The dutch desert was lying outside in the middle of a plain. Thirteen,
and so in age, sand coloured uniforms were coming close to gathering up
at meetingtime. Heads that look down, what a weary sign. What could be
on their troubled minds? Mouths chewing on sandwhiches, eyes open to
sandblasts, feet in what is always in wildest fantasies, quicksand. The
On with the game, of power and play, this is what the youngsters had to
say: Sarah’s a witch. Yes, it is true. Backstabbed us all, she never
did right, now what with her to do? They shuffle their feet and look
from side to side, or, who looks at whom? Ania looks at Lisa, Rosie and
Karen, they look at her. Tim and Robert look in the sky, Ania looks in
the sand, and follows a sigh. And then also the sky, but seeing from
the corners, Rosie turning to Timm, then Timm back to her. But time is
running. So it is settled and the youngsters decide, no one will talk,
no one will look, no one will walk nor sleep by her side.
The supervisors got word. This girl, you left out, you excluded, made
numb, to you she is dead?! The youngsters explained. "We had to
sacrifice this girl, this witch, she was a danger to all. We were
merely trying to survive." Give up this struggle, you fools, you
deamons, the supers ordered us all, and so having said, so it was done.
In the middle of wild trees in the czech land, somewhere uphill.
Youngsters scattered on a summpercamp, colours resembling the shades of
peacefull military. The dutchmen fooling around, distracting the czech
girls, learning the words they needed to learn. English playing at
ball, daring the dutch, and from the kitchen the smell of unkown food
being prepared. The youngsters had food and play, a house to shelter
and sleep. Hence, what else could they do, but become friends.
The end was was coming near, and so the last day. Dear friends, come
inside. Take a seat, or better, lets all sit down. The czech supers had
a special ending in mind. "At last, as a celebration of our friendship,
we are going to play a game. It is a survival game, and the most
important thing is, that the most possible people survive.
have to overcome some obstacles on your way, some daring, but hurry and
help others overcome theirs." "Now imagine, we are shipwrecked and land
in on a deserted place. We can only count on eachother. I want to ask
you these questions, think about them for a while: who is your best
friend, you can tell everything to, who helps you always? The lights
dimmed, or went dim, no one spoke a word. Glances sparked around the
room. Who do you love? The room went warmer, the youngsters faces
glowing in the dark. And last, if it really comes to survival, who
would you sacrifice."
We were disturbed, exicted. We started the survival game.We stranded
upon the desert. It was lying in a forest in Czechia. We climbed out of
the wrecks and there was no turning back. The atmosphere was warm, the
air filled with thrill. Then the land beneath our feet started to
drift. Quicksand. Quick, sand is running. A big tree, place a big tree
over it, get over this tree, hurry. Wait, look around, where is my best
friend? Ah, there…
Everything ok, are the others ok? We now walked in
smaller groups, mingled, laughed. But the trees started burning and
then a wall of flames was before us. Jump, for godsake jump or the sand
will get us. My love, you look frightened, here is my hand, look at it
and dont look at the fire. Jump. Run. How many? How many lost? An open
field. We must be safe now, some looked at eachother with devilry and
doubt. Before the left ones there was a last obstacle. Three pathways.
One leading to survival, the other two to death. The last youngsters
had to choose. They divided themselves in three smaller groups. Then
they walked the pathways.
Rain came in like an absurd surprise out of the sky. The faces on the
water were the lightest visible to the eye. Dark above and beneath. The
boats with the faces were getting smaller, the water started rising.
Excitement and panic. Still quite a distance to harbor. It was much too
quiet and silent before. A sudden storm cheats the belief of a
peacefull day. Now, it should be easy, we made the way here, we should
find the way back. The faces in the boats started peddling, slowly,
although with more effort then ever. The distance between the faces
started to stretch. Still trying to keep up to eachother, keeping
close, not losing sight. Then they faded. Those who harbored first in
uneasy, heavy breathing. Where were the others?
One by one they made
clear to the coast. Still a couple missing. The supers went in the
water again, carrying searchlights above their scared faces. We waited
with only one question in mind: why didnt we keep closer, kept in sight.
Sarah is dead. Who was her friend, who loved her, who didnt. A young
surpriseful death, those left behind wept rain for loss. Then on a
peacefull day, light in mourning, sudden trembling of the voices. A
voice saying "Sarah was a witch. Who cares, stop acting, this is so
stupid". Then two voices in sudden fight, then more voices, shouting,
yelling, and soon it was not about her anymore, who died, who couldnt
say or do anything anymore. It was just about her survivors. The supers
silenced the storm.
We came out of different pathways, got lost and scattered between trees
in the forest, so much obstacles, and then we saw the coast. The ship
wreck was gone and now there were several boats, much more in number,
smaller. Some said goodbye, some didnt and then all picked their boats,
and went off to the sky.