The Days of Jey

The beautiful sun streams in my window as I slowly open my eyes. As my sleepy senses awaken, I sit up, stretch, and yawn. Another day in paradise begins.

I imagine myself perfectly groomed and dressed in my favorite indigo suit, and I am. My dark hair is now wound in a long braid down my strong back. I could be in the dining room simply by thinking of it, but instead I walk to the stairs and descend using my physical form. We are taught from an early age that while we can do or have anything merely by using our minds, we need to utilize our physical forms as well. To live only by the mind reduces the quality of our lives to the point that life loses all meaning.

I am one of a long-lived race. Our history goes back to the very beginning of all there is. In the beginning we evolved from primitive forms. As time went on, we evolved into beings that stood upright, bipeds. We eventually became humanoid in all our forms. We have evolved through many eons, and now change comes rarely. We live in a structured, peaceful society. We are governed by our priests and a council of elders, and we live by a set of rules called the teachings. Life is truly paradise; at least, I hope it is.

I hear my mother's lilting voice calling up the stairs, "Jey, breakfast is ready." I love my mom, but sometimes she takes the teachings too seriously. Though she could sense me coming down the stairs, she still needed to speak to me.

My little sister comes bouncing up to me as I enter the dining room. She hugs me and says, "Morning, Jey-Jey." As I look down at her I can see the beautiful woman she's turning into, a perfect blending of my mother's pale skin and red hair and my father's dark-reddish skin and black hair. Trinny stares up at me with her beautiful green eyes, her strawberry blonde hair pulled back at her ears. Today she is wearing a crown of white flowers, and her attire is in shades of green. Earth tones have always been her favorite, and she chooses a different flower from her gardens each day to adorn her hair.

Breakfast with my mom and sister is one of my favorite times of the day. The view from our dining area is amazing. I stare out to the expanse of our parcel. Our home is built on the highest point of our property, and the scene from the dining room is panoramic. We are on a cleared plateau complete with a huge pond and perfect landscaping. The weather is warm and tropical. As I look to the distance, the green lushness of jungle rolls on for as far as the eye can see. The rising sun gives a shining hue to it all. Mother says that we are always closest to God in the early morning, and looking at this beautiful scene with my loving family, I believe she is right.

Trinny's happy chatter brings me out of my reverie. The conversation is usually light and playful, but today is different. I will be sixteen in a couple of months, and my studies have become increasingly intense. My stress has affected my mood, and my family feels it as well. In our society, when a person turns sixteen, he or she goes through a trial—a test. It's called the journey. As my day of journey approaches, my apprehension grows. While my studies have advanced, no one speaks about the journey. Even my parents will only say it's a personal experience, different for each individual. It is the most profound experience any of us will ever go through, yet no one speaks of it. My fear and frustration grow with each passing day.

The breakfast conversation starts off light and playful, Scrabble with no dictionary rules. Suddenly it turns to cutthroat cribbage, and my opponent has miscounted by eight coming down Home Street. My mother follows all the teachings to the letter. She can recite every quote, and she follows all the scripts. My sister, being young, is still an angel, believing every word my parents say. As an informed youth, I realize that not all of the teachings may be right. I get tired of the elders proclaiming their rules as "all there is." No proof, only the teachings. Elders all conforming, no thought, almost a brainless response to life. The more I learn in my studies, the more I doubt. There are all these teachings but no reasoning behind them; there is only this unreasonable faith. Is it a brainless society or a brainwashed society? The young are awakening to the truth. We are not willing to follow the teachings blindly as our elders do. We feel we are a new breed, smarter than the elders.

My mom and sister know my opinions, and they disagree wholeheartedly and usually very loudly. Today's breakfast conversation is as heated as any we've had. I watch as my mother's face flushes almost as red as her long, flowing hair. Her temper is always apparent, and often it's quite fiery. I try to explain to my mom that I am sick of the teachings and that I don't want to go to my studies today. My mom says that with my journey coming up, I cannot miss any of my studies. I argue that missing one day wouldn't affect my journey. It would be one day of playtime, like I had in my youth. My mom's response is, "Yesterday is but a memory; tomorrow but a dream. We must do what is right today, for today is all there is."

Well, it looks like I'm off to my studies. When Mother quotes the scripts, it is always the final word.

I walk to my studies today—anything to put them off as long as possible. The walk to my school is a nice hike. Because we live on the hill, it always an easy slope, and the path winds through some of the most beautiful scenes we could imagine. Because we design the landscape we live in, beauty is everywhere. The fauna is thick and diverse. Birds of every hue flit from tree to tree. Bushes shake as small animals rustle around. We no longer need to eat the flesh of animals; we simply manipulate molecules and build the food we need. We have memories and traditions and still eat meat, but no animal ever dies to feed us. With habitat being so plentiful, wildlife of all kinds thrives. A vivid pack of yellow finches decides to investigate me. They have no fear and follow me down the path. This truly is paradise. The path winds to the bottom of the plateau, and now I gaze up at the cliffs that tower over the path. The path to town levels off and my mind begins to wander.

I take this time to contemplate the journey. I should probably avoid this line of thought; all it...