The Cursed Spark

Persin grew up in a town where electricity was prohibitively expensive. Throughout her life, she witnessed her parents, neighbors, and friends’ parents struggle with the cost. Just as communities in barren lands prayed for rain, her people performed rituals for electricity, beseeching God tirelessly. Yet, day after day, they ended up more discouraged than before. Paradoxically, they spoke of God’s generosity, omnipotence, and miraculous power, while simultaneously blaming their hardships on non-believers. They would scornfully declare, “If it wasn’t for this or that, we wouldn’t be in this situation. God is punishing us.” Persin was profoundly perplexed. Didn’t these same people preach about God’s love and generosity? Yet, she feared her own audacity and quickly sought forgiveness.

Deep down, she found this logic flawed, despite the prevailing beliefs around her. She couldn’t pinpoint the origin of this bold feeling but dared not voice it. She nodded along, joining the endless complaints. In the sanctuary of her mind, where her thoughts became vivid dreams, she imagined living in a land where electricity was free.

When she reached an age to live independently, she moved to a different country, leaving behind anxious minds, burdened by guilt. They implored her to stay, worrying about affording electricity in their old age without her. She reassured them, promising to find a solution. The long-suppressed voice in her head grew louder, challenging her embarrassment and shame. It urged, “Why can’t you see? You don’t have to do anything. Let them figure it out! When you find the place with free electricity, enjoy it for yourself.”

She questioned her own nature. Hadn’t these people done everything for her? How could she be so disloyal and ungrateful to those in need?

To her dismay, this new place proved no different. She found herself grappling with mounting bills and dead-end jobs. Lying restlessly in bed, she protested, “Here is the reality: I am trying so hard, yet all my efforts seem futile. And here is my foolish mind, still fighting as if I’m doing something wrong.”

Years passed, leaving her drained and devoid of enthusiasm. Joy was elusive, and electricity scarce, while she continued dreaming of a utopian place where power was free and accessible. Before she realized it, she was forced to leave this country too, more fearful than ever. If the place she entered with high hopes turned out so dismal, what awaited her in the new one?

Upon arriving in a distant part of the world, she finally breathed a sigh of relief. For once, she saw happy faces. As night fell, tears of joy streamed down her face as she observed homes lit up like stars, brighter than anything she had ever seen. “This has got to be the place from my dreams,” she thought, feeling a rush of joy and energy. She couldn’t wait to see where she would live, worry-free at last.

A respected real estate agent showed her the house. She loved it, already imagining her forever home, picturing herself enjoying coffee on the porch, surrounded by a well-lit environment.

The agent’s physical proximity snapped her out of her reverie. He leaned in with a serious expression, gesturing for silence. She awkwardly smiled and asked him to repeat himself. The agent coughed and whispered, “First thing you need to do is find proper cables and connect your home’s power grid to that house you see in the distance. Make sure no one sees you do this!”

A knot formed in her stomach. Fear gripped her as her mind raced. Staring at the agent with watery eyes, she struggled not to cry. “Wait, are you telling me I’m supposed to be a power pirate?” she asked, her voice trembling. The agent appeared genuinely puzzled. “That’s what we all do,” he shrugged defensively. “Only a few in this town can afford electricity. They sort of know but are too wealthy to care. So why whisper and advise secrecy?” she questioned. “The sheriff patrols often, and since his power is government-funded, he considers himself privileged. He doesn’t want others enjoying the same benefits.”

Persin’s world began to crumble. She had invested all her remaining hope and energy in this place. Everything she had grown up believing was true! Overwhelmed by guilt, shame, and embarrassment, tears burned her cheeks. How could she forgive herself? How did she ever believe in a place with free electricity for all? Was she truly this naive?

The persistent voice in her head started again. “Oh no, no, no!” she shouted. “Don’t you dare!” She was fuming. Yet, something unexpected happened. The voice, calm and authoritative, suggested, “Knock on the door of that house you’re supposed to steal electricity from and ask them!” Collapsing on her bed, she was convinced she was losing her mind.

Despite everything, she couldn’t ignore the feeling that consumed her. She couldn’t recall the last time she felt so alive. She was buzzing, but positively so, calm and relieved. Her mind, once a war zone, was now at peace. Oh, what a wonderful state to be in! The tears on her face and neck seemed to belong to someone else. The betrayal and disappointment that once overshadowed her life felt like distant memories. What was happening? She longed for this feeling to linger but struggled to stay awake. Before drifting into a peaceful slumber, her whispers echoed, “Please, just a little longer.”

Persin opened her eyes slightly and took a deep breath, followed by a profound sigh. Was she smiling? Suddenly, the memory of the previous night flooded back. She sprang into a sitting position. Was it real? Did that moment truly occur? Her heart began to race, yet a delightful energy lingered around her. Not only had she enjoyed the best sleep of her life, but she also found herself blinking rapidly as she recalled the force and vitality with which she had risen just moments ago. The body she had dragged out of bed had awakened like a cartoon character! Then, a churning feeling and an odd sensation in her belly took over as she remembered the unmistakable message. “Oh heck no!” she exclaimed aloud. She spent the rest of her day in an almost sleepwalking state, brimming with energy and a sensation she hesitated to call happiness, but guessed it must be.

Finally, in the late afternoon, she sat on her front porch with her favorite tea. She thought, if I could just calm down for a moment, I might finally be able to make up my mind about all of this. After a long, deep breath and an even longer exhale, she made a decision. She was going to do it, after finishing her tea. She was going to walk over there, knock on the door, and put all of this behind her soon. She felt relieved; she now had her chance with solid proof. Best-case scenario, she wouldn’t even be invited in. Worst-case scenario, she might be belittled, yelled at, or perhaps even have the cops called on her. She didn’t care either way; she was certain of one thing: this entire act of madness would silence that annoying voice forever, and she would uncover the truth—a truth that had been incessantly recited to her since childhood. The tug-of-war between the voice and reality would finally cease.

When she saw the bottom of her cup, having not realized she had been drinking her tea and now finished it, panic set in. “Nope, lady, you are not hiding this time. Get up and start walking,” she told herself with a firm voice she could hardly believe came from her.

This was all real and happening. She stood, feeling diminutive in front of the massive door, fearing her own hand’s almost independent movement toward the doorbell. Time seemed to stand still; her movements felt like slow motion, and her breathing sounded foreign. Before she could turn and flee, a maid opened the door. She was very intimidating—tall yet graceful. Her face betrayed no emotion, especially not the ones Persin secretly hoped for, such as pity or disturbance, perhaps even anger. Instead, she asked, “How may I help you?”

Persin stuttered, and her words sounded distant to her own ears. “May I please speak with the owner of this property?” Did she really say that?

The maid stepped aside, gently guiding her into the enormous and elegant foyer. “I am dreaming,” she said to herself. “Why is she letting me in? Oh my God, what am I going to say to the owner? This is preposterous. I have truly gone off the deep end, haven’t I?”

While she drowned in self-doubt and pity, an older lady began descending the stairs toward her. Was she gliding? Persin blinked heavily. The lady was dressed in the finest clothes Persin had ever seen, yet nothing was ostentatious as she had anticipated. Her beautiful silver hair was combed back to reveal her big, deep, and intelligent eyes. Nothing was unfolding as she had imagined, which frightened her even more.

She didn’t realize the lady was already in front of her, arm extended, waiting for a handshake. Caught staring and frozen, she began profusely apologizing, “I am so s-s-sorry,” Persin stuttered. The lady smiled kindly and said, “Oh, please, my dear, all is well. My name is Felinda. Who are you, and to what do I owe this pleasure?”

Expecting to be shouted at and dragged out by her hair, the kindness she received began to calm her nerves. As soon as Persin introduced herself as the new neighbor, the old lady transformed into a little girl reunited with her best friend from elementary school. To her surprise, she found herself in the lady’s arms, receiving the tightest hug. Okay, now this was getting bizarre. When the lady finally released her, which felt like an eternity, she saw tears in those graceful eyes. “I can’t believe this! A neighbor! From this town? I must have done something right to receive such blessings on a day no one ever thought would come!”

Persin giggled. Not because of what the two figures standing there might have thought, but because of what crossed her mind: “I finally found my match. This poor little lady is crazier than I am.”

At that point, the lady was nearly dragging her by the hand into a reception room that was tastefully adorned. She continued to chatter animatedly while directing her to a seat beside her on the largest couch she had ever seen.

Felinda clasped both of Persin’s hands. “Oh, my dear child, you have no idea what a momentous occasion this is. It has been generations since anyone outside our usual circle has approached one of us. I cannot fathom how I have been granted such an honor. This is a historic moment, my dear. It signifies the end of a long, dark era and heralds joy and light with the lifting of the curse.”

Was Persin meant to comprehend any of this? Had she inadvertently entered an asylum? She didn’t wish to appear rude, but none of this made sense, and her irritation was growing by the minute. All she could manage to mutter was, “I don’t understand.”

The lady laughed with a childlike tone, apologizing while dabbing her eyes with a delicate, powdery pink handkerchief—did they still make those? Signaling something to her maid with sparkling eyes, she refocused on Persin and cheerfully said, “Please forgive my inexcusable behavior; I didn’t even wait to hear why you came. I’ll explain everything once I’ve heard what you have to say.”

Persin had never experienced such kindness and apologies from anyone before. She then realized what was happening. This must be a cult, and they required a young offering for whatever they worshipped. She needed to voice her concerns and leave swiftly.

“Ma’am…” The lady interjected gently, “Please call me Felinda.” “Ugh, sure, umm, I moved into that house visible from your front door yesterday. I was informed that I needed to,” she took a deep breath and closed her eyes tightly before proceeding, “acquire some proper cables and connect them to your mains for electricity. I know I shouldn’t be saying this aloud, especially to the homeowner from whom I’m supposed to steal power, but I felt compelled to inform you. I was told that this is what everyone else does and that it’s all known to people like yourself. I won’t attempt to deny any of this; go ahead and call the authorities. I don’t know what I was thinking, but here I am, and it’s too late to retract everything.” She slowly opened her eyes, only to see the elderly lady shaking her head in disbelief. Still, there was no sign of anger or frustration, just that unsettlingly gentle, loving, and genuinely confused expression.

“You see, people like myself, we are all aware of this madness that has persisted for centuries, yet none of us understand how or why it began. At some point, I suppose we simply grew weary of it and decided to carry on with our lives within our small circle of friends and the comfort of our families.”

They have a name for us: Privillagers. Me, my family and the others who make the elite group of this town, descend from long lines of affluent families. We’ve been shunned like the plague for centuries. No one, absolutely no one, dares to approach us. It’s been at least a couple of centuries since someone spoke to one of us.

My dear father used to recount tales he heard from his own grandfather. The story of how this absurdity began goes something like this: When the first tower was being constructed by the inventors of the old times, only the skilled and brilliant minds were present on-site. Without modern equipment and machinery, there came a point where raw strength was needed. Everyone knew of a man whose might was as great as ten horses. He wasn’t the sharpest of minds, and many believed he was even mentally challenged. The night before the tower’s grand unveiling, he was instructed to carry the final heavy piece to a marked spot and leave immediately without touching anything. The important men had other engagements and couldn’t wait for him. As night fell, not fully understanding what this colossal object was, he carried the block upwards. While descending, his foot became entangled in one of the circuits, and he fell. As he plummeted, the last thing he saw with terror-stricken eyes was the crackling electricity. When he awoke with a pounding headache and dried blood on his face, he fled in panic. This was the devil’s work. There were evil spirits within this structure. It was the apocalypse. That buzzing, otherworldly cloud of God’s curse would obliterate anyone who ventured near it.

He recounted this to his wife, weeping like a frightened child. His poor wife was already terrified at the sight of her invincible husband covered in blood, but what frightened her most was his tears. This was a man who never flinched at anything that would give a normal person nightmares.

The wife shared this tale with her family, and her family spread it to their neighbors. Soon, details emerged about how the tower was guarded by powerful individuals with special devices to keep commoners at bay. These guards were described almost as mythical creatures with devices seemingly forged from the depths of hell. It didn’t take long for this story to reach the farthest corners of the world. Over the years, the story morphed, but one madman’s tale became a widely held belief. We were unaffected by it due to our ancestors’ involvement in the construction of the first tower. They were the high-ranking, brilliant minds of their time. This is why we have always had access to what we now call the dreaded tower of doom.

As Privillagers, we are aware of how others pilfer electricity from our properties, for reasons that elude us. These people also know that we are aware. The entire situation defies reason, but it is what it is. Until you arrived. You are not the first “new resident” in this town, but you are the first to approach us. I suppose all the others simply complied with what they were initially told, and none dared for centuries to do what you have just done.”

Persin was unaware that she had been shaking her head in disbelief the entire time. Her thoughts raced, and her heart pounded. This cannot be; this woman seems lovely, but I fear she is unhinged. Seeing Persin’s discomfort and near-audible confusion, Felinda gently placed her hand on Persin’s knee. “I understand,” she said, “but I have a better idea. I’ll tell the driver to prepare the car right away. How about I take you to the tower so you can see it yourself?” “YES!” Persin exclaimed, immediately covering her mouth in embarrassment. Felinda chuckled and stood, heading towards the foyer.

Persin sank into the plush couch as if waiting for it to envelop her and provide solace. Her body felt like a concrete block. She covered her head with both arms and tried to breathe deeply. She didn’t feel ready to see what lay ahead. She didn’t know how to process any of it.

During the entire car ride, the woman chattered like a bird about things Persin couldn’t hear. She nodded and murmured aha, hmm, trying to feign interest. The car slowed as they approached a densely wooded area. These trees were the tallest she had ever seen. The car carefully navigated the narrow dirt road, overshadowed by these massive trees. Felinda gave a gentle squeeze on her leg, prompting Persin to look up and see her pointing ahead.

Persin gasped audibly. A hundred feet away, she could see the base of a colossal structure. She barely waited for the car to stop before she bolted out. Running towards the tower, nothing around her mattered. When she finally halted at the base, panting as though she’d run a marathon, she looked up in vain to see where the tower ended. Somewhere far above, higher than an eagle’s flight, the tower vanished into the clouds.

Then she noticed millions of outlets, all empty, encrusted with the dust and grime of ages. Only about ten cables were plugged in. She fell to her knees, sobbing uncontrollably.

Felinda stood back, giving her space, tears streaming down her kind face as she watched with her hand on her heart.

On the ride back, all Persin recalled was calling her family with joy, urging them to gather the entire town because she was coming and everyone needed to be there! She remembered asserting, “Tell them it is a matter of life or death,” with undeniable authority.

The entire trip blurred in her memory. Her body felt like a million hands tightly clasping her unleashed spirit. One thing stood out, though: she found no “I told you so” in her thoughts. Although she mulled over countless ways to break the news to her people, despite years of fantasies, she didn’t feel anger. Her heart was filled with pure compassion. All she wished for was an eraser the size of the skies, to cleanse years of unnecessary struggles, sorrows, and conflicts from people’s hearts.

A God taught as vindictive, punishing, stingy, and almost sadistic was the biggest lie of all. What human beings believed unanimously turned into realities. Truth was pushed hid behind a wall of lies, misconceptions, and crippling beliefs. A looming, terrifying force created by nothing but simple human beliefs, felt more real than her hands. Years of fear, doubt and suffering, which nothing else was able to help slightly, dissipated within mere seconds.

She nearly stumbled out of the cab, briskly approaching the confused crowd. She pierced through their questions, disapproving grunts, and murmurs. When she reached the center, she took the deepest breath of her life and screamed, “It is all over!” Silence fell, and you could hear a pin drop. Then, people began to look at each other. Her family stood beside her, shocked and embarrassed. She shouted, “Everyone, follow me!”

Her energy and resolute steps convinced them. They followed her, struggling to match her pace. As they neared their destination, terrified voices of refusal grew louder. She stopped, turned, and faced the frightened crowd. She met each person’s gaze and declared, “What I am about to show you will change your lives and generations to come. You’ve known me almost my entire life, and my family too. Though I’ve been called many names, dishonest or unreliable was never one of them. I promise you, nothing bad will happen. For once, set aside your fears and have true faith.”

Without waiting for a response, she turned with the authority of a commander and headed towards the tower. The path to the tower resembled a wild jungle. Nature had reclaimed the land where humans had given up.

They entered the vacant, dust-laden grounds of the tower. You could hear the wind and the rustling clothes of people until someone began running towards the tower. The rest cheered, cried, and danced, kicking up clouds of dust.

Lives transformed in that moment, for generations to come. Persin’s life would become a beloved bedtime story, not because of the now freely available electricity, but because of how an adult followed the voice of her child-heart. Though her nature had been deemed different, unacceptable, and out of touch by those around her, causing self-doubt and sadness, a moment of courage changed everything. Persin’s child-heart always remembered the truth, which millions of adult hearts had forgotten.

This story is also for you, for the child-heart within you. Long neglected and pushed into a dark chamber in your chest. Unlike your adult mind, it holds no grudges. Though it may feel a bit sad, it patiently and lovingly waits for your cue, ready to transform you forever.