18 | Psychopomp Magazine
So imagine everyone’s surprise when a week ago, my name was drawn. I was told of the bloody deeds that marked our town, and my world was shaken to the core. For six days I wept. Do you know, our town has a name for the time children get before they are sent to you? They call it the week of fancy. The shopkeepers ply us with all the sweets and cakes we can eat. We are given every toy we ask for. My old nurse pulled me aside one day. She told me, this time is a gift. Us older ones, we don’t know how or when we will die. Sabra, my sweet, it’s much better than you realize. I was not consoled, but I thought, There must be something more I can do.
On the seventh day, I took action. I searched out Algernon, the man whose charge the lottery was. I threatened him at knifepoint until he spilled every secret. George had paid him a handsome sum to include my name—he bought himself an opportunity to play the hero. I made sure that no one would suffer again because of Algernon’s cowardice. And then I came out here, freely, to face my fate.
Now she senses that her talk wears on me. Sleep on, Dragon, she says. You and I have nothing but time.
The food has been gone for a while now, and no further offerings arrive. Heaviness settles into my bones, which sleep does nothing to dispel. I had thought I would simply fly to another place when pickings grew scarce here. Now I doubt that I would get very far.
Sabra is not doing well either. Her dress hangs off one bony shoulder. But she keeps talking, like someone in a trance.
My old nurse used to tell me fairy stories, she says, distantly. My favorites were tales of witches and dragons. You know, witches were always born witches. No one asks how, or why. But dragons were originally people who got turned into beasts as punishment for their wickedness. I’m no stranger to wickedness. I killed Algernon and spread his organs on the ground for the birds to eat. But now he’s killed me by sending me out here. A court of law might find me justified in my actions. I don’t think I am. We’ve all done such terrible things.