The Strangest of All Attractors || Ch. 1, Pages 1-5

Ch. 1 - What Is & What Should Never Be || First Flashback, Pages 1-5

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From out the depths of a quiet, serene and peaceful land, a church bell rang from the small town of Farmington.

Farmington was not a cowboy town like most other towns of the new west, although this area was in the middle of constant cattle migration. This small settlement was a pioneer town. The lively wooded forests that patched this land contained blueberries, always ripe for the picking during spring and summer. The natives no longer posed an issue in this area, at least in the eyes of the townsman.

Living here had it's drawbacks. Winters were cold. Summers were scalding. Most unsettling of all, despite the springtime showers, was the dry, cracked air of this land. Regardless of such struggles, the townspeople were happy and prepared for any cloudy or otherwise dreadful day.

It was an hour before noon as people began to file out of the town's church house. Among these lavishly dressed people, one young girl, about ten or eleven years old, popped out of the crowd and started off into the woods.

"Mary-Anne!" called out one of the women. She had flowing dark blond hair similar to the young girl.

"Be sure to head back for lunch, Mary-Anne!"

"I will, mother!"

The young girl joyfully skipped past the schoolhouse and onto a dusty dirt road, wearing her favorite blue dress and white bonnet.

It was a beautiful spring day. The lively forest trees that surrounded the girl blossomed with life. Birds were chirping. The last of the winter chill was gone, replaced by a modest warmth from the sun.

Mary-Anne carried a few other books with her along with her Bible, including some works of Nathaniel Hawthorne, a story of the great King Arthur, and a lengthy novel that was recently shipped in from the eastern states. Her father didn't approve of Mary reading this book. However, Uncle Tom's Cabin explained why her parents decided to travel far away from such wild injustices that were rumored to inflame the eastern states, towards a new and proper society.

A new and proper society didn’t seem to be possible anymore – least not in this territory.

Even this land was becoming infected with the barbaric customs that was supposed to belong only to the Confederacy. Some travelers from the east called it the Kansas-Nebraska Act, of which claimed the great territory of Kansas as a slave state – as opposed to the year before last, back when it was Nebraska where these men were to live.

Despite rumors of a great war brewing between the states in the east, life in Farmington remained quiet and pleasant, even though other places felt as if they would succumb to such tension. Many people outside of town sang their songs and held their banners. One side had a very well known song, called The Marching Song of Whittier. The lines of the song were ingrained into Mary’s head.

'We come across the prairie as of old, the pilgrims crossed the sea, to make the West, as they the East, the homestead of the free!'

It was clear to Mary-Anne. Abolitionists, such as Mary's own father, knew what the right path was. People like the controversial man parading about Kansas going by the name of John Brown – they supposedly knew the right hand of God. The enslaved were to be freed, to walk upon God's land without no other man's order but his own. It was all well and good. Mary just wished that attaining freedoms didn't involve so much violence and bloodshed. So went the usual matters of men.

Truths were a strange thing – but so were lies.

People truly were a mad, harebrained bunch in Mary-Anne's eyes. She wondered how some men could be so oblivious to their own natures. She wondered why some men would viciously protect their misdeeds and injustices. The minds of these men were beyond sound truths.

One night she posed this question to her father, of which her father propped her up upon his knee and said simply, ‘because all men are free to be wrong and unjust. It is only a man's choice to either be the right hand of God or to be not.’

The future of this 'homestead of the free' was bleak – however all spurring conflicts of this world had to be put aside for the day of the Sabbath.

The dirt road Mary was on led to an abandoned cottage. She wasn't going there now. She was heading off to her favorite reading place, which was under an old oak tree with a giant, raised root. This was where she sat as she read, underneath large branches that loomed over her. These low branches swayed silently in the wind, with it's leaves singing softly.

Mary found her place under the oak tree and plopped down on the raised branch. She opened up her Bible, starting on the Book of Matthew, and read on.

The air about the land leveled to a quiet and peaceful atmosphere during her studies. By the time Mary began Chapter Fifteen, the world around her was silent. Mary paid no notice to the absence of sound.

Off in the forest, the sound of a twig snapped, breaking the stillness of the air.

With her muscles feeling atrophied, Mary decided to take a stretch. She stood up and proceeded to walk to the end of the beaten path, where the old sod house was.

Mary recalled the story about this particular area. The town elders said that these woods served a divine purpose to the Indians that once roamed here. The Indians avoided it at all costs. They believed no mortal man was worthy enough to find the secrets this land contained – whatever those secrets may had been.

It was possible that this was not true. The older folk loved to tell all sorts of entertaining and wild stories. Mary-Anne thought of herself as clever enough to distinguish the difference between truths and tall tales.

After western pioneers displaced the Indians, nothing was discovered. It was well assured by now that this was a land like any other, a land of forest, grass, weeds and stones.

The sod house was left abandoned a year ago. It's walls and roof remained standing. The door broke off and was now laying on the ground in front. All that was inside were heaps of hay. Mary’s friends frequented this place. Her best friend, Melody Catratt, was one of those who spent time around this area, picking the blueberry bushes nearby.

As Mary expected though, there was no one inside. It didn't matter. She would be more then glad to wait for a while, or at least until lunchtime.

Mary sat down outside with her back facing the outer wall. She commenced her studies once again.

After several minutes, Mary looked up and sighed. There was something distracting her. It was something about the mood of the place. It was an odd feeling – but Mary didn't feel threatened by the wave of anticipation that swept over her. It was hard to explain.

The air remained silent. There was not a tweet of a bird nearby. The air was stagnant.

After a few minutes, Mary forced her attention back to her bible. She forced the strange thoughts out of her head.

Snap!

The loud sound of a branch snapping reverberated from within the wheat meadow next to her, breaking the dead silence of the atmosphere.

It sounded huge, similar to the sound of the banging antlers of opposing deer. Or more like the branch of a tree.

A sudden chill swept down her back as the feeling came upon Mary once again.

At this point, she could no longer pay attention to her studies. She had to step into the wheat field, if only for a moment.

Mary entered the field, arms outstretched, feeling the swaying stems of wheat as she passed. The wind was slightly picking up once again, blowing gently from the north, as if edging her forward into the field. The dirt ground below her feet was soft. Her shoes sank into the wet soil.

The feeling of anticipation receded and was soon replaced by a serene calmness that swept over Mary-Anne. She was moved into such a heavenly spiritual state, as if she was made to be lighter than a feather, as if she was exalted by the quiet, motionless scenery presented before her.

It felt as if Mary-Anne was being invited by the land into a glorious, golden realm, as if by the hand of God, she was being sent off into a vastly overlooked or discarded kingdom of sorts.

It was an odd thing to sense.

In fact, it was ridiculous. There wasn't anything here. Every traveler that had passed through this area found the same.

Forest and grass. Weeds and stones. That's all there ever was out here, and nothing more.

Still, it was peaceful. The feeling of elevation wasn't in any way lost regardless of the fact.

Mary paused and sighed as she took one last glance around. She wanted to stay all day amongst this golden yellow exhibition – but her mother was expecting her for lunch, so Mary-Anne began to turn around to head back towards the road.

Crack!

The ground under her feet shifted downwards. A loud cracking sound, similar to breaking stone, sounded from below.

Mary froze, her eyes wide with terror.

What was that, she thought.

That didn't sound good.

She attempted to move forward. Mary wanted to set foot back on solid ground.

Her efforts proved useless. The ground gave way.

Mary was sent falling down into a deep, black pit, screaming all the way down.

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