An Event in Town

Gathered in the center of their settlement, the townspeople milled around awaiting the announcement they knew was to come, some whispering amongst themselves, but most as solemn as they were silent.

Taking all too long, though no one wanted the moment to come at all, the head of the council loudly cleared his throat to speak.

“As I’m sure you all know, our dear Lilah is now six months old.”

What should have been a joyous event caused a blanket of dread to fall over the townsfolk. Lilah, perhaps hearing her name, oblivious of the nature of the announcement, laughed in her mother’s arms in the crowd.

“It is with both joy and sadness that we must make our choice today, but as we all know, balance is what keeps up alive, what keeps our community thriving,” he spoke, another council member stepping up with a worn wooden box. “Please come forward one at a time.”

One by one the townspeople went up to the box, taking a piece of paper from it, excluding the children who mostly clung to their parent’s tattered clothing. Some of them knew what was to happen and buried their faces into the legs of their mothers, while some were none the wiser, cooing as they tried to gain attention.

“My bet is on Beverly,” one woman said lowly to another as she snatched her paper, almost with vigor. “Everyone I know voted for her the last time.”

“Can you blame them?” another chimed up, acting as if everyone around couldn’t hear what she was saying. “If it wasn’t for those babies, well, I’d vote for her myself.”

“Oh, honey, I’m voting for her because of those babies!”

When the council had first made the choice to hold these events, no one said a thing about it for weeks, scared of angering others and garnering more votes. By the third time, people would whisper about it, leading to rumors which spread like fire among the small settlement who had not much else to do except work and talk.

“This is where judgment gets us,” the council had said in a town meeting after the violent loss of one town member at the hands of the others. “One less pair of hands to grow our food, to mend our clothes or houses. We have to keep the balance, and if you cannot do that, the council will take matters into our own hands.”

As time went on, speaking of the choice you made became less taboo. With the law of no judgment in place, people discussed it with their family and friends more freely. Some talked down on others to help secure their place. Some made the choice in a pragmatic way, selecting who they deemed to be the oldest or most sick and therefore the least helpful to the settlement. Some simply chose who they liked the least.

Once the box was empty of paper, the townspeople began to line up, each taking the pen offered to them by a council member, scribbling down a name, and shoving the paper back into the box. One by one they voted, the scratching of the pen ringing in their ears. Some were shaking so badly their writing was near illegible, while others did not seem bothered by the choice they made or simply did not understand the weight of it.

Once the last name was written, the pen slipping due to the grime and sweat that had built up on it from everyone before, the box was snapped shu and council wordlessly crried it into their makeshift town hall.

There the townsfolk waited. The children began to run and play, their laughter doing nothing to relieve the tension in the air. The men mumbled about how they wished the council would just hurry it up. Mothers talked amongst themselves in hushed tones. “Who do you think it will be?” one would say to another, perhaps looking for assurance.

“I don’t think I should say”

When the doors to town hall opened, everyone stood.

“We have counted the votes,” the head of the council announced. “A decision has been made.”

The collective heartbeat of the town could have been heard miles away, and if there was anyone out there to hear it then they might have. Families flocked together, parents gathering their children in their arms for fear it may be the last time.

“The town has decided on Beverly Price.”

Everyone turned to look at her all at once, standing in the middle of the crowd surrounded by her children. Immediately two council members started towards her, dragging her away from her family. The children let her go, almost as if they understood that there was no point in fighting. Another woman came forward to take baby Lilah from her arms as Beverly screamed.

“Please, please! I’m a mother, my children need me! You can’t do this to me!”

They brought her to the front of town hall, securing her arms to the pillar keeping the building upright. She fought and yelled, but the townsfolk just looked on in silence. None of them questioned her fate, not even her husband who cradled his two sons in his arms.

Once she was secured, the head of the council turned to the crowd, a large knife in his hand.

“This is what we must do to keep the balance!” he yelled over her, before plunging the knife into her chest.

Her screaming came to a halt, the silence even more painful in its place, filling the townsfolk with both the relief and horror that what had taken place ensured their own survival.

Soon all her movement stopped, and as they began to cut her down, blood dripped from the heart shaped locket tied around her neck.