All That Is Red Read Online Free PDF Page B

bereavement. I tried to understand what it felt like, but I couldn’t conceive of the idea,
much less the feeling.
    The boy laughed darkly. “You know, it wasn’t always like this. There was a time when these fields were Red and people who felt weren’t persecuted at all.” He let out a
brief sigh, as he shook his head sadly.
    “What was it like?”
    “Look around you and paint the world with the warmest colors conceivable. Colors that come from something greater than all this. Reds thicker and more vibrant than the blood that runs
through our veins. Reds that come from the core of the earth. And the thrum...” the boy choked out. “The thrum that was the very pulse of the land. Listen. It’s empty
now.”
    In the stillness I could only make out the boy’s breath. Constant, it whispered of what was lacking in the White world.
    “And the people? How did they live before?”
    “They lived in houses like the one we saw. Only there were full communities of thirty to fifty people. Families lived together and children played outside in the Red. The younger ones
picked flowers for their parents.” The boy stopped suddenly. When he continued, his voice was changed. “I remember picking Red poppies for my mother when I was little. My sister would
have to walk me to the fields everyday, because I refused to go alone. But she never complained. She’d sit with her legs dangling off the cliff, watching me gather fistfuls of poppies. My
sister waved periodically, but I never waved back. I was always afraid she’d fall off if I even so much as distracted her.” The boy chuckled, but there was something off in his voice, a
quality he couldn’t hide.
    “What happened to your sister?”
    The boy’s lips formed a tight line and he stayed silent, his steps quickening.
    “I’m sorry I asked,” I said. “If you don’t want to talk about it-”
    “It’s fine.” He sounded tired. “It was so long ago anyways.
    “Kera, that was her name. She died trying to play the role of a hero. A role she wasn’t fit for.” The boy looked away. “The White had started its campaign. Most people
don’t remember how The Pure One started, but I think it was something that ate away at us all. It was a part of our conscious in the back of our minds that wasn’t happy with what we
had. We were so happy back then that we couldn’t be content with just happiness any longer. We didn’t know how fortunate we were until we lost everything.
    “People took their emotions for granted, thinking life would be easier if they didn’t feel. They forgot all about the joys they had felt and the happy times they had experienced,
choosing to focus instead on the hard times they had been through and the pain and grief they felt. The people traded their allegiance to the White so that they could have their emotions removed.
Those people became the unfeelings.
    “Kera...” His voice broke and he shut his eyes. “Kera, she wanted to do something to help. That need to do something; to stand up to the White was what eventually got her
killed. There was a rumor, one of many during that time, started by idle minds who needed stories of reassurance to tell their children. A young human with only fragments for a past was supposed to
rise up out of nowhere to lead a cause that would rival The Pure One’s army.
    “Kera ran away from home one day, but not before saying goodbye to me and telling me what she was going to do. She swore me to secrecy, telling me that if I loved her as much as she loved
me, I would keep her secret. I was left with my parents to watch her actions from afar.
    “I hated those years without her by my side. I grew up quickly, propelled by my worry for her. I left the poppy fields the same month my sister ran away. My parents thought she was dead by
then, and even that would have been better than the truth. I never told them, you know. It was easier for them that way.
    “We heard stories from neighbors. Stories of a