FIRST part of CHAPTER 1
Ziganths [pronounced: zig-ANTH-ssss]
It was just completely wrong. Being here was just completely wrong. Why did they have to travel to places like this and just take. Ziganths just hated himself. He hated his people. He just hated his race. He'd felt like this so long, centuries by human year-counts, but he was still merely a teenager among his people. He felt miserable knowing he was absolutely powerless among his own.
Zig felt horrible about everything his people, the Annunaki, stood for and everything they did. He didn't understand why almost all of his people felt it was their right to take anything they needed or desired and give nothing back. He understood the thought processing that made it right among the majority. He understood the theory. He just could not comprehend the ability to believe such things to the extent and in the way most of his people did. He couldn't believe that his race's mode of operation was a truly acceptable way of being and it certainly was not, so far as he was concerned, living. It was merely existing. Worse, even than survival. To take and give nothing was merely existing.
Zig longed to do more than merely exist. He yearned to learn from those from whom the Annunaki only took. He desired to understand their ways. From his vantage point of centuries of existence, it seemed to him that the minute-long-lives of the humans were fuller and more completely full of LIFE than anything he had yet experienced.
His desires were considered taboo among others of his kind. He'd only ever found a few others like him. There was only one other youth in his company who felt similarly. Zidelths was the closest thing he had to a friend. But because they were not of the same dwelling floor, they could not spend time together without arousing suspicion. The others who harbored feelings like his were almost all ancients among his people, so far as he could tell.
Middlepathkeepers were so stuck in the culture. They were unwilling to consider that there could be good outside of their own ways. Surely there must be an exception of two even among them, but Zig refused to attempt to converse with any of the Middlepathkeepers about his taboo thoughts and feelings again because of the un-accepting and unbending refusals and rejections his wishes had earned him. His parents had firmly demanded that he refrain from his unacceptable thought processing which had resulted in a firm reprimand on their permanent record.
He wondered repeatedly why he must feel so differently from the majority. Why couldn't he just feel like the others? It would certainly make his life easier. But... when it came right down to it, he didn't want to feel the same way they did and enjoy doing and existing as he was forced to do and exist currently. It didn't seem that they were truly better off for their views, beliefs, and practices than he was in his divergent ways. Perhaps his lot, being the outsider, was an improvement over belonging to the society of takers he despised. Yes. It must be.
So, if he was really okay with himself, as odd as he was among his own kind, what did that mean? What should he do!?
© 2008-2012 Tori Gollihugh All Rights Reserved
next installment: the June 20th, 10am
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