Author’s Note: This little short was inspired by “Dialogue Between a Priest and a Dying Man” written by the Marquis de Sade, which I read yesterday morning. I wrote this directly after because I thought the idea he presented was interesting. Although, in his work, he chose religion as the subject and I have chosen fate. Two people discussing a subject to which they have opposing views of. My style of writing in this piece is certainly no match for his, but again, it was the set-up for the story that inspired me so I played with it. This was a quick visit for me into his playground. It’s short, but hopefully, I got some kind of point across. Read on, my lovelies.

 SEQ CHAPTER \h \r 1THE MYSTERIES OF FATE

BY:

DAVINA BLAYDE

Our quaint little tale begins, not in some far away kingdom or fairy tale land, but among us. In a home like any other, no different from your next door neighbor’s. We enter into a room of moderate taste, full of cheap appliances and good intentions, where a mother is preparing breakfast for herself and her daughter, who is about to leave home to experience life in all its youthful luxury. In other words, she is heading off to college. The daughter sits at the dining table, the only elegant thing in the room, with a cup of mint flavored tea in her pudgy hand. The mother, meanwhile, busies herself with the bacon on the stove, which emits a rich aroma into the surrounding air as the slinky strips turn crispy and begin to resemble a caterpillar in motion with their curved shape.

 SEQ CHAPTER \h \r 1As one would understand, the mother is having a bit of difficulty with accepting her child’s departure from her home, but more importantly, from her life, as parents often see it. Sorrowful that she is about to be alone once again, since her husband had left years before with not so much as a farewell kiss, she begins to reflect on her life’s choices and the effect they have had on both her daughter and herself. A firm believer in the notion that one’s decisions affect their future, she is weighed down by self-pity and her regret that she made some careless choices in her young life that she is now paying the price for in her older years. In her early forties, she had neither a house nor a husband and this unfortunate fact caused her great grief at times.

Her daughter, on the other hand, was a firm believer in fate. Adamant about her choice to believe in a pre-determined destiny, she did not share her mother’s regret and sorrow. For she believed that it was ridiculous to feel such negative emotions about events that one did not have full control over to begin with. For this, she was spared her mother’s fate of depression and solitude. Never one to be kicked down by setbacks or lack self-confidence, she was one that set her sights to the sky and challenged herself by setting new goals in arts and sciences. However, confident as she was in her belief of destiny, her views also gave way to her arrogance and stubborn attitude which made it clear she cared nothing for the effect her lifestyle had on others. Content to live her life day by day, she believed that whatever was in store for her would come naturally simply because that is what a higher power wanted. Believing that she could not change the future whatever her action, she went about her business without a care in the world, as it would seem.

The mother, wishing her daughter would cast aside her cavalier attitude in favor of one that possessed more responsibility, was trying once again to better understand her offspring’s way of thinking by involving the both of them in a discussion that calls for our attention. So, dear readers, it is this discussion to which we now must lend our ears.

Mother: Are you all packed and ready to go?

Daughter: Yes, finished the last of it late last night.

Mother: When are you leaving?

Daughter: As soon as I finish this tea. Then it’s dorm room bound for me. I must say it’s going to be strange though. I’ve never been away from here for more than a week. But I’m sure I’ll adjust.

Mother: You always do.

Daughter: Yeah, but your breakfasts I will miss. The next time you see me I’ll be as thin as a runway model. I’m not going to have that good ol’ country cooking to come home to anymore. These extra pounds are going to dwindle away in no time. You won’t even recognize me.

Mother: I’ll always recognize you. You’ll always be my little girl.

Daughter: That’s what I’m afraid of. You know how I hate that, mom. I’m not a little girl anymore. Can’t you treat me my age?

Mother: When you begin to act like it.

Daughter: What is that supposed to mean?

Mother: When you learn to accept the responsibility of being an adult.

Daughter: What responsibilities am I missing, pray tell?

Mother: The ones that deal with your actions.

Daughter: I take responsibility for all of my actions. I accept all consequences and rewards that come my way.

Mother: Yes, but you do it not because you recognize your faults and good deeds and want to accept those awards and consequences, but because of your asinine belief that all your actions are predetermined and that whatever comes your way is by no doing of yours. You have no true understanding of the effect your actions and words will have on your life.

Daughter: First of all, your misconceptions of me are obviously well thought out. But they are misconceptions. Do not put words in my mouth since I do not do so with you. You cannot tell a person why they do or do not do things. Especially if you have no clear understanding of their point of view, as you have mentioned to me countless times before. What you believe is no better than what I believe. If you accept that, this discussion can end quickly.

Mother: But I do want to understand your point of view. You baffle me sometimes with your arguments. I can never understand quite where you’re coming from. You seem to be against everything I have tried to instill in you since you were a young child.

Daughter: I’m not against your morals and values, mother. I simply choose to have different ones. Why can you not accept that?

Mother: Because I think some of yours are wrong and not in accordance with what we have been taught.

Daughter: If we have been taught things by others, who are these teachers that you speak of and what were the lessons?

Mother: My parents, schoolteachers, philosophers, the bible.

Daughter: Please save the discussion of the bible for another time. I do not wish to bring it into this one nor do I think it has to do with what we are discussing. And as for the rest, what truly good lessons do you think they saw fit to preach at us?

Mother: Lessons about life and what is right and what is wrong. The way we should treat each other, our duties to the ones that granted us this life and everything we receive in it.

Daughter: What are those duties? To love, cherish, and obey?

Mother: Yes. Do you not think we should honor them?

Daughter: You may honor them as you wish. Personally, I do not think I should obey everything that someone tells me, simply because they were born several years before me or lucky enough to have been granted authority over an entire country. I will not obey that which I do not have faith in. Some philosophies ring true with me, but not others. I love those individuals that I hold dear to my heart, and I admit that there are only a select few that are worthy of that privilege. I love you, you are my mother. You have been there for me through sickness and health and always supported my unusual habits. But I cannot agree with everything that you say simply because you are my parent. You must come to terms that although I love you dearly and hold as much respect for you as I can muster, I have my own path to walk and cannot agree with you and your beliefs one hundred percent. If I did, I would cease to be an individual. Instead I would be like some lab creation. A scientific experiment meant only to serve a scientist’s plan. Obviously, I was meant to be born. Otherwise I would have been eliminated long before I was birthed, just like several of your other pregnancies that did not reach full term. I was chosen to be here, for what reason, I do not know. I may never know. But whatever I was put here to do, will be done. In that I believe. What occurs in this world happens only because it was meant to, to achieve whatever goal it was set to accomplish. It makes way for the next step of whatever plan has been laid out for us and for the rest of the world.

Mother: So, you think we cannot change anything?

Daughter: The real question is, should we want to? I know that some things that happen in our lifetimes are not pleasant. But they occur for a reason. Personally, I think they are nature’s way of weeding out the weak so the strong can survive, as they say. It’s a test. If you pass or fail is all up to the individual. You can walk around asking, why me? Or you can walk around and say, so shall it be. It’s up to you. I have not the answer for why good and evil inhabit the same man, nor do I know if there is a life after this one. But I do know that whatever happens is meant to be. We all suffer hardships, but we must survive them. That’s just my opinion, I know you don’t share it.

Mother: I just think we can learn from past mistakes and make sure that they do not occur again.

Daughter: But again, how do you know that they are not supposed to repeat themselves? How do you know that those mistakes are not meant to happen again?

Mother: Because I think it’s too big of a coincidence that we are informed about mistakes in the past that caused so much grief and destruction. I think we are told about them so that we can stop them from happening again. Perhaps we can save ourselves that way.

Daughter: From what?

Mother: From our extinction. I think we are given messages in life that come from the past that we can use to stop the spread of disease and end world hunger and create a better place to live in. Perhaps we can save this world at the same time from its own destruction.

Daughter: I admire your optimism but I think it’s blinding you to the ways of society. The people of the world are, for the most part, selfish and only concerned with their own lives. Granted, there are a few that dedicate their lives to trying to save the wilderness or find a cure for cancer, but their efforts, I believe, are in vain when looked at by way of the whole picture. You say there are messages from the past, but from my viewpoint not many can see them. Or they don’t want to see them. If the world is meant to be around in a thousand years, it will be. It’s already survived a hell of a lot. But if it’s meant to be struck by a meteor or end by way of fire and floods, then that is what will happen. No matter what you or I say. But I don’t concern myself with it for I don’t think I will be here at that time, anyway, should it occur.

Mother: Why do you have to be so pessimistic?

Daughter: I call it realism.

Mother: Whatever you call it, it’s depressing.

Daughter: That is only because you think on it too much. Let it go.

Mother: I think about it because I care what happens.

Daughter: Why? If one cannot do anything about it, why cause yourself such pain worrying about it?

Mother: Because I can’t be like you. I can’t walk out the door and say, whatever happens, happens and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.

Daughter: In case you were not aware, you just said it.

Mother: You know what I mean. I can’t believe in that. I’d like to think I have control over my own destiny.

Daughter: It’s exactly that thought that has caused you to be in a depression for half of your life. If you were to let go of the past, you would not suffer such torture at the hands of your belief. You could move on. But I cannot make that choice for you.

Mother: I know you can’t. And I know you are just trying to get me out of the rut I’ve been living in for so long. But I have to hold out hope that through my choices something good can happen. It will make me feel good knowing that I brought forth my own happiness. I have unleashed my own sadness upon myself, so I know it’s possible to turn the tables. Happiness is around the bend, but I have to earn it. We never get anything for nothing.

Daughter: I agree with you in part. But in my mind, fate will bring about your happiness or sorrow.

Mother: You always seem so sure of that.

Daughter: That’s because I am. It’s like when you die. Death will always come calling, that’s inevitable. He knows, you see, that you may not answer on the first ring, but eventually, you’ll pick up the phone. He will be on the other end.

Mother: We help to make the choice of when we die.

Daughter: How so?

Mother: Well, we can be cautious and make wiser decisions to prevent our deaths. We don’t purposely do foolish things that will inevitably cause us to get hurt.

Daughter: So you are saying that the foolish things we do are...accidental?

Mother: I’m simply saying that if you are smart you can prolong your existence.

Daughter: But we are to die no matter what.

Mother: I know that. But, don’t you want to live a long life and be healthy for as long as possible?

Daughter: I don’t much care either way. When I die, I die. I get your point, but I think that if it is your time to go, you don’t have much choice. It’s true that you can be wiser and in a way, cheat death, as it were. But running from the inevitable is a sheer waste of time, since he will catch you anyway one day. However, you can stop yourself from getting hit by a bus if you look both ways before crossing the street, but that won’t stop you from dying from a heart attack two hours later if it was simply meant to be. As I said, it’s your day to die whether you are the smartest person on the planet or a bumbling idiot. We don’t call the shots.

Mother: That could be true as well. But I’ll still stay cautious.

Daughter: Yes, of course. I hope your caution aids you in your goal for a long and prosperous life.

Mother: Thank you.

Daughter: You’re welcome. Well, it looks as though the tea is all gone. I guess it’s time to say goodbye. You gonna miss me?

Mother: More than you know.

Daughter: No one to have these deep discussions with anymore, eh?

Mother: Yeah, I shall die of loneliness before long.

Daughter: Keep that chin up. Perhaps someone will come to take my place one day.

Mother: No one can replace my own flesh and blood.

Daughter: Perhaps you’ll find a husband. I know it’s a poor substitute, but at least it will be a challenge for you so as to keep your blood pumping. I’ll miss you as well. Professors will be a poor substitute for a mother, but then I suppose you know that.

Mother: Be careful. Call me when you get there.

Daughter: Of course. 

The daughter leaves, kissing her mother goodbye, and the mother tells her daughter to be careful on the road. While driving to her destination away from home, the daughter makes a sudden, careless decision and is involved in an auto accident as a result. She dies shortly thereafter in a hospital from complications. The mother, heartbroken by her daughter’s death, falls into despair and is consoled by the residing doctor who attempted to save her daughter’s life. While aiding the return of her self-confidence they eventually begin a courtship which blossoms into a marriage that will last them the rest of their lives. They would not have met had it not been for the daughter’s death. This they realize, and are thankful because although a husband could not replace a daughter, his introduction into the mother’s life, combined with the events leading up to it, helped her to live again instead of continuing down the path of self-destruction which had been tempting her for most of her life. The mother would always remember the last conversation she had with her daughter and, for the first time since that day, would have a bit more understanding for her daughter’s point of view.

Does one truly have a hand in their own destiny as one journeys through life, choosing our own direction as we go? Or are we merely walking a path that has been laid by an all knowing hand, on bricks that lead us to our pre-planned destinations?

Since the daughter’s death was, in a way, caused by a decision she chose to make, one could argue that the mother was right all along. But let us not cast aside the daughter’s argument, that what happens in life may be the result of fate, and that everything is part of a master plan. 

The death of a loved one is a painful event, it’s true. But should we not let it be an inspiration to us, as well? One that teaches us to not be weighed down by the tragedies of life but instead to live it to the fullest each day. It’s not only our lives that hold a purpose, but the timing of our deaths as well. For out of every loss, a chance for gain is granted. And out of every sorrow, a seed of happiness can be born.