Narrative Essay About Vision Quest

Vision Quest

It was the morning of my vision quest, everyone has been anticipating this except for me. When I walked out of my teepee and felt my hair rise sharply as the cold wind swept across the land, everyone than blurted out in excitement, all of their faces had the same expression, eyes squinted, almost blind with joy their smiles encompassed most of their faces and their movements were swift but erratic as they danced and chanted as they were about to see me off. I didn’t see the point in this, none of this seemed exciting to me, I was dreading the moment I would eventually enter the forest and make my way to the sacred area where I was then supposed to starve and thirst for days until I had a vision of what I was supposed to become.

But she did it, either way, the strokes and colors were losing their vividness, I remember sitting with my mother in the evenings where she was either painting new things around the teepee or repainting faded works of hers, I was always infatuated with painting, in fact, I wanted to paint for a while but I was told that the only paint that should ever touch a man's hands should be that of war, and that was an indisputable statement from my father. As I walked into the teepee I felt a cold rush come over me as I entered, I darted to the dimming fire in the center of the floor and knelt down beside it, vying for warmth but my body was failing to react, finally I gulped again and swallowed my spit, after that everything was fine, I don't know what that was but I had never experienced it before, I decided to not speak of what happened to me for I feared what the reasoning for it would be. “Chaska?” muttered a fragile voice, it was my mother's, I turned around and saw her laying on her stacked furs, her face was pale and mouth laid agape, her eyes wandering around looking for me even though I was right in front of her, she was sweating even though it was surely too cold to do so, I crawled over to her and nuzzled my head into her arms, as