The Puppet

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Literary Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
When ignorance prevails, chaos ensues. One is not actually born until finding the inherent soul of independence.

Submitted: October 23, 2019

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Submitted: October 23, 2019

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Shortly after its arrival, thick strings started falling, extending down and crawling towards the inside of the creature's tiny innocent entity, coiling and leaving tight knots around on its channels it's wiring.

Whenever it encountered parallels, identical but larger and taller creatures, they contributed more strings which kept overwhelming the little creature, dangling around and shoving throughout its parts, transforming it, within a short time, into a puppet. Nothing could interact with, or lead to, anything inside it. Consequently, it became a pile of incoherent and inconsistent components, except for whatever positive, or negative signals came down along the concealed strings and their knots deep inside. The puppet behaved indeed like a microscopic cell, or amoeba, that could merely respond involuntarily to whatever stimuli, conditions, or influences from around, with one fixed and featureless act, moving in either way within a limited direction.

The story goes on. As decades pass by, and with their end knots still tied within a fully-developed puppet, strings would detach away from their origin, to fall and extend onto newly made creatures, filling, and getting tied inside them, with the latest, larger, and older puppet becoming a new origin; and so on. The whole place got filled with puppets like ours; settling, swaying or crawling haphazardly, only to stumble and collide, and stumble and collide again and again.

One day, the theatre door was forcibly opened by some outside strong wind that intensely shook all the strings. Across that door shined a peculiar view, the puppet's eyes were never set on before. Out there appeared a figure that matched the puppet in shape, in detail, and in size, but that figure was grimacing, laughing, erring, apologising, hating, loving, hesitating and choosing! In addition, all that remote figure's moves, dwellings, and words were balanced and consistent, with endless and unlimited flexibility and fluency.

Our puppet kept staring at the figure for some time after which, the staring changed into careful observation and contemplation, then into wondering and admiration of the scene, and then, into some abnormal but tasty sense of contrast.

A slow comparison started creeping up inside the puppet, between whatever was driving that distant figure but the puppet was lacking. Thence it looked at itself, meticulously examining its components for the first time in its existence. It kept comparing, contemplating, and examining itself time and time again. Identifying some differences, it could not resist a unique deep surge of desire to try to imitate that similar entity that appeared to master movements and sounds with such fantastic speed and harmony. With difficulty, the puppet found itself gathering its strength and limbs, hoping to do something, anything.

"Hope!", a deep and weak sigh regurgitated with agony up and into the puppet's head.

It was not long in simulation before the puppet started raising one knee and leg high up and down again, leaning and stepping forward; then doing the same with the other knee and leg, with the arms moving along with them, so, it began advancing slowly and somewhat synchronously in a straight direction. But, the heaviness and density of the strings hindered the puppet's attempts, so, it fell and rolled over.

This fall was the first of its kind and happening after the puppet's first-ever of its own will, in its entire existence. It was such a violent fall and roll that shook all its parts so much that the strings and their knots were disrupted within the puppet, suddenly easing all strangulation of the inner blocked innocent nerves and channels which then started opening up little by little; and through them, gentle vibrations and signals began to propagate.

"Hope!", continued to resonate within.

Another unique event followed. The puppet was thrilled with extraordinary but pleasant pain, not from the outside as it used to be, but originating from within. Along with the pain, a magnificent and soothing wave of sparks was generated, to circle all the cold and dry parts and organs, followed by a chilling goose all over the outside skin, all eventually shooting up to the head, squeezing warm drops down the puppet's cheeks. The puppet suddenly felt of itself, its size, its entity, its awareness, and its capability.

Shaking its head with those new amazing changes, the puppet kept closing its eyes and opening them several times, recalling what's just happened, picturing it inside its own head, re-thinking about it, and then turning thoughts into another desire to resume the previous movements. That desire boiled and turned into a storming genuine power that intensified, erupted, and just thrust the puppet's legs against the ground so strongly that it jumped and rose high up, jumped and rose high up again, and kept jumping and rising, with the remaining strings and knots detaching away from all the puppet's inside. Those lifelong thick knots just vanished as if they were parasitic worms striving on some living creature, and when they get separated away, without falling onto another body to live on, they disappear with all their ills.

Bloods and pulses rushed profusely along the puppet's veins and nerves.

For the first time, the puppet started to laugh loud with all the muscles of its face, of its chest, and even of its whole body. It went hopping around lightly like a bird, dancing and feeling the warmth and moisture of life suffusing every bit of its body. There and then, it began looking around, dreaming, enjoying, accepting, taking or offering, shouting or muttering, and singing.

With wet, pink eyes, bright face, and a stretched-out perspiring throbbing body, the puppet looked around at other similar puppets to find them busy imitating it, with all their strings snipping off and fading away. All other puppets emerged out like ours did, with novel features, remarkable graceful bodies, and clear coherent voices. They blew away all their remaining minute pieces of knots.

Life shined around with its fluent, smooth and wonderful reality as if our puppet was suddenly thrown into another universe just as a silent hanging closed cocoon would snap out of a freely flying gorgeous butterfly and high into the air.

As the strings did, the gates and walls of the theatre completely disappeared, and whoever and whatever was on both sides became all alike, equal, and homogeneous.

A human being was actually born.

_______


© Copyright 2019 Faris5. All rights reserved.

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