The Gilding is a creative piece about a girl discovering (and encountering) her ancestry, birthright and fate. It takes place in Louisiana.
Here is fuller excerpt from the piece:
“Remember the woman and child that death was sure to meet,
To save them all from Satin’s power as they fall fast to sleep,
O the children slaughtered and women ran but could not escape the rape,
The chains and shackles of those who capture them remain tightened to the date,
The men were taken over the gilded bridge to the old great tree,
Where they were engulfed in flames,
O Providence Lake, where they shall forever stay.”
Flames ravage through the networks of my mind, as the smell of hot burning flesh fill my nose, and a thick, slippery texture drip from my palms and narrow fingers. As I stand in the midst of the darkest night unknown to man, my skin begins to crawl and an uncontrollable and unpleasant sensation overcomes me. The burning flesh that I smell is of my own, and the blood dripping from my fingertips is identical to the blood marked on the ropes that I hang from. I scream in agony.
“Sam, honey, wake up! Wake up! Are you okay? Wake up, Sam!”
I awake to my hysterical mother shaking me, nervously. I must’ve had that dream again.
“I’m fine, mom. I just had a bad dream. I’m fine.”
“You sure, honey? You’ve been having those dreams a lot, lately. Maybe you need a change of scenery.”
Not that change of scenery crap again. She kills me.
“Mom, I’m fine. Now, can I please get some rest before we leave in the morning?”
“Sure, honey. Goodnight. Call if you need me.”
As soon as the hallway light ceases to peer from underneath my bedroom door, my toes wrap around my soft fleece blanket and the cover encloses my body into a warm cotton coffin, my heavy eyes close, leading me back into a deep sleep.