Imperfect World

Finally, I am posting on this blog that I started a little while ago. Originally, I started it to help to basically force me to write everyday...but it hasn't really helped too much. But, anyway I'm going to start now (better late than never, right?), so here is my first piece for this blog; Imperfect World (this piece is also going to be published in the Bellevue College Teen Anthology if I am not mistaken).



Imperfect World

The First Formation. A glass orb sat alone in the middle of the emptiness. It shone with a surreal radiance, blinding when looked upon; but it was looked upon by none. Despite the orb’s unbearable light, the blackness around it persisted, seeming to absorb anything that would disturb it. Inside the orb white clouds swirled. The clouds obscured the center of the orb from view. There was, of course, nothing to be seen within, but the clouds obscured it nonetheless as they constantly, forever, swirled within the orb.
A smooth, white-skinned hand reached out from the darkness to touch the orb. The hand was attached to an equally exquisite individual dressed in white robe. The robe along with its hood made the figure’s gender indistinguishable. Snowy wings spread out from the figure’s back, each feather beautiful and unruffled. The angel touched the orb and the clouds inside it convulsed, spun faster and faster, then suddenly stopped and cleared. The angel watched as a small world formed within the orb. Mountains rose, oceans filled, rivers rolled across the land like spider webs.
Then people appeared and soon conquered the new world at the first light of dawn.
The angel watched unmoving as they roamed around their new habitat; hunting, gathering, and praising gods who did not exist for life that they did not create. The angel watched unmoving as the villages turned into cities with tall spires atop churches dedicated to those imaginary gods. The angel watched unmoving as corrupt emperors and kings took control of the cities and waged war with each other for land and power. The angel watched unmoving as a crusade swept across the land to cleanse those who were not worthy in the eyes of the imaginary gods. Only then did the angel move, when the world was filled with cruelty, malice, and pain in the name of righteousness, only then was there intervention and the world ended with the tortured scream of an innocent.
In an instant the angel pulled back its hand then brought it down on the orb, shattering it into a multitude of jagged shards. A spray of deep red splashed onto the dead world as the shards sliced open the angel’s hands. The angel grimly pushed away the refuse with a mangled hand. The emptiness was no longer perfect.
The Second Formation. The angel cupped its hands. Then, even though nothing could be seen, there was a sense of motion and a new, considerably larger orb formed over the angel’s hands. Clouds swarmed within this orb too, obscuring the center. Unlike the original orb, these clouds were deep black and radiated foreboding; the world created here would not be friendly. But the angel did not seem disturbed by the orb’s sinister appearance and once again touched the orb. Just as before, the clouds convulsed within, but unlike before, they contracted and expanded with violent flashes of light before finally coming to a stop. When the clouds cleared a new world was revealed.
Volcanoes erupted from the world’s surface and dark rivers twisted across the land, weeping willows rising along dim banks. Humans appeared too, the flames in the centers of their small villages keeping back the darkness. This time they were not alone: ferocious creatures, demons of equal intelligence, though greater strength, fought the humans for dominance over the world. Finally, a demon with immeasurable power appeared and conquered the world, snuffing out all other life in an instant. He then turned skyward looking to the angel; he wished to rule the emptiness as well. With a guttural laugh, he sprang into the sky and spread his wings. The angel brought its hand down once more on a world of its creation, shattering it and the rising demon into countless splinters.
The demon’s soul had not completely gone. With a final act of vengeance against his superior, he directed the glass shards towards the angel and let loose a final howl of rage. The angel did nothing as the daggers struck it, shearing through its flesh, wings, and robes, and blowing back its hood. With the hood removed the angel was shown to be male, new scars decorating his perfect face, his white robe now red. Even as his body was mutilated his face remained emotionless.
By the time the shards stopped their deadly dance the angel’s robes were nothing but tatters, just clinging to his shoulders by small strands of cloth. His hair and eyes were both pitch black with no whites or discernable pupils. His wings, too, which had before been brilliantly white now were as black as his eyes, but his skin remained white, though scarred.
The Third Formation. The angel attempted to move his arms but for all his efforts they remained limp at his sides. He only smiled at this, a sad gleam in his eyes. He parted his lips and sang. The song had no words, only notes to fill the silence. Once again an orb formed, dwarfing the others in comparison. This orb had no clouds and was just as empty inside as the space around it, but nonetheless it glowed with a gentle radiance. The angel’s arms still refused to move to touch the orb. The sad look returned to his eyes; then he leaned forward and kissed the orb softly.
The orb flashed brighter then dimmer and a world formed. It would be the last. The angel had no strength for another. Once again, land appeared and people spread to cover the world. This time there were no demons, persecutions, or crusades. The people lived in peace. Then, somehow, a piece of the dark world that had been created before this perfect world broke through the glass surrounding the globe and fell to the ground with a flash of red that illuminated the skies. People soon surrounded the alien substance and from it they learned of dark powers. They learned of malice, spite, pain, cruelty, and all other evils. Soon the dark corruption spread across the world, encircling it with the demon’s dying hate. It seemed none could resist its pull.
The angel looked on with despair. Tears of black blood rolled down his cheeks as he summoned all the strength he possessed and slowly raised his arm over his head. He knew he had failed; he had not been able to bring forth and preserve a perfect world. And so he wept as he brought his hand down on the world. With a tremor his hand hit the glass. It did not break but cracked from where his hand struck, and life on the world within trembled but obstinately continued. And so his silent weeping persisted as his heart took its last beats. He had done worse than fail: he had let an imperfect world endure.
And so our world was created.
--Myth of the Creation of the World