80

The following text is a translation of an essay I wrote in my last year of High School. The assignment was to write about one of several topics and discuss a few specific points. My topic ended up being about growing up and rites of passage.

Something that more and more people talk about and discuss these days is how and when you become an adult. Does the transformation occur when during confirmation at 15, when you are of legal age at 18, or when you can purchase alcohol in stores at [20], or at an even later milestone that slips my mind? The only answer I can provide to that question is that I am 18 years old, confirmed, and not an adult.

   Only a few years ago I would probably had said that you become adult when you body stops developing. As you can probably see from that small comment I used to look on problems through a black/white natural science lens even when that had nothing to do with it, but at least I had an answer.

   Nowadays I sit and observe my close friends and family via their status updates on Facebook. I have a hard time feeling anything other than that I've fallen behind on the growing-adult bit when I compare myself to friends my age. One of my friends has a flat with their boyfriend of four years, while I sit alone in my untidy room where I've lived for all of my life. One of my friends has during the time I've known them gone through more than five relationships while I've barely had contact with the outside world. But when I really think about it I don't think they are more adult than I am. I think the reason they seem adult in my eyes is that I don't know what they think about during the days, while I keep almost 100% check on my own "childish" thoughts of the day. To be an adult probably lies very much in how others see you. Few probably feel [they take] a definite step to adulthood before 40, but a lot of people have probably found a way to give the illusion of being an adult long before that.

   We've all probably heard about how no one wants to feel adult, and there's probably something to it. De images I conjure when imagining an adult person is often someone who sits in traffic on their way to a grey office where they work for eight hours before they go back through traffic home, and I don't think I'm alone with that image. Who looks forward to being a being a dry old man (or woman) who just sits and is grouchy on the way to the office, at the office, and on the way from the office? If the majority share my perhaps a bit exaggerated and almost antique image of what it is to be an adult then perhaps it's not that weird that few want to feel adult.

   Jonas Cramby wrote a chronicle for the journal Café in which he mentions how humans throughout history has had numerous different rites that a boy has to complete to become a man. These rites were important points in the young man's life and gave a predetermined path to become an adult. Without these rites we wander around in the dark while at the same time trying to find others who've gotten a bit further to imitate. On the one hand we are not bound by tradition and rules, while on the other we have no idea of how or what we need to do to be adult in the eyes of both us and the world at large. Maybe it wouldn't be that bad to reintroduce old, or perhaps new, rites. It could be a test or a little game to end childhood with, and we could use those adult points that so many are talking about for something concrete: "Gather ten adult points and achieve adulthood." That'd be something.

79

My footsteps echoed against the marble walls as I made my way towards the back of the church. I knelt down as I got close to the altar and started feeling around beneath the top of it. The informant had said I should search here, this was supposed to be the place, and yet I couldn't-
   "Aha!" I whispered as the button let loose a soft 'click'.
   The altar began to rumble silently and the ground trembled under my feet. I took a few steps back as the stone cracked open and revealed a stair leading down deeper into the earth.
   Before I had a chance to take a single step further a dark, shadowy figure appeared from the tunnel and towered above me. I could feel my heartbeat stop for a second. Even though I had been told about this I felt completely unprepared as the creature stood staring. I licked my lips and try to recall what the informant had told me. There was a codephrase I was supposed to utter. I cleared my throat.
   "Mr. Smythe, I presume?"
   I could feel a single drop of sweat run down my forehead. The shadow took a bow and stepped aside, allowing me passage to the stairs. The first challenge had been passed, now awaited the second.

78

Last summer me and some friends spent an evening out by the jetty. We brought a charcoal grill, food, and drinks with us to keep our bellies full as we sat and talked about all things big and small. As time went by it would soon be an hour past midnight and we decided to pack our things. Two of us carried the grill, two brought the chairs and blankets, and I was left carrying the trash we'd assembled.
   We walked along a path that took us through a cluster of trees thick enough to hide us from the starlight sky above us. It was here that my attention left the jolly conversation we were having, and instead looked up at the tree crowns above us. I saw a tiny light, barely bright enough to light up branch it seemed to be resting on. My pace slowed as I tried deciding on what it was that peered down on us from above. Suddenly the light started moving, soaring down from the tree and hovering just a few feet from the ground. I'm still not certain, but at the time I could swear that it was twinkling at me, like the stars had done earlier, and then started moving away from the path. I dropped the bags of trash at my feet and cautiously followed it through the undergrowth.
   The little speck of light continued floating away, yet still beckoning for me to follow. Through bushes, over streams, and beneath fallen trees. I don't know for how long I followed it, but eventually we ended up in a clearing with tall grass and a mirror-like pond in the centre. My curiosity had long since overcome my sense of caution and I walked over to peer into the water. The reflections of the stars lay calmly in the water and then started floating up into the air, joining the speck of light that I had followed. The multitude of lights started twirling around my body, up and down, as if in a dance. I felt how I was pulled up by some unseen force and closed my eyes. In the darkness I could feel how the lights lifted me above the trees and higher still. How to be so far up and still feel completely safe is difficult to explain. I opened my eyes.
   My friends were packing up our things on the jetty. They laughed and said that I had fallen asleep an hour ago, but I was just in time to carry the bags of trash back to the cars. As we passed through the tree cluster I searched for the little speck but was unsuccessful in finding it. We made our way to the cars and drove home.
   I know you won't believe my story. That's all right. You don't have to believe it. I know it happened, and that's good enough for me.

77

I had my chance at glory once; to mingle with the upper crust of society at their fancy parties, and to wear fine jewellery and fine robes.
   Instead I chose the path of the common man; I turned away from my friends and found new kinsmen among the gutter-folk. There I toiled for years greasing the gears of our community, making sure everything worked as it was supposed to. Frequently I would get yelled at whenever anything was ever so slightly off, even if it made no practical difference.
   I saw my old friends the other day. They were walking down the street in their riches, with servants following suit. I pondered whether I had made the right choice all those years ago...

76

Lysinne stood gazing on her balcony, her vision carried far and wide by the winds of magic. In the far east she could see as her workers toiled in the mines, making sure her armies would get their gold. In the west stretched endless fields of grass and greenery dotted with the farms that fed the people of her empire.
   "The Kingslayer has arrived." One of her servants interrupted, bowing deeply before the sorceress.
   Lysinne left her state of meditation and her eyes turned back to their natural blue. "Do let him in." She entered the chamber behind her and walked over to a large circular table with different figurines representing both her and her enemies' forces.
   "M'lady."
   "Arbak! What news from the front-lines?" She greeted her draconian general.
   "We have crushed the forces of the heathen wizard." He said, while taking out a sack from beneath his cloak. He emptied a bearded head onto the floor. "He should be of no more trouble to us."
   The sorceress smiled and waved her arm over the table, making some of the enemy figurines disappear into nothingness. The two of them stood and looked over situation depicted on the table.
   For the past six years the empire had been in a state of constant war. Lysinne has claimed the throne of her empire after defeating the neighbouring magicians and warlords who opposed her rule. Arbak had been the first to recognize her leadership and powers and in doing so saved his draconian tribe from what would've been sure destruction, and instead made them the finest front line soldiers of Lysinne's magical empire. Together they had defeated nation after nation, slaying warlords and kings alike. Now all that was standing between them and domination of the known world was the underground dwarfish city states.
   "Prepare your armies. March them towards the Deep Gate and into the land of the dwarfs." The sorceress eventually said.
   "As you wish m'lady." Arbak bowed and left the chambers.
   Left alone Lysinne turned to the balcony again. She grasped her staff and raised it towards the skies. A bolt of lightning pierced upwards through the clouds, and far away to the south, where the mountains ran deep into the earth, the ground cracked open revealing the towers of dwarfs.

75

What do you do when you realise you're the bad guy. When you find yourself opposite those advocating personal freedoms seemingly despite a lack of rational thought. Do you stand fast in your belief and argue against their cause, or do you simply slip away into the shadows and leave it all behind.

74

The clock is slowly creeping towards midnight. My father lies in his bed and breathes irregularly. He's about to leave us soon, we all know it. His grandchildren has already said their farewells, as has his friends. Now it's just him and me, father and son. The only thing keeping the room from being totally consumed by silence is the clock ticking on the wall.

   I hold his hand, more for my own sake than his. He's barely conscious and at times I doubt if he knows I'm even there with him. His face is in a state of constant pain. He moans ever so slightly and his lips trembles. I help him to the glass of water on the night table.

   Suddenly he bolts up as the bell chimes twelve. He looks straight at the door. I turn around but see nothing. He doesn't reply to my attempts to talk to him.

   "Suzie" he lets out before slumping back into the bed. Dead.

   Two weeks later a burial is held. It's a private affair with only a handful of people. When the ceremony is over everyone starts milling towards the parking lot and the cars. I stay back and take a final look at the tombstone before I return to my family.

Suzanne Clifford

8 April 1938 - 4 June 1968

Harry Clifford

5 July 1931 - 3 March 2014