Maresi by Maria Turtschaninoff EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available For Free Download
- Author: Maria Turtschaninoff
- Language: English
- Genre: Teen & Young Adult Fiction on Physical & Emotional Abuse
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
MY NAME IS MARESI ENRESDAUGHTER and I write this in the
nineteenth year of the reign of our thirty-second Mother. In the
four years since I came to the Red Abbey I have read nearly all the
ancient scriptures about its history. Sister O says that this story of mine
will become a new addition to the archives. It seems strange. I am only a
novice, not an abbess, not a learned sister. But Sister O says it is
important that I am the one who writes down what happened. I was there.
Second-hand stories are not to be trusted.
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I am no storyteller. Not yet. But by the time I am and can tell the story
as it should be told, I will have forgotten. So I am recording my
memories now, while they are still fresh and sharp in my mind. Not much
time has passed, only one spring. I can still vividly recall certain things I
would rather forget. The smell of blood. The sound of crunching bones. I
do not want to bring it all up again. But I have to. It is difficult to write
about death. But that is no excuse not to.
I am telling the story to make sure the Abbey never forgets. But also
so that I can fully grasp what happened. Reading has always helped me
to understand the world better. I hope the same applies to writing.
I am thinking about my words more than anything. Which ones will
conjure up the right images without distorting or embellishing the truth?
What is the weight of my words? I will do my best only to describe what
is relevant to my story and leave out everything else, but Goddess forgive
me if I do not always succeed in my task.
It is also difficult to know where a story begins and when it ends. I do
not know where the ending is. It does not feel like it has come yet. But
the beginning is easy. It all began when Jai came to the island.
I WAS HARVESTING MUSSELS DOWN ON THE beach on the spring morning
when Jai arrived. When my basket was half full I sat down on a rock
to rest for a moment. The sun had not climbed up over White Lady
Mountain yet, the beach was in shade and my feet were cold from the
seawater. The round pebbles beneath my feet rattled back and forth in
rhythm with the motion of the sea. A red-billed koan bird hopped at the
water’s edge, also looking for mussels. The wading bird had just speared
a shell with its long beak when a little boat appeared near the Teeth, the
high, narrow rocks which protrude straight up out of the sea.
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