Shiron Bychronise

Reads: 71  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 2

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic
read and find out....one of my best works yet.

Submitted: August 22, 2012

A A A | A A A

Submitted: August 22, 2012

A A A

A A A


SHIRON BYCHRONISE –

Born on the streets of London, I Shiron Bychronise was found in a garbage dump in the alleys. I was only 3 years old. I could still recall how cold it was that day, bones turned to icicles, even though I was only a child I could make out that I would not last long. Why my parents left me there to die, I do not know. May be because they themselves were dead or maybe they could not raise me. It was the ‘70s, at that time, London was poverty ridden, people not bothered about each other. The Government could not care less about us and treated the poor like rogues. Time indeed was very merciless. Yet miraculously I survived. A passerby saw me and brought me along with her. Her name was Madam Sylvette – that’s what everyone called her. She was a very kind hearted lady. I mean, who would be bothered about an orphan, thousands of us roamed the streets. Dying like trash, never ending hatred towards others, yet we live on and struggle. That’s what being human is all about. Alas, my future only had darkness ahead.

She raised me well, even though the life of the people was hard, she gave me a good education. I was a prodigy in medical science.

At that time the country not only faced external exigencies but also was torn apart by civil wars. Air stenched with gun powder and rotting bodies, the sand saturated with blood, absorbing it like water. We fight, we conquer, we suffer and we die in the end. What’s left? Nothing but ruins and sand all are so pitiful.

That is the reason why I wanted to save the people. Soon my hard work paid off I was recruited by the Government branch of Medical Science. All the people were happy to know about this. Happy that a nobody from the alleys was able to make it big. They hoped I would work for their upliftment. I hoped the same.

By that time due to the unsanitary conditions, a disease grasped the country. Locally it was called the Regan – spread diseases. Red marks appearing on the skin and continuous coughing were its symptoms. The bearer would die within 2 weeks or less. Happiness was never my companion; my aunt too met her demise at its hands. I worked day and night to come up with a cure and at last I was successful. After the submission of my reports, the Government rewarded me well, but asked me to keep this confidential. I was confused. They only sold the antidote to the highest bidders. Greed got the better of us. I could not defy them. They were too powerful well that’s the only excuse I could come up with.

Death spread like fire. People were dying everywhere. The government declared that was working on an antidote and it was soon to be ready.

People started calling me a nation’s saint, the ever laughing maiden, Hand of God. They begged me to heal them. I even got a cute name called Calico. Quite admirable for me as I was only 17. In the end I longed to be called by my own name.

When I could not bear this anymore, I protested and started to warn the people, make them aware of what was really going on. The ministers turned the blame on me, they stated that I had the cure but would not sell it to others except the rich. Trivial are humans. They believe it. I was cursed, called a witch spit on, they threw stones. I was lost; there was no way I could gain their trust. On popular census I was supposed to be beheaded in the town square. My death was inevitable.

16th December, Town Square, 5th Avenue London, today is the day I meet my end, the day I will be set free from this empty world of hate.

Humans are the beings who are meant to experience all happiness they can achieve in the world. They are meant to live in utmost bliss. To love and to be loved.

Weak humans are to be helped

Suffering humans are to be saved.

Forsaken humans are to be loved.

When my words finally reach to you, go to the place where someone lost someone precious to them. And in that brief moment run toward the wind where I last whispered I love you. For I am Shiron Bychronise. I hope my tale reaches your ears.


© Copyright 2017 declan12. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments:

Comments

More Fantasy Short Stories

Booksie 2017-2018 Short Story Contest

Booksie Popular Content

Other Content by declan12

Shiron Bychronise

Short Story / Fantasy

The Girl In The Classroom

Short Story / Horror

Popular Tags