Marcos Fernandez

Ancient chants roared out from around me. My eyes still closed, I felt the rope tying my feet and wrists to the ice cold stone altar. I had no need to struggle; I knew I could get out of here. My brain pleaded for a view of the Aztec world, and my eyes obeyed. My neck craned up and around to behold the sight of the burial ground. The sun crept onto my black eyes and inflicted temporary blindness, so I gave up trying to look around, and lowered my head back down to the stone ‘pillow’.

The ground shook to a steady beat; thud, thud, thud. It was beating quicker now; quicker that when I was first captured and tied to this forsaken rock many days ago. My neck greatly uncomfortable, I risked another glance at the Aztecs. Men, women, children; all draped in rainbow coloured materials, stood around sheepishly at the base of the pyramid, hoping to bear witness to the greatest sacrifice Aztec kind will ever perform.

I obviously had no intention of dying here. I knew I was meant for so much more.

The beat suddenly stopped. Murmuring began. I knew what was going to happen. I had observed this tribe for many weeks now without them noticing; until today of course. The scapegoat would be tied to the altar, and the populous would chant until the unseen drums cease beating. Then five spears would be thrown at the scapegoat on the pillar, from a plinth on the other side of the pyramid. If all five of the spears miss, the scapegoat is torched over a pit of scorching coals, however if one of the spears hit the scapegoat, the thrower must claim the scapegoat as his own, and rely on the flesh from the scapegoat’s body, for his family’s food.

I had certainly never read about any of these Aztec traditions in any of my textbooks, but then again Mexican schools were never great. America always interested me though. The land of opportunity. One day maybe.

As I had anticipated their next move weeks before they had chosen to make it, I quickly opened my eyes and concentrated. The murmuring ceased instantly. I lifted my neck again, to see the whole picture, totally frozen in time. Three small white doves were frozen in the sky right above me. They looked quite out of place. The first two spears were already on their way, but now they were just floating motionlessly in the air. They were both going to miss anyway.

I started to wriggle around on the altar until the rope around my wrists caught a snag on the rock. I pulled and tugged until a glorious tear sounded; I quickly unleashed my feet, and I was free. Oh the fun I could have in situations like these. Instinctively I slicked my long black fringe back behind my ear, a trait many chicas at school found sexy. I suddenly realised, I should get back to school. My brain would turn to mush if I stayed away for much longer, although I’ve really not been away at all.

Stood victoriously on the altar, I lifted my hands up in the air and unstuck time. The two spears came within a hair’s breadth of both an ear and hair of mine, but soon soared through the air, and impaled an unlucky chico behind me. The tribe slowly began to clock on that everything wasn’t right here. I closed my eyes, jumped twice and opened my eyes again. I didn't have to jump,  I just liked to keep it fresh. My body was being pulled in a thousand different directions and I was seeing just blurs of faces, and blood, and animals, as I drifted through time and space. I always felt like this; as if I had no being, as if I didn't exist, other than consciously, as an idea.

Before I got distracted and lost forever in the never-ending tendrils of time, I set my mind to return to my original time, but a pang of intense pain struck me right in be back of the skull. I tried again, before I hurtled off into the future, but again the pain seared through my head. Screaming, I began to slow down involuntarily, and I was pulled to a date different to when I wanted. As I materialised into this time’s space, I sensed that the date was July the 30th.  I stood horror struck, as my entire town was burning under a raging torrent of flames, and three small white doves danced through the air, fleeing the scene of the crime.

The End

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