WITHER (In Anya's perspective)

A review on “WITHER” by Lauren DeStefano

I found “Wither” in my bookshelves this morning. Since I have nothing much to do, I decided to read the book. I love to admit that I’ve been hearing good reviews about it. I was actually encoding the ninth chapter of my story when Wither came to my mind. So, before anything else, I must post the gist of the story. I haven’t read the 2^nd book yet so please bear with me in this review. 

WHAT IF YOU KNEW EXACTLY WHEN YOU WOULD DIE?

Thanks to modern science, every newborn has become a ticking genetic bomb-males only live to age twenty five, and females only live to age twenty. In this bleak landscape, young girls are kidnapped and forced into polygamous marriages to keep the population from dying out.

When sixteen-year old Rhine Ellery is taken by the Gatherers to become a bride, she enters a world of wealth and privileges.

So, I decided to make a review about it. But I made a distinction in my work. I pretended to be a character in the story; that’s what I planned to do. BUT NO! I MADE A CHARACTER OUT OF THE STORY. AND HERE’S HOW IT GOES.

I heard that three girls from the Gatherer’s dungeon have been married to the House Governor  Linden Ashby. I never liked to be picked so it favored me. I am lucky that I managed to escape the bullets that night. They thought I was dead. I pretended to be dead. Then, I jumped on the back of the truck that hauled on the street that night. I was bloody dead. I thought I was dead. I’m going to die anyway. Two years from now, I’ll die just like everybody else. I have the virus in me. The fault in the experiment they conducted should have been resolved by now. But they cannot. This is the compensation of their hunger for power and selfishness.

 And I saw the Governor and his first wife on television last time, attending a party. I can see the vulnerability on her eyes as she faked a smile on every first generation she met. But she’s in love with him. I can tell by the look in her eyes. My eyes seem to have a strange scanner that I can see how people feel. She has incredibly green eyes and I wonder if they are genuine. I heard stories of their deceitful marriage. And I can’t bear to see myself marrying someone with two or more other wives. Just thinking about it makes me wanna puke.  Her name is Lady Rhine, if I’m not mistaking. She replaced the deceased Lady Rose who was the apple of the eyes of the Governor. But she is more beautiful than anybody else in the planet. But she is lonely, and happy and lonely at the same time.

Sometimes, I wandered about the streets of Florida. It was those times before I came here to Manhattan. I stopped on the Ashby’s mansion, not fearing the wrath of the Gatherers. I don’t care. They won’t recognize me anyway. I am one of the orphans kidnapped and sold. They can’t daunt me anymore. As I was saying, my fearless feet dragged me to the old mansion. The family’s goods arrived that day. I was so desperate, so hungry that I was able to trick the truck driver. I think we are on the same age. He dragged me to inside the truck. I knew that it went inside the endless backyard of the mansion. He gave me food but there was something in return. I don’t want to go to the details; it was painful.   

Then, one of the attendants saw me, saw us. I was struggling and begging him to stop. Before he could do thing that I am afraid of, she stopped him. She has lovely cheekbones. She is young and small and has dark brown eyes. She helped me. She gave me a plain white dress that has been used by the former first wife. Her name begins with D, I can’t remember. Deirdre? Maybe. Deirdre hid me on the basement, making sure that no one can see me. She told me that the Housemaster is really really not hospitable. The head in the kitchen knows about my stay there but she never tells on me. I walked around the mansion like one of the servants, like one of them. I love my job there; I was like a spy on the movies. Then, I saw her. I saw the girl with beautiful eyes. There was a term for her irregularity but I can’t say what. I am not smart at all. Deirdre told me that the House Governor favored her among the three wives. Yes, she is stunning but there’s something wrong about her. She is sneaking out with a boy, one of the attendants. It isn’t right; nothing’s going right in this world anyway. That’s when I gained interest on the girl. When she and the Governor Linden took a walk on the orange groves, I was sneaking out, eavesdropping. I’ve done that many times. I realized one thing; they’re in love with each other. But she denies it. She keeps denying it to herself because she’s attracted to the attendant. She doesn’t know what she feels about him. It’s the most stupid thing people do; blinded by infatuation for a moment, forgetting about the people they really love.

I felt like revolting, stepping out of the shadows. One morning, I was assisting the head of the kitchen and did some work for her. I was walking at the ground floor. I saw Governor Linden. He was thinking deeply, I guess. I pity him for falling in love with a girl who can’t even realize his love for her. My tongue was itchy. I wanted to tell him that I heard the attendant and her first wife talking about escaping, but he doesn’t know me. I used to hide whenever the Housemaster was there. I wanted to tell him that his wife tried to escape. I wanted to tell him even if he already knew about it. But he loves her. And cannot hurt her. He can’t hurt her feelings. I’ve been so updated with the news around the mansion. Deirdre is so loquacious. She told me everything. I just found out that the youngest wife was pregnant. I was too late to that news because I cannot go to the wives’ rooms. The pregnancy is absurd for me. She is so young. Why would a twenty-one year old man mate a thirteen-year old young girl? It gives me the creeps. He could just consummate with the eldest first, not her. She is young, innocent and… but that’s reality. We all tend to rush things because we are practically running out of time.

When one of the wives died, the nineteen-year old scrawny girl, I decided to leave the mansion. I thanked Deirdre for keeping me in. but I know that there would be worse things to happen inside the big mansion. They are all trapped; there’s no escaping it. It’s not the virus that makes everyone vulnerable. It’s how we decide on things and let our emotions take control of us.

I ran outside. I missed the air of the world, real air. I ran. I ran. I ran. My feet took me to a building where there are loads of frozen foods and shattered bones. I waited until there’s one delivery truck preparing to disembark. I rode for miles. I begged for their sympathy and they let me. They allowed me to ride and the truck took me here, in Manhattan.

I searched for a place to stay, one that can shelter me from the rain and from the Gatherers, again. I’ve always been haunted. I walked around and found a home. It looks far too different from the mansion but I feel safe inside it.

I see someone; a boy. But he looks dreary and restless. I hide in the bushes outside and wait for him every morning. He goes back to his house almost once a week. Sometimes, I follow him but he fades away. He’s too smart that he notices someone following him. and when he comes back, he keeps pushing me away.

“Get outta here! Or you’re dead,” he shouts. But I never walk away. I just hide. I know there’s something in his eyes that makes me want to be with him. He is lonely. But his face is familiar. He is too familiar that I can’t recognize him.

At night, I curl myself into a ball in the corner of his house, smelling ivy everywhere. I always do that. I thought it might conceal me from the Gatherer but it didn’t.

I scream. I cry. I shout. I cry for help but no one comes. The Gatherer with big dark eyes knocks me on the spleen and I fall to the ground. They will take me to the dungeons again. And I hate darkness. I hate the smell of the vile foam form the other girls. I hate how they scream, how they think of death. I know I was falling before I knew I am in another place.

The place is kinda dark; there is only one dim light hanging in the ceiling. I taste rust in my throat and I long for water. “Good, you’re awake now. Leave,” he says. His voice is measured but his face is blank. He saved me. The boy saved me. I thank him for saving my life but all he does is to look at me, then, look away.

“You can’t stay here,” he says. I want to stay here. It’s the safest place on earth.

I don’t understand why but he let me stay anyway. His name is Rowan Ellery. When I ask questions, he doesn’t answer. Oftentimes, I always get a nod, a shrug, and always a no. I’ve been here for a month and he gets used with my stories. Stories about the world outside and the world beyond the seas and mountains thousand miles away from Manhattan. He said that his twin sister likes geography and science and many things about the planet. When he talks, I never dare interrupt him because our worlds seem to unite when he’s the one telling stories. He talks about his sister mostly. He misses her and he hates himself for being weak when the Gatherer kidnapped her.

“What’s your sister’s name?” I ask.

“Rhine,” he answers. I am stunned. I am a stiff. I am so dumb I never noticed it before. Of course, he looks familiar because he is Lady Rhine’s twin brother. I am about to tell him about it but he gaits away, saying that he has work to do. I missed my chance.

I am left alone in the basement for three days and three nights. Rowan hasn’t back yet and I’m starving to death. I wonder when he’s coming back. I try to entertain myself and found an old picture inside an old box at the basement where we always stay. Her eyes are different from the others. Her eyes were green on television. Her eyes were different from the time I saw her. But she’s beautiful. She looks like Rowan, her twin brother. I wipe the dust from the glass plate and stare at the photograph. I realize that I’ve been staring for so long and I thought Rowan is standing behind me, telling how stupid I am again. But he’s not. And I have this feeling that he will never come back.

            No matter how we all try, we cannot escape death. Nobody understands it. This incurable disease seems not to be an abnormality at all. It has been a standard of living. Boys are going to die on the twenty-fifth year; we die five years ahead. That is the norm. Living more than that might give us guilt as the human race dies.

“THIS IS THE WAY THE WORLD ENDS, NOT WITH A BANG, BUT WITH A WHIMPER”

--THE HOLLOW MEN.