Sethra And The Sparkling Vases

• Abigail Vanderzwan, Grade 6, The Peninsula School
• Short Story
• 2011

Excellence Award in the 'Step Write Up 2011' competition

Long, long ago, in the lands of Ancient Greece, there lived a mischievous young woman named Sethra. Although she was astoundingly beautiful and had riches to burn, everyone avoided her, as she was rude, dishonest and thieving. She stole everything she could get her hands on, and almost every word that came out of her mouth was a lie. Not only that, but she enjoyed such things, and hid her stolen goods in beautiful vases, that she, too, had taken. Everyone stayed away from Sethra, except for her father, Dorius, who believed that he could curb Sethra’s ways.
One day, all was quiet, until a woman was heard shouting in the streets. Crowds of people surrounded her, and soon enough they joined in with the yelling. Dorius was curious to see what they were all fussing about. He soon heard the woman stressing about a thief, who had stolen her old grandmother’s necklace, which was her most prized possession. The people soon accused Sethra, knowing of her typical ways. Roars deafened Dorius’ ears. He could tell that they knew it was Sethra, just like the many other times. Even he, himself knew. The villagers were in an uproar once again, but this time the crowd stated that they would kill Sethra if she did not change. Dorius knew he had to do something. He hushed them by saying that he would talk to Sethra. Not looking back once, the old man ran to Sethra’s home.
Sethra sat in the middle of a large room, gazing at sparkling vases. Those vases were filled with stolen goods, like gold, jewels and scrolls. Her father entered, puffing and panting. He told Sethra about what had happened earlier. She listened with an offended expression on her face. Once Dorius had finished, she was so outraged that she turned up her nose and forced her poor father out. In a rampage she stole from every house that was empty in her village that night. The next morning there was a fuming mob of people outside Sethra’s house. They held flaming brands, and were yelling and screaming, quite similarly to what Dorius had encountered the previous day. The mob charged into the house, and as they reached Sethra, the room filled with a bright, indescribable light. There stood Zeus, the God of Gods, and the God of Justice, with a furious expression on his face. His voice echoed through the room, a booming sound wave that was loud enough to deafen any mortal within earshot. He was outraged at what mankind had become, and bestowed ‘guilt’ upon everyone in the little village. Up to that day, only Gods had ever felt guilt, and the new sensation startled the villagers. Looking at the vases, Sethra felt different. Overwhelmed with guilt, she fled. Sethra never stole anything ever again.
Guilt was passed down from generation to generation. Even today, guilt is found in each and every one of us, even if it only comes in small amounts.