Lewis’ story: Typhon’s tale

Runner up: 12-14 years age category

The life of the minotaur is solitary, nasty, brutish and short. Ostracized from the world around me. No knowledge of the face of the earth; no account of time; no arts ; no letters; no societies, and worst of all, perpetual fear and threat of violent death. 

I sit here, like any other day; mind permeated with the thoughts of overwhelming confusion; with hooves that bear no function; with hands encrusted with dust; with eyes deprived of colour; with ears that have only heard my voice; and a mouth inarticulate. I sit here, like any other day. 

When one has been left to their own devices for what seems like an eternity: one questions the foundations of their existence. What is evil? What is beauty? What is knowledge? These existential inquiries are far beyond my capabilities, but the one thing that I can postulate during my imprisonment is this: humans, beasts, gods, creatures and the like are social beings. Our sense of ourselves must, and will only come from others around us. Therefore if an individual has been excommunicated from the world around them then they’re stripped of the very foundations of existence. Once this dehumanizing condition has manifested itself, a foreboding feeling hollows the inside of one’s body until what remains of oneself is just a living, walking, talking corpse; the last and only remnant of what this individual once was. It turns your virtue into vice, delight into despair, knowledge into ignorance. But this ignorance, the ignorance that rots me of myself, feeding on my emptiness, is not something that I’m appalled by. Because the ignorance that human folk possess is utterly mortifying. Their ignorance means that even when they open their fiendish eyes, they can’t see the profound injustices that have manifested in society. It is the veil that has distorted the truth of society, the veil that has polluted the mind with delusion. It is the veil of false-consciousness. 

However, this dogmatic belief is only speculation; it stems from the supposition for the reason why I’ve ended up in this labyrinth. I see the hands, feet and body of the people who I am given to eat, they do not share the same abnormalities that I possess; my slimy nostrils; deformed ears and disfigured head. I know what beast I’ve become and I am not proud of it, but that should not define me. Every being, from godly to grotesque, is entitled to be judged on the content of their character. I presume, this segregation that tortues me is just a means of justification of exploiting others for the benefit of those who exploit. I believe, it is the only reason why I’ve been banished to this place, that I will live in until I die. 

From this presumption of my fate, I’ve come to question the meaning of my life. Is it to be hidden from the envonemed eyes of discrimination or, is it to preserve the reputation of my parents who have created such a foul thing as I; protecting their prestige at the expense of their child; disregarding the adversity that incurred upon him. It disgusts me. I live in a society so contaminated with duplicity that all that matters is a presented appearance of oneself. I loathe it with a passion. A blazing passion, a passion so fierce it could kill a man. A passion that will haunt me until I die. 

Days pass and nothing changes. The monotony that beats and beats and beats, drives me not just into boredom but mental insanity. I‘ve become so inured to this tormenting tyrant of emotion. My body starts to behave in incoveivalbe ways. My muscles contract on their own accord. Bones twitch restlessley. Eyes endlessly blink. Jaw jitters and jolts preventing me from speaking my simple speech. Heart pulses irregularly.

I cannot bear to be subjected to this degradation of my own self. It is too appalling for even me to witness yet still worse to experience it myself, especially for someone who hasn’t deserved it. 

I, the minotaur, the monster, the menace, record my dying declaration: my mouth froths with this white slimy saliva- enveloping the inside of my throat… I was once benevolent but my environment has turned me into a beast. I shall die to serve testimony to the bigotry of this dystopian planet. The life of the minotaur is solitary, nasty, brutish and…