The Time Weavers

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Religion and Spirituality  |  House: Booksie Classic
The time weavers are the weavers and workers of time. They do not control the events that happen in time but they do control how the past is remembered, the present percieved and the future anticipated. However their work is not always for the best depending on what victim their boss grants them.

Submitted: August 08, 2012

A A A | A A A

Submitted: August 08, 2012



A black void separates the stages of time. The increasing bliss of the past. A forever hollowing of the present. And the decreasing desire for the future. We are the killers of happiness. The embracers of death of the soul. We are the time weavers.

She was our victim, our easy target. We shouldn’t have been granted her. We always converse with God before we attack. He assured us that he didn’t throw anything at people that they could not handle. But we all saw she couldn’t handle this by the way her eyes always watered. By the way her lips always quivered. By the way her heart constantly bled invisible despair.

We are the weavers, the workers the controllers of time. And just as you cannot see time, you cannot see us. We are not evil by nature, as time is not evil by nature and we do not control the events that take place in time. We only control how it is remembered.

We were assigned to our victim when she was young. We would often watch her sitting under the trampoline crying and singing at the same time. She was by far the most extraordinary and introverted child we had ever seen. She often enjoyed the taste of her tears. Salt water. She was fascinated by her appearance in the mirror when she cried. She was already fighting her own demons, she didn’t need us to fight as well. But you know how stubborn God is.

Til this day, we are unsure whether God assigned the events that would occur throughout her life or whether they occurred by sheer luck, chance. Coincidence. But whatever determined their occurrence took it too far.

First, little obstacles took place. Difficulty making friends, being a chubby child. Miniscule issues like that. However as she grew older, and more vulnerable, whatever controlled the events that would occur in her life took reign over it and filled her life with a series of events of despair. Here is were we were forced to weave time into her memories, forcing the events that prepared her to fall to pieces later in life to haunt her for as long as she lived.

Each and every single one of us feels remorse for what we did to her. But we do not dwell on our actions. After all, we are only time. And time cannot be changed. We only feel hatred for God, as he is the most capable of change. And that he did not.

She faced horrific bullying when she reached adolescence. As she was a ‘chubby one’ that would use her breasts as punching bags, exclaim that she weighed “like 400kg” when she was in a radius that did not prevent her from hearing, they made fun of her because she was a vegetarian, they compared her to a blue whale (the biggest in the world). The most common nicknames she received were BFG (big friendly giant) and Fat Nat. And we were forced to make her remember it all.

When she was 13, she experienced Anorexia Nervosa. We weaved the idea into her mind that it was pure, clean and innocent. We made her yearn for it. Still to this day, 4 years on, she feels the protrusion of her bones, the feather feeling that rested above her feet and the unforgettable sense of numbness in her memory.

Professionally, it isn’t recommended that employee’s condemn their boss’s beliefs. But we all know the only reason God gave her a boy called Aaron is so he could take him away.

He was her first kiss, first time, first love. And we all cringed when we saw the glint of spark in her eye that took place when he said “ I love you” because we knew exactly what God had planned.

She loved him dearly. More than anyone will ever comprehend. She wanted to marry him and have a baby with him. On New Years Eve 2009 she asked him to marry her. And when the count down from 10 became the New Year she made a wish that they would be together forever.

When she had fallen irreversibly in love with him, God decided to snatch away the only thing that made her happy. He did it in the most painful manner possible. While he made her love him more, he made him love her less. And he made sure she knew it. He made him cheat on her and dump her by text.

Before she even read the text she knew exactly what it said. She was only young, but never the less she was a woman. A women just know things. “Hey…ummmmmm… Im really sorry but I don’t want to be in a relationship anymore, its not that I don’t care about you, I just don’t feel the same way anymore. I meant all the promises when I made them.. I just don’t feel the same anymore….” There was more to it but we don’t remember it, we were too busy trying to find a way to stop the inevitable.

Even though we were unwillingly working against her, we had grown fond of her. Or perhaps it was because we were unwillingly working against her that we cared. She was in the car driving at the speed of 120km/h. She did not cry until she was only a few minutes away from his house. Perhaps it was because she truly believed that she would not leave until they were back together.

He did not want her. She walked out of his house, fell into her daddy’s arms and wept. Because it really was the end of the world. Well, the world as she knew it. She continued to weep. All she wanted was to die. We do not have hearts but something inside of us broke.

The only thing she could produce a suicide note on was her phone. The only thing she cared for now was that ‘her and Aaron’s song’ would play at her funeral. She proceeded with her lasted wishes and that’s when we interfered.

Technology is not part of time. It does not change. It captures videos, pictures and conversations. It saves moments, so they can be viewed always. Time is not like that and neither are memories. Memories are flawed. We could not control the events that occurred in time but we could control her cell phone. Right before she sent the message, before she propelled herself out of a speeding car, we caused her phone battery to die. Leaving her with the only option but to say out loud her last wish. Luckily, her father was lucky enough to swerve to a holt before she was hurled out of the car and down the road.

The end of that event can easily be foretold, she was taken away to a psych ward for a night. But she lived.

Once again, we unwillingly weaved the past into her mind. Constantly reappearing in her conscience, subconscious and dreams reminding her that her past was amazing, blissful, incredible. Reminding her of the joy she felt when she was with Aaron and the happiness that surrounded her life at that time.

God asked us to weave one last memory into memory to haunt her. The memory of when she was raped. But we refused. We were fired and condemned to an eternity of suffering along with the girl we’d grown fond of.

She is seventeen now. She has a lovely boyfriend but she is still unhappy. She yearns for the past and finds refuge in imitating the identity of Aaron’s mum, they only woman who will always be a part of his life.

We don’t weave any more memories of the past into her mind anymore. And we wish we could erase them, but time cannot be erased. So we follow her wherever she may go and we walk in the invisible blood of despair that her heart bleeds.

We are the killers of happiness. The embracers of death of the soul. We are nostalgia.

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