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The fog still poured out of the archway, so thick that no one could see through it. It has been like this for centuries, but when it begins to pour out, that is when another sacrifice is demanded.

This is my year. I’ve been chosen to be the sacrifice, just as so many in my community have been before me.

As I surveyed the archway, the drums started to pound. The thumping of the beat seemed to coincide with the thumping of my heart. I dug my toes into the dirt to feel it one last time and pulled my long skirt lose of the earth.

As the drums came to an end, I walked up to the archway and tenderly put a hand up to the fog. When my fingers reached it, it felt as if I submerged my hand in cold, thick water. I slowly walked into it, feeling the world slip away and give way to nothingness.

I felt… nothing. 

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Edited by Sarah

Photo by Filip Zrnzević on Unsplash

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