If I've learned anything in my pitiful, sorry life, it's that it's hard. Life, I mean. It's more difficult than anything I've ever had to endure, and that's saying… well, that's not saying much, but you get what I mean.
I suppose it's much easier for mortals.
Unfortunately, I was born a goddess.
That's right, a goddess. Rather, I'm a failed one. I'm not entirely sure if that's an accurate term, but that's what my people are: gods and goddesses, the immortal, silent rulers of the world. We are the ones who administer storms at whim, the ones who unleash earthquakes and natural disasters with a single wave of the hand, the ones who decide the ultimate fate of those "pathetic mortals" who dwell in disgraceful perdition below us.
It's not as glamorous as it sounds at first. Not everyone can be a Celestial Ruler. One must be schooled in the arts of creation and destruction, magical skills that must be taught, toned, and tested to perfection. Those whose magical abilities far exceed the requirements are honored with a position, or the promise of a position, in controlling the world. The aforementioned courses in creation and destruction are intensely rigorous, and, I attest, impossible to even complete without the result of a permanent headache.
How can there be a continuous stream of gods and goddesses, coming into and leaving positions? Contrary to popular belief, gods and goddesses don't live forever, however long we are able to linger in existence as individuals. I suppose, as a race, we're the eternal creative and destructive force, and individuality is of no real concern.
I don't know.
I never paid attention during History class.
Our population is small, consisting of twice the amount of beings needed to fill in the positions. Fifty percent make it, and the leftovers are banished from celestial society.
I was always more pressured than the other potential gods and goddesses. For as long as time has existed, throughout all the generations, every member of my family has become a god or goddess. During feasts, there would be accounts of the incredible deeds of my ancestors. Imagine, I having to sit there at the banquet table, listening to them rant on and on about so-and-so and being both bored and intimidated out of my mind.
Coupled with this pressure was the fact that I had no magical skill whatsoever. I still don't. Shoot fire from my palm? Can't do it. Flood Africa with a snap of my fingers? Nope. Sorry. Complete failure here.
It also didn't help that I hated studying. School was slow, excruciating torture. I sat through my classes, my mind twisting into itself painfully, until I simply surrendered to the gaping chasm of my stupidity. During tests, I stared blankly at the wall, panicked and perspiring, until time ran out.
Needless to say, I failed every single course I took, while my siblings not only passed but excelled. My parents disowned me, my friends left me, and I was officially banished from the Celestial Palace.
Adventures of a Goddess by artemisathene
Fiction » Fantasy Rated: K, English, Supernatural & Fantasy, Words: 530, Published: 11/30/2001