Genre: Literary Fiction
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Joined: November 1, 2009 This Year: Official Participant NaNoWriMo posts: 41 NaNoWriMo buddies: 0
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Synopsis: Sanctity
Post apocalypse. People are already starting to get back on their feet- the damage, although shocking, was not as thorough as it could be. A zealot watches them work to restore society. He decides that they're reenacting the sins of the past, and that whichever god destroyed them the first time will surely do so again if they don't watch their ways. In the end, he realizes that if he creates perfectly pure people, free of sin, then humanity might be forgiven.
So he rounds up thirty infants and locks them in the rooms of an asylum he has secured. They will not feel pain or sin here, he thinks, and thus they will be perfectly pure. But he keeps one of the thirty children to be his adoptive "daughter" and future missionary- a little girl he names Lithiny.
Lithiny grows older, and is kidnapped by her "father's" enemies. They wage a war of hostages with him for awhile, and then return her in exchange for one of the locked-up children. But as she was kept by these enemies of all she ever knew in her sheltered life, they taught her everything about the world and of her "father" and his plans.
Back with her adoptive father, Lithiny keeps a low profile until she grows a little more and the zealot decides that it's time to send her out into the world to spread his cause. She doesn't want to do this, and thus starts and subtle battle of the wills that involves almost everyone on that part of the world- and takes a few lives in the process.
Excerpt: Sanctity
Hello, my name is Lithiny.
I don’t quite know why I’m telling you this. On the surface, I guess it’s cause you probably wouldn’t guessed otherwise. Or maybe because I’m wondering a little about that myself. I mean, if you put a fish in different water, will it still be the same fish? Will it even be able to tell the difference? Fish aside, I’m wondering if I’m still Lithiny now that I’m in a new place.
Someone might dismiss it, although Father never did. But, just saying you did want to argue about it, you aren’t anything until you’ve been somewhere. So I guess what I mean to say is that we’re all built up of where we’ve been and what we’ve seen. And if where you are suddenly changes, then wouldn’t you change too?
For the record, I don’t know. I don’t know if where I am is erasing my plush, six-room identity as I speak. All I know is that yes, I’m in a new place, and if my theory is correct, then that is definitely taking it’s toll.
Do I even know that I’m in a new place? Of course. That’s not even a question, really. This place is a little like my room, but completely different. It’s the same size, but my bed is replaced by a scratchy makeshift one that looks as if it’s meant to be folded. The walls are bare, white, and covered in spiderweb cracks. The little bit of light coming under the door is too dim and gray to really qualify as light.
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