Daughter of Eve

I desperately grasped for the light, the dark water swallowing me up. The voices mocking me. I couldn’t stop now. I knew I couldn’t. My limbs slowly losing their strength. I struggled to keep awake. Many had accepted their fate and I could hear them telling me to do the same. I couldn’t listen to them I covered my ears. “If I die, I’ll die alive.” I thought, sinking further into the warm depths. My eyes tightly closed; I did not see the hand extended. It grabbed hold of mine, jerking me up from ground. I was too weak to open my eyes but I noticed the lights.

“Wake up, child.” The voice whispered.

I coughed. “Wake up, my daughter.” The voice said.

I slowly opened my eyes to the light of the moon. Blinking once. I stared at the woman above. Her hair was a black night that refused light and defied gravity. Her dark skin and strongly defined face radiated power like a crown of halo. Her eyes were dark and her arms displayed scars. Scars she was no doubt proud of.

“They’re yours too.” She said. Snapping me out of my trance.

“They are mine?” I whispered unsure of what she was referring to.

“These scars. The scars of the pain we women suffer, the scars that remind us of our past and the reason why we should cherish where we are now.” She extended her arm again and I took it. She pulled me from the sand and I finally felt the chill in the air. I focused on her gown of blood red. It was almost like the gown was constantly becoming longer.

“Slaves to men, Slaves to their desire.” she said.

“What?” I asked.

“That’s our past. It’s also our present. It’s why we fight. For equality.” She said walking off.

I followed her barefooted. The sand was no longer sand but rough rubble. A house I knew like the back of my hand stood tall but unfamiliar sounds of pain escaped the thin walls. I knew that voice. It was mine. He was trying to hurt me again. I knew it. I remembered it well. Like it was yesterday. My eyes welled up with tears as I remembered him slamming against the door. How that thin, dark-skinned little girl hid in the corner, with the stripping walls among antiques hoping her grandmother would stop him this time.

“Why are we here?!” I yelled.

“To heal.” She said looking back at me.

“Why? I don’t need to hear her.” I said in hate. I was weak. I allowed them to rip my confidence to pieces long before I even had time to build it. I broke.

“Yes, you were broken and still are and you need to heal if we are to give you the fruit given to us.” She said

“Who is us?” I asked.

“We are Eve. We are Woman.” She said. She turned and continued pass the house. I struggled to keep up. Images of my childhood rushed pass but I focused on Eve. She abruptly stopped staring at a sleeping figure.

“See, this? This is where you finally woke up and began to fight back.” She said and tears streamed down her perfectly imperfect face. “You got up that day and you showed them you were strong; you broke the chains of fear and you became harder but you need to let go of that pain that made you. You need to be proud of those scars because they made you who you are. You need to rise up.” She said.

“Get up queen, get up accept the pain and fight to survive. Fight for us like we fought for you. Daughter of Eve.” She said handing me the fruit.

“Take your bite and pass it on to all the women you meet, help them realise the power we have.” I eyed the fruit, skeptically.

What would this mean if I took this bite? Wouldn’t it be a responsibility? I asked myself. Am I strong enough to take up someone else’s legacy? Am I strong enough to be a woman? I sank my teeth into that juicy fruit of blinding light. The people all around me were all staring. I rose to my feet and stepped into the aisle. I began to walk towards the stage and as I did my heels went click clock against the hard ground. The closer I got the taller I stood. I heard the cheers getting louder and the only thing I could think was; “Now that I’m here how am I going to fulfil my promise to woman?”

This is just the beginning. Rise up Women.