope it is us that is blessed this time around,” she smiles. “Me too my love, me too,” he lies, placing the mail on the long island between the two of them. “This Sunday will be our turn,” she says confidently. “We have gone too long without our turn,” she says, glancing around the kitchen in disappointment. “Dinner is almost done, I take it?” He asks to change the subject. She nods before removing the chicken from the perfectly fine oven and turning over the asparagus spears. “I better hurry up and get ready then,” he says before exiting the kitchen that grows outdated by the minute.
He makes his way to the sweeping stairs that leads to the second floor of his oversized home. Taking each step with solace and care as the weight of the coming equinox lays heavy on his mind. “It is times like these that we should be grateful for what it is we give up,” he thinks to himself. “It is times like this though when everything feels the hardest,” he admits to himself, pushing open his bedroom door. He closes the door behind him and he quickly gets undressed. His wife has already laid out his evening wear for him on their massive bed. Not quite pajamas, but not as formal as his work attire. Casual clothes for a casual man. His scars on display across the mirror behind him. “Pound for pound. Flesh for flesh,” he thinks before taking a quick shower. A price to pay that is worth the cost of admission he would admit without question to anyone that might ask. Scars that they all bear for what anyone would consider a better life. The best life they would argue. A life full of smiles and blessed days. A life with only the finest things and anything anyone could ever ask for. “Pound for pound. Flesh for flesh. Rewards will be reaped for what it is we want,” he practices in his head. The night goes as it always does. The same routine plays out all around him as the sunsets and the evening settles in. “There is a price to pay to get what you want in this world.,” he thinks as he closes his eyes for the night. Not all houses on this street though have settled in for the night.
“Please,” the man pleads on his knees. “I got you the skins that you demanded and more will be coming in a few days. Why must you need more? Always more?” He questions alone. His knees pressing hard against the blood-stained floor before the altar of their Lord. He rocks back and forth below the massive uneven scales as he listens for a reply at the ornate statue’s feet. “I know the debt must be paid. We all know that the debt must be paid and we pay it. Joy does not come without sacrifice. We know, master. We know,” his voice shakes as he clenches his hands tighter. “What you ask is too much. No one could give so much. No one has the strength to survive such a demand,” he confesses. His body goes rigid as though a force has taken over control of his restless body. “Please no,” he begs as radiating pain begins to shoot through every nerve ending in his body. “I didn’t mean it like that,” he cries out. “I didn’t mean it couldn’t be done,” he exhales through gritted teeth as the pain grows more intense. Tears begin to form as he shakes helplessly from the pain. “I know what must be done,” he pleads through the pain. The pain slowly subsides as the unseen force allows him control of his body once again. Without hesitation he lays his head upon the statue’s feet. “I understand what must be done,” he whispers as the last of the pain leaves his body. The altar towers above him as he regains his composer. “Enough is never enough. I understand your words. I understand your words master. I will get you more. I will get you all that you desire as you do for us,” he confirms returning to a kneel position. “The sacrifice will be made. All of it will be paid. I promise my lord,” he says with confidence as though he was never in pain at all. “By any means necessary,” he smiles drunk with power. “Any means necessary.” …
Find Out What Happens Next… Only In…
Broken Thoughts Vol. 3: Chasing Ghosts
Short Stories
Poems
Broken Thoughts
All In One Collection
Chewing On Glass... 
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