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by Sarah
Rated: · Short Story · Satire · #1753361
A very bad story that I worked pretty hard on :)
"Hounded down by everyone. Met with hatred everywhere. No kind words from anyone. No compassion anywhere..."
-The Phantom of the Opera, Andrew Lloyd Webber

They said he was born under a fiery red sky, implanting within him the evils they feared. As if determined to prove their claims, nature gifted him with eyes redder than rose petals, and his skin seemed transparent, so pale you could see the pink of his blood, as if his skin were made of glass. His town was one that lived in fear. How such an abomination came to exist in their village, none of them could tell, but he terrified them.
It was decided that his mother, a young girl who died before she could even hold him in her arms, must have been the source. There were rumors that she had been selling herself for money secretly, and the father was never discovered. They were glad one such as she had died before any more harm could be done to them. The child was obviously her punishment, a demon sent to kill her for her sins.
All that was left to do was determine who would keep the child, for despite their fear of its sinful nature, it was against their laws to murder. If Satan himself walked into their village surrounded with white hot flames and leaving ashy footprints in his wake, they would fearfully treat him as an honored guest rather than do away with him and all his evils.
After long and angry debates, one frail widow, called Widow Saddler, finally lifted her hand and spoke in a strong voice from the back of the room,
“I will take the devil into my home. For heaven sake, he is just a child. He cannot have learned to give in to his evil nature already. Don’t worry, I will raise him and cast out the devils that possess him.”
The Widow looked at them all, lying to save the child from a fearful upbringing. She had lived longer than most everyone in the room, and she knew the difference between a deformity and a demon.
The town greatly honored her for being so brave, and she was given a brand new house at the edge of town. They claimed it was a gift to her for sacrificing her own wellbeing for the sake of the town, but Widow Saddler was not to be deceived. She could see that they wanted her and the babe as far from them as possible.
The child was placed in her arms, sleeping peaceful and unaware of the uproar he was causing in the village. Widow Saddler looked down at the child’s face and saw that his skin was a rosy pink, pinker than any baby she had ever seen. The child yawned and opened his eyes, and Widow Saddler looked down into two beautifully intense, red eyes.
“You don’t look like a devil child to me,” she whispered to him, and he seemed to understand her as he looked back into her own gray eyes.
So the boy was allowed to live, and, Widow Saddler named him Gideon after the biblical hero, as if to cross out the supposed evil inside him. The villagers believed themselves merciful for sparing Gideon, but they continued to treat him as a demon in their midst. His skin retained its pinkish tint, and his hair grew almost as red as his eyes. As he grew older, the children refused to play with him, whispering to each other as he walked gloomily down the street. Adults shut their doors as he walked by, swearing at the tavern that they saw spirits circling his head and whispering to him. Because he was time and again patronized for being evil, Gideon soon began to believe that he truly was evil. He kept himself away from the people in an effort to protect himself from their judgment, and to keep them safe from his menace. Widow Saddler tried to show Gideon that he was not what the people claimed, but he could not see it. He grew up in fear of himself and his neighbors.
“And when I saw Clarice pick up a stone, I ran back here,” Gideon said to Widow Saddler one night at dinner. “Honestly, mother, I think I should stay home forever. Someday, someone will actually throw the first stone at me, and then what? I’ll be dead! It would be better for everyone if I stayed home.”
“Don’t let them scare you Gideon,” she replied. “They just can’t see past your unusual appearance. This town is full of cowards who run from anything different. Don’t let them define you.”
Gideon sighed and looked out the window at the sky.
“There’s a girl out there!” he exclaimed suddenly.
Widow Saddler barely had time to look up before he was outside kneeling next to a fragile girl about the same age as him. She had collapsed at the front gate of the village, and she was covered in purple bruises. Gideon picked her up and carried her into the house. He placed her gently on the rug next to the fire.
“She’s not from the village, I don’t recognize her,” said Widow Saddler.
“She’s very pretty, isn’t she, mother?” asked Gideon, touching the girl’s soft cheek.
Widow Saddler gently pushed Gideon aside and began to examine the girl.
“Oh dear, her whole body is covered in bruises. Go wait outside, Gideon, while I get her into some new clothes and treat her wounds.”
Gideon obediently waited outside as Widow Saddler bathed the girl and put her in a white nightdress. She retrieved a blanket and a pillow from her bedroom and created a bed for her until she woke up. Gideon came back inside and sat down next to the girl. He stayed there most of the night and was there in the morning when Widow Saddler came in.
“She woke up briefly last night, mother,” he said. “Her eyes… one of them is missing, but her other one is very lovely.”
He looked down at the girl and waited anxiously for her wake up once more. Late into the afternoon, the girl finally opened her eyes. When she saw Gideon, she screamed and scrambled away from him. Widow Saddler ran and calmed her down and eventually convinced her that Gideon was not going to hurt her. The girl walked tentatively closer and touched Gideon’s hand, marveling at its strange color. Finally deciding he was safe, she apologized for acting so rudely and smiled sweetly at Gideon.
“I have never seen someone with eyes quite like yours,” she said with a heavy accent. “They are rather pretty though,” she added with a blush.
Gideon melted then, and he felt he would never care so much for another person in the world. She was indeed missing her right eye, but it was no hindrance to her beauty. She was thin and pale, and her golden hair hung down around her shoulders in lovely curls. The girl told them her name was Delilah and that she was also an orphan like Gideon.
Delilah never revealed her origins to Gideon or the Widow, and neither of them cared to know. They could sense she had lived a hard life full of abuse, but her personality and beauty were not affected by her past. She seemed an angel, always helping and treating both Gideon and the Widow as her own family. However, Delilah’s decision to stay with Gideon and the Widow caused great unease in the village. The villagers felt something was being planned between the three, since they were constantly together. The leaders of the village decided to wait and watch for a sign of coming danger.
The years went by, and Delilah and Gideon became inseparable. Because of her own deformity, Delilah did not believe there was anything wrong with Gideon. She continually stated that she thought his eyes were two of the most beautiful she had ever seen. Gideon loved her more than even he could say. When he was with Delilah, his fears of the evil soul he believed he contained disappeared entirely. The town, however, grew increasingly nervous of their new friendship. They feared a day would come when, together, Delilah and Gideon would unleash a dark and blazing fire upon their village. They began to meet in the church, discussing the fate of Gideon. They decided it was time to act and prevent the disaster that was surely coming.
It happened one day as Gideon and Delilah were strolling through the forest just outside the stone walls. They came upon a rose bush planted next to their path. It rested beneath the trees, watching them as they gazed at its beautiful red flowers. Gideon reached out and touched one of the flowers, entranced by their simply beauty. He had never seen a rose before, or anything so startlingly red as him. He had come to think that only evil creatures were painted red. He had thought that red was the mark God had branded him with as punishment, and yet here was a simple flower painted a deep and beautiful red.
“Not everything the village tells you is truth,” Delilah told him. “You are not red like fire, but red like roses.”
For the first time, Gideon began to think that maybe he was good. Maybe his red eyes were only something different, something beautiful. Gideon looked a Delilah and kissed her, tears forming in both their eyes. A burden was lifted and the sun peaked through the treetops, shining on the lovers and their happiness. Delilah took Gideon’s hand and they walked back into the village.
As they were strolling towards the house, a man crept out of the shadows beside it. He wore the robes of the church, and Gideon soon recognized him as Pastor Ranford.
“Good afternoon, Ranford,” said Gideon.
“Good afternoon, Gideon, Delilah,” said the pastor coolly.
Gideon and Delilah continued towards the door, the pastor watching them silently. Gideon began to feel uneasy as the pastor began to walk slowly towards him. Suddenly out from the shadows came more of the villagers. They held weapons and all of them glared at Gideon and Delilah as they approached.
“Gideon, we have let this go on long enough,” began Pastor Ranford. “Too long we have had to watch as you terrified those around you. You are surrounded by evil! We must stop you now before we are all consumed by your evil. We know of your plans and we will stop you. Our children will not have to live with the fear that has hung over our heads for twenty long years.”
“What are you saying? What do you mean?” asked Gideon, growing increasingly anxious as more and more people appeared.
They had formed a circle around Gideon and Delilah, trapping them from escape.
“We are here to end you before you can end us,” replied Pastor Ranford gravely.
The people suddenly lunged at Gideon, and Delilah screamed as they knocked him to the ground and began to tie him up. Hearing the commotion, Widow Saddler came outside and gasped at the sight.
“What is the meaning of this?” she cried. “Gideon has done nothing wrong! From the day he was born you have believed him to be evil, but I have lived with him! I raised him! I know him better than all of you! He is not evil. If anyone in this town deserves to be punished, it is you for harming someone so innocent!”
A few men grabbed her and covered her mouth to keep her silent.
“Gideon, prepare to die for your sins!” yelled Pastor Ranford. “We will be rid of you tomorrow! Take him to the prison.”
Delilah cried out and reached for Gideon as the men picked him up and dragged him away. She sank to her knees sobbing as the last villager disappeared. Widow Saddler came to her, picked her up off her knees, and led her inside.
“It’s not fair!” she cried. “To kill him simply because his eyes are red! Simply because he is different! Look at my eyes! Why am I not also accused of being a demon? Because my deformity can be explained, they allow me to live. Gideon was forced into his skin and eyes and hair, he did not ask for it, and yet they treat him as if he jumped from Hell, donning red skin and eyes in order to kill them all. Just because they can’t explain it, they accuse him of being a demon.”
Widow Saddlers quieted her and sat her down by the fire. Delilah sobbed quietly, her head buried in her hands. She cried for a long time, and refused to eat or drink anything.
“Where is the prison?” Delilah cried suddenly. “I must go to him!”
Gideon lay quiet in a freezing cell. There was nothing in it but himself and a pile of straw to sleep on. Gideon looked up at the moon shining into his cell through the barred window. It seemed lonely and dark this night. Gideon sighed and silently wished that God would spare him the punishment he had placed on him.
“Why have you made me like this? What did I do to deserve this?”
Suddenly the moon was replaced with Delilah’s face. Gideon jumped up and went to the window. It was up higher than he could reach, but he looked up at Delilah, much happier than he had been a few moments ago.
“Gideon!” she whispered. “Are you hurt?”
He told her he was fine, lying to keep her from getting upset. In reality, the men who had thrown him in the cell beat Gideon before leaving. They cursed him and told him he must go back to the pit he came from.
“I’m going to get you out of here,” whispered Delilah. “I managed to steal the key from the sheriff. Wait for me and I’ll have you out in a second.”
Before he could protest, Delilah was gone. Gideon went to the door of his cell and waited until Delilah appeared. She opened the door and the two of them crept out quietly.
“What are we going to do now?” asked Gideon.
“We leave this place and never come back,” answered Delilah, taking Gideon’s hand.
She led him to Widow Saddler’s house and took him inside. The widow was relieved to see Gideon. She took him into her arms and sobbed. Gideon held her until her tears stopped flowing.
“We’ll have to leave now,” began Gideon, when the Widow had released him. “Mother, go and pack some clothes while I get some food.”
“Gideon,” Widow Saddler murmured, “I’m staying here.”
Gideon stopped and turned to look at his mother.
“I’m too old. I would never make the trip. I have to stay here and let you and Delilah go on without me.”
“Mother!” cried Gideon. “Mother I will carry you if I have to. You must come with us!”
He looked at her, imploring her to agree, but she only shook her head. Gideon turned angrily and began to gather food. Delilah helped him and soon they were ready to go. They stood at the door and Widow Saddler hugged Delilah and Gideon one last time.
“Goodbye, my son,” she whispered. Gideon held her and then took Delilah’s hand and walked out of the house.
Gideon and Delilah left the village and entered the forest. As they approached the rose bush, Gideon stopped and looked at it. He stooped down and pulled out a knife. He cut off one of the roses and stood up, holding it in his hand.
Suddenly a man appeared behind Gideon.
“I have found them!” he shouted. “I told you this is where they would come! I knew they’d make a break for it!”
Pastor Ranford and a group of men ran out from behind the trees and quickly circled Delilah and Gideon.
“How dare you try to escape your just punishment!” cried Ranford. “I will see to it myself that this world is rid of your wickedness!”
Pastor Ranford brought a dagger out of his robes and before either could react, Gideon was on the ground, and Delilah was screaming. She fell down next to Gideon, weeping.
“Do not cry for him, dear girl,” said Pastor Ranford to Delilah. “For he is wicked, and now you are free. We are all free.”
With those words, the pastor and the men left Delilah and Gideon alone by the rose bush.
“Gideon…” moaned Delilah.
Gideon reached a shaky hand up to her face, and smiled at her.
“I am free now, too, Delilah,” he whispered, and then his hand dropped, and he was gone.
The rose was still clasped in his other hand, and as he slipped away, it fell onto the ground. Delilah picked it up and looked at the flower. Already it was beginning to wilt, as if it, too, had been murdered. The thunder began to rumble, and Delilah kissed Gideon’s face and stood up. She looked up at the sky as lightening streaked across it, and then she walked on into the forest, leaving a trail of tears behind her.
The rosebush watched from its shady spot under the tree, and as the rain began to fall, it seemed to shed tears for Gideon and Delilah.
© Copyright 2011 Sarah (wordy007 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1753361-Red