chapter 2- a joyful responsibility

Darkness. The last thing I remembered as I fell back onto the cold soil of the town square. Darkness. The first thing I felt when I awoke from that terrible dream. I rose out of bed, oddly enough I was wearing my church gown, and it had bits of mud clinging to the fine fabric. ‘No, this isn’t right. That was a dream, the sacrifice hasn’t happened yet … right?’ I thought, before I was interrupted by Proctress Isabel. “So, that wasn’t a dream. I’m the consort of the harvest.” I said with a heavy sigh. Proctress Isabel held my chin to get a better look at me and said, “This is your destiny, the harvest chose you. You should be happy to have such an important responsibility. Especially one in which you only have to surrender yourself to gluttony and indolence. Yes, this is not done without sacrifice, but it’s sacrificing who you are now, skin and bones that you are, but also your mind, to a better existence. As much as the sacrifice is focused on you and your loss, the harvest is truly sacrificing the most. That’s why we do this, not only to earn the harvests love and protection but to say thank you for choosing our village to lead to prosperity.”
“I just don’t understand why I have to become so fat. Wouldn’t it be a much better sacrifice if I were to lose weight, or just be killed?” I asked, almost pleading for the other options rather than growing into some bloated sow. “It wouldn’t be enough for the harvest. It doesn’t want famine or death, it wants prosperity. It wants harmony, and the consort of the harvest is the covenant that binds the harvest and the village together. You aren’t just changing your body for the harvest, you're surrendering your mind, your very being to the harvest. In this way, the harvest and the town manifest both a physical and spiritual connection that guarantees our unity,” said Proctress Isabel. ‘My mind? First it was just being turned into a fat hog, now it wants my mind. No, there must be some way out of this. Some way I can disqualify myself from being its consort. If not that, just something I can do to keep it away from my mind, if not my body.’ I thought.

Proctress Isabel must have sensed my mind racing from this revelation, but before she could offer any comfort, Proctor Louis entered with Prefect Tadley and Prefect Prescot. I knew Rachel Tadley and Abigail Prescot from school, but my mother never let me play with them as children, so we never spent time together. At first, I only noticed who was behind Proctor Louis, not what it was that they were holding. Two trays loaded high with an assortment of food that would have impressed even the wealthiest of families in the village. “Jane, due to your accident during the sacrifice, I let you have some time to rest. However, its time now to begin your duties as the consort of the harvest. Prefect Tadley and Prescot are my very best, they will help you adjust to your new surroundings and aid you with any problems that may arise as things progress,” said Proctor Louis, carefully avoiding directly mentioning what type of progress would be achieved. “No,” I said. Proctress Isabel sat up from the foot of my bed, a worried look on her face before she masked it with a feigned smile. As if my words were merely a silly novelty, not a genuine refusal of the harvest’s wishes. “No? I must have misheard what you said, dear. There is no refusing the harvest. You are its consort, and that is that. You can attempt to fight this but know that Prefects Tadley and Prescot are just as capable wardens as they are servants. It’s your choice if this will be a joyous responsibility, or a dreadful one. Just the same, it is your responsibility and it will be carried out,” said Proctor Louis, swiftly turning on his heel and exiting the room in a huff before I could get another word in edgewise. “Think about this, dear. This could be the beginning of a new, wonderful life for you. You just need to let the harvest in,” said Proctress Isabel, leaving the room to I suspect calm Proctor Louis down and spare me any future reprisals for my disrespect.

With that, it was just Rachel, Abigail and I. For a moment, things were quiet. Then it started. All I could do was bury my head into my pillow before they stowed the trays and leapt upon me, restraining me to the posts of the bed. They knew just as well as I did that there was no way I was going to make this easy for them, so they didn’t even try to give me the option of compliance. I struggled against my binds as they began to feed me, I tried to keep my mouth shut but Abigail pinched my nose shut until I gasped for air. With that, Rachel shoved a slice of pie into my mouth. Abigail then put her hand over my mouth before I could spit it out, but even then, I refused to swallow. “Fine, if you won’t swallow it, then we’ll just have to wash it down with something!” hissed Rachel. Rachel grabbed a pitcher and began to pour it down my throat. I was horrified, not just because of the level of violence exhibited by Abigail and Rachel, but because whatever drink Rachel was pouring tasted amazing. I didn’t want to like it, I wanted it to taste of bile and disgust me so much that my body simply would reject it from entering. But this was delicious, and as much as I wanted to gag and spew up the vile drink, it had me wanting more.

So, that was that. I had no choice but to endure my first session of mandatory gluttony, but as much as my body was being corrupted by the fattening desserts and delicacies that were forced down my throat by those damned prefects, my mind was still pure, still me. I thought of my mother and sister, of school and my friends, of the fields we roamed and the woods we explored together. I knew that no matter what, I would come out of this myself, and I would roam the fields and explore the woods with them again.