Gothic Bat Mitzvah

[HumanePain]

This is a story about a Jewish girl, whose upcoming Bat Mitzvah is...a little different than most. It was inspired by Tumor's questions in another thread. I hope you enjoy it.


Chapter 1 - Dream

She turned off the light and climbed onto the little step stool into the tall bed.

All of the work every night, practicing her trope, the singing, chanting reading of the Torah, and the Hebrew reading lessons left her exhausted every night. She drifted to sleep right away.

She was looking across a dark field at twilight. Scattered here and there were the skeletons of trees, burned out stumps with a few, claw-like branches. There were holes in the ground by the stump of each tree, as if some night crawling rodent made its home there. But the holes had a slight reddish glow coming from down inside.

She saw herself walking, still in her nightgown, barefoot, stepping through the field, leaving foot prints in the black, almost moist soil. She could almost feel pebbles and stones with her feet.

Now she could make out the silhouettes of tombstones, some were great pillars with crosses, but most had the Star of David on them. Then she saw a mausoleum.

As she stepped in front of the two story, marble and stone structure, she could make out the individual crypts, the names on them scratched out or corroded beyond recognition.

The moonlight was coming out now, the twilight completely vanquished. As she looked up in the sky, she could make out the stars, but gone were the familiar constellations. Now the stars were themselves forming the Star of David, a great pointed halo, slowly revolving over her. It danced with the moon in a celestial orbit.

And now she began to hear voices. Old sounding voices, voices that were chanting with echoes, and chanting with a soft, but steady rhythm. Then she saw them:

Blue wisps of smoke, drifting slowly like an incoming fog, emanating from the crypts. The smoke twirled into a vortex, with other wisps from the graveyard joining into it, and rising to the sky to the center of the great Star rotating above her. She was almost hypnotized by this geometric display of supernatural power.

The voices grew louder, and now the great Star was beginning to glow, an electric Blue, outshining even the moon, the shadows of the mausoleum becoming a stark darkness compared to the illuminated rooftop.

The voices were calling her. And now the great Star was falling! Falling down on her. The blue brightness engulfed her!

She woke up. She was breathing fast, her heart pounding. What just happened?

She got out of bed and got herself a drink of water. She stayed up the rest of the night, afraid to go to sleep.

[HumanePain]

Chapter 2 Deja-Dream-Vu

That evening, she crawled into bed again. Another day of practice, she had tried to convince her parents to give her a break tonight since it was the last day of school, but they wanted her to conduct the service perfectly, and practice makes perfect. She was tired and drifted to sleep…

…twilight, in the dark field again. She felt pebbles and stones on bare feet, saw herself in the purple nightgown; it flowed around her as she stepped between the dead hulks that were once trees, now black. The holes in the ground at the base of the trees were glowing red. She could see now that the holes were in pairs, like red eyes, staring at her with mischief, and menace, the trees now looked like wild, unruly black hair above the glowing eyes.

She did not see any moon tonight, but the stars were there, slowly moving from the constellations, into the shape of the Star of David again, the great six-pointed Star slowly rotating above her like a planetarium display.

The mausoleum stood with all its might, but now, a figure standing at the top of the steps leading to the crypts: a dark haired young man.

Above him were sculptured, immortal lovers, carved in the mausoleum stone facade, seated on a bench in an embrace, lips forever just out of reach.

She walked towards him, and noticed his blue eyes; his black hair waving in the night breeze. As she got closer, he slowly became transparent, until only his eyes could be seen in the darkness. They faded into the crypt.

Somehow this did not frighten her. She felt that he was not fading into the crypt as were the dead, but that he was immune to it, he was going through death, not into it.

She climbed the steps and then sat down at the top, waiting for him…

[HumanePain]

Not too far from the cemetery, the Temple Ami-Shalom was small and modest, but very old. It had served generations and generations of families for a long time. Rabbi Roberg was honored to serve the synagogue’s small but faithful congregation.

Today he was starting to take inventory of the whole building in preparation for an upcoming Bat Mitzvah. The morning sunlight projected beams through the narrow windows that lined the top of the walls, illuminating the altar steps.

As he walked up the steps, he noticed that the smoke from the brightly burning menorah candles was drifting somewhat to the side, at an angle, even though there wasn’t any breeze inside the temple. All of the candles were drifting, but in different directions! A breeze would blow the smoke in the same direction, but the smoky wisps from these candles were…undulating in an independent manner from each other! He pulled at his black curly beard in thought, and then readjusted his glasses for a better look.

As a large cumulus cloud outside drifted over the temple, darkening the windows, the smoke began to turn greenish-gray. The ropes of smoke began to drift to the center of the altar, twisting together in a slow moving vortex, the greenish column bending and pointing towards the wall where the sacred scroll of the Torah was stored. The Rabbi was frightened, and began praying for divine safety. He was frozen with fear and could only watch in paralysis.

Now the base of the twisting green vortex hovered over the podium, dancing in circles around the steps, as if searching for something. The top end of the vortex was revolving in front of the Torah. Blue streaks could now be seen shooting from the Torah, in twisted bolts, gleaming into the altar floor as it traced circles around the podium. The Rabbi could hear the blue bolts hissing as they traveled down the vortex, smashing into the floor with blue sparks!

Then the afterglow from the blue bolts ionized the air with an image, a girl, standing facing him. She was the one who’s Bat Mitzvah he was preparing! Could this be some sign to do with the thirteen year old girl? No one would believe him!

He bowed his head and began to pray. Then with a bright green flash, the vortex vanished! Sunlight gleamed in cheerful beams from the windows onto the altar once again. What had just happened?

He walked up to the Torah, and felt the scroll. He kissed the top of the scroll and prayed.

[Tumor]

Um, is that all? It seems that there should be more. I WANT MORE!

[HumanePain]

okee-dokee, for you, I will write more this week. I should be able to post it by next weekend. Thanks for reading, and thanks for the original imspiration!

[Tumor]

You're welcome.

[LostAndCrazy]

Hey, we want more, MORE I tell you! You're like a drug dealer who gets one hooked and then plays hooky. You have'nt posted in days. =(((

[Tumor]

So, um... well? Don't make us cry...

[HumanePain]

Oh crap! I forgot (smacks own face). Sorry, too much manic scattered brain-ness.
(salutes) I'll get right on it, but won't be able to post until tonight, gotta run to work right now.

[HumanePain]

I beg another day. Too tired tonight, and I do not wish to force the story, as that will serve you good readers poorly. My muse works best when I am well rested.

[HumanePain]

The temple was full this sunny morning: family, friends and neighbors had all finished talking and socializing in the entrance; everyone had signed the guest book, and all were seated in the pews, expectantly awaiting the beginning of the ceremony. The temple altar was lit with sunbeams from the temple windows, the gold trim shining here and there, transforming the room into a heavenly space.

The Rabbi, synagogue president, and the young girls parents were seated against the front wall and to the side so as to observe her while she led the congregation in the worship ceremony. She had elected to read from Genesis.

Now the congregation hushed to leave a silence for her as she walked to the podium. She was wearing a figure hugging dress, mid thigh length, with gold and silver flowers on a white background, white heels, and her black hair up in a bun. As she opened the scroll, her dark brown eyes sparkled, and looking up to the congregation for the first time, she gave a practiced smile with lips closed, practiced, because she knew she would be nervous, but had rehearsed so many times, her ritual was now automatic. She was now reaping the benefit of repetition.

She began to chant in ritual trope, the singing recitation of the holy words, with a beautiful soprano voice that brought smiles to everyone in the temple. As she read she looked up from the scroll...and then paused.

In the third row was a young man. He was the young man from her dream! He smiled at her. He was very attractive. She looked back down at the scroll, blushing. Her father, seated behind her, could not see his daughter's face, and thinking that she might have forgotten her place, or worse, suffered from stage fright, stood up from his chair to go to the podium to assist his daughter. Then it happened:

The temple windows darkened, the sunbeams disappearance plunging the temple into twilight shades of gray, except for the scroll in front of her. Surounding the edges of the scroll was a golden glint as if the sunbeams never left. It was the brightest object in the temple room, gold light reflecting from her awe stricken face. She looked up, and everyone was looking at the scroll and her, but the young man was getting up and exiting the pews toward the center walkway.

Now her father reached her, and saw the gleaming scroll too, and took his daughter by the elbow. She grabbed her father's arm and stood back from the scroll. The young man was walking up, front and center.

Before he could reach the altar, blue-green beams of light began to erupt from the scroll, beams that were at first straight up to the ceiling, but then began to twist into a circle, a large halo that rose above the father and daughter, and began circling about them. The air was ionized and a faint hissing could now be heard.

The young man went to the other side of the girl, and stood between her and the scroll. He had to shield his eyes from the blue light now, it was brilliant, a blinding shimmering that rivaled a laser. The Rabbi bowed and prayed. He had not told anyone about his haunting experience earlier, but had feared this would happen since the previous occurence revealed the young girl's image.

Now flares began to emerge from the halo, blue flames that wavered and stretched, until finally they detached, and flew about the halo, continuing the circle, near the ceiling; detached flames that now were as large as vague human forms. The entire congregation was as stone, fear and awe in their large eyes, some praying, hands clasped in a white knuckled and desperate invocation for protection.

The various detached flames were now clearly human forms: women and men, and as they orbited the halo, their faces became clear: old wrinkled faces. The blue ghosts now flew down to the trio by the podium, and stood on the altar, surrounding the living. The father's mouth was agape, and then his eyes narrowed.

"Bubby? My God, is that you Bubby?" The blue ghost he addressed only smiled, but then walked past him, and together with the other ghosts, circled closer to the girl. Now all the flaming apparitions held hands in a circle around her, arms and hands going right through the torsos of her father and the young man. They began to chant.

The young girl began to shimmer with a blue sparkle! She became one of the flaming ghosts, and with a shocked face, she looked around, helpless.

"MARGA! MARGA!" Her father tried to grab her, and felt nothing but cold, cold air. Fear and anguish was naked in his face. Then a blinding green flash! The sunbeams were again shining through the windows, the darkness had departed.

When everyone opened their eyes, Marga, the young girl was lying on the floor of the altar. Before her father could recover his eyesight and notice his daughter on the floor, the young man had scooped her up and lifted her.

"Marga! My baby!" The father held his daughter's face in his hands. Her eyelids fluttered.

"Father?" She turned her head and looked up into the young man's eyes.

"Are you...ok?" he asked.

"Yes, I think so." She moved to stand up oout his arms, but held onto his arm with both hands.

"Marga!" She turned and placed a hand on her father. Everyone was spellbound as to what would happen next.

She lifted her hand from her father and felt her forehead.

"I met them. I met my ancestors! Hundreds of them, from thousands of years ago! How long was I gone?"

"You weren't gone at all, you never left" said the young man. She stared at him.

"I saw you in my dream." She softly spoke.

"And I saw you in mine. I saw this would happen." Her mouth fell open at his statement.

The father noticed the scroll had fallen on the floor, and had unraveled down the altar steps. He bent down to pick it up, and the Rabbi, coming to his senses, went over to the other end of the scroll to help roll it up.

As the two men looked up holding the scroll, they saw the boy and girl still holding each other's arms, staring into one another's eyes.

"A miracle" the Rabbi said.

"Yes" said the boy and girl together.

[Godslayer Jillian]

First of all, I have to apologize, Humanepain, that I barely got the chance to read this; and I'm even more sorry that I could not take my time to read it thoroughly.

Secondly, I must praise your imagery and descriptive language! I always try to write like this, although I still need much practice.
Oh, and I have to admit, you made me have to look for a dictionary more than a couple of times.

[HumanePain]

Whoa! Thanks man! No apology needed by the way. And to think I wrote it whilst my toddler nieces and nephews are running around crying and screaming and playing about me, we have my in-laws here for the holidays.

I did find one typo too late however, after the editing limit had been reached. I am going to request in the upgrade thread that the editing time be extended.

I wasn't so much trying to make anyone reach for a dictionary as much as reveal the experience of a Bat Mitzvah for those who have not yet seen one, by using it as the background of the story. For me at least, the first time I saw one (for a friend's daughter), I was pleasantly surprised.

Thanks again.

[HumanePain]

Originally Posted by BeckySlater

HumanePain, forgive me as I have not read the posts yet, but is "Gothic Bat Mitzvah" a double entendre? The title made me snicker

Actually a triple entendre! But I am glad I finally finished the story. (Whew!)

[HumanePain]

Originally Posted by BeckySlater

You gave me the coolest idea for a Bat Menorah.... OK, so it's not cool, but I'll probably make one anyway. It'll be the macabre-est (!?!??) Haunnakuh ever.

Whoa! That sounds AWESOME! BTW, a Jewish friend of mine bought a hearse for his Goth daughter. He's a cool dad.

[Tumor]

Originally Posted by HumanePain

...I finally finished the story. (Whew!)

That's it?! It still seems incomplete. Very good, though.

[LostAndCrazy]

Good work, loved it HP! And yes, I did not know what a Bat Mitzvah was until having read this. It also gave me a cool idea for another one of my shitty poems. *raises his glass to you sir*

[HumanePain]

Originally Posted by Tumor

That's it?! It still seems incomplete. Very good, though.

Haha, OK, I will add more. Actually, I felt it could have been more complete too, and that it needed something else. I was a bit rushed. I did a disservice to the story and readers. (goes back to the Library to write more)

[HumanePain]

Originally Posted by LostAndCrazy

Good work, loved it HP! And yes, I did not know what a Bat Mitzvah was until having read this. It also gave me a cool idea for another one of my shitty poems. *raises his glass to you sir*

I would disagree with your use of "shitty" and "my" in the same sentence, I love your writings, and envy your poetry. I can write stories, but not poetry. (raises glass of concord grape juice to LostAndCrazy).

[LostAndCrazy]

I love you HumanePain. Eloquence is not a trait I am familiar with so I am rather blunt. =)

[Tumor]

Originally Posted by HumanePain

Haha, OK, I will add more. Actually, I felt it could have been more complete too, and that it needed something else. I was a bit rushed. I did a disservice to the story and readers. (goes back to the Library to write more)

It's the no-name guy, methinks. Who is he? Where did he come from? Is he mortal? Spirit? Other? He just appears, and then, he's just there, just because. This doesn't seem right. He needs flesh added to the bones you've provided.

[HumanePain]

Originally Posted by Tumor

It's the no-name guy, methinks. Who is he? Where did he come from? Is he mortal? Spirit? Other? He just appears, and then, he's just there, just because. This doesn't seem right. He needs flesh added to the bones you've provided.

Ah, thanks for the ideas (wrapped in the constructive criticism), I shall embellish him!
Stay tuned...(well, in middle aged terms, that could me another week.)

[HumanePain]

I hereby ressurect my composition in honor of Hallween.

:bump:

[Dancing_in_rain]

*bows* Unusual topic. But great!