Yin and Yang | Teen Ink

Yin and Yang

March 6, 2019
By ymmakiri BRONZE, Frederick, Maryland
ymmakiri BRONZE, Frederick, Maryland
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

On an unimportant day in an unimportant month in a year far, far from now, two siblings fought the most important battle in the universe. Though they looked nothing alike, they had the same goal in mind. One that ended the world and everything around it.


Before there was an Anything, before there was a Nothingness or an Emptiness, there were were two souls fused into one another - a grey-blue blob that rolled around endlessly. They spent an immeasurable amount of time unsnarling themselves from the web of their existence. They missed the alleged tip of God’s finger ignite the Sun, and the creation of animals and plants. They missed the supposed formation of Adam and Eve, and their first glance of the newly-formed world.

It was too long before they were untangled, but when they succeeded, there were finally Things.

Hot, glowing balls of light.

Sailing rocks through the blackness around them.

Colors of palatial hues.

And in an instant, they knew what it was called. A Universe.

But in this...universe, one thing stood out to them. A large, blue-green sphere. It tugged on both of them - this beautiful, magical, fascinating…

Earth.

And that was how they learned. Upon times of confusion, there was a Voice - one that seemed to have been there even longer than them - that explained it all. The Voice would tell them the names of the objects around them. It would tell them secrets, and fill the gaps in their minds. It would even comfort them when they were scared.

And then one day it told them their names.

Yin, it whispered in one’s ear.

Yang, it whispered in the other.

With these names, the souls were filled with the sense of belonging that they had lacked since they had came to be.
Now they both knew who they were.

Yin had a vision of a pale, almost translucent boy, with tamed blonde hair and a choirboy face.
Yang was female, with thick, dark coils of hair and skin the color of ash and night.

In short, Yin was the brightest, most golden light to exist and Yang was the deepest, most hollow darkness to reign.

For a time that no one -except perhaps the Voice- knew, Yin and Yang lived in cordial harmony. There were no fights, no arguments, no reasons to disagree for the only things amongst them were land and sea.

They felt the waves toss onto the sand

and the wind blow the trees down

and the land shift underneath their feet

and the earth turn in the cosmos

and the clouds move in the sky.


And then, humanity thrived.

At first it had been a dot of civilization. Only a few strangely shaped figurines - humans, the Voice reminded them - that waddled and made noises and smelled bad.

But that was acceptable. Yin and Yang could tolerate that, as long as they kept away from them. It was the end of an era now, and humans were everywhere. And not only did this annoy the souls, but now was when they were discovering their intent. Their purpose.

The souls realized that the figurines - humans - had two extremes. There were those who donated to charity, and were careful not to hurt others - physically or emotionally. And then there were those who stole, lied, cheated, murdered and held a hate passionate enough to make Yang smile. And there were the ones in between, which were a great number of individuals - those who inevitably did both.

The imbalance was prominent. There was more gossip exchanged from day-to-day than genuine “thank you’s” spoken. There were more robbing attempts than charity donations. There were more people who thought about themselves than those who thought about others. And the list went on.

Yin visited his sister one day. His goal was only to complain of her evil, but it turned into the first argument they had.

“The world is ailing!” Yin sent to her. He did not speak for he did not know how to speak, or make those noises the humans made. All he could do was imitate, and struggle to remember the words the Voice had taught them. So even now as he sent these words to Yang, his thoughts came out in a multitude of languages.
“That is my job,” Yang responded.

“Your ways are wicked and vile.” His next words are hard to translate in any language, for it was one only the two of them understood. “Change them. Now!”

“How shall I be insulted by facts?” Yang made the same hissing noises Yin did, in the same strange language. “Why shall I be the default for the one in the wrong?”

Yin was so upset he could not find it in himself to send any more messages. He left, leaping and bounding far, far away, and in the opposite direction of his other soul.

Little did they know that when they would meet again, their circumstances would be much, much worse.

The next morning, Yin and Yang were granted a marble. It was smooth, shiny and a warm granite that would never grow cool.
Yin’s was a white so impossibly blinding that the world had never seen the likes of it, and Yang’s was so dark that the worst storm clouds huffed and puffed to match the tone.

This is your gift, the Voice told them. You were created to live in harmony, however disagreeing.

The Voice nudged at their minds, like it always did. But there was no stagnant blankness that nestled itself when it was at rest. It was not just sleeping in the corner of their minds. It was trying to influence them again.
A spot of happiness flashed before Yin’s eyes. A surge of dopamine filled Yang’s brain. They both swiveled around at the same moment, ready to hug each other. And then they turned around once more, gathering their thoughts. For Yin, it was rationality. For Yang, it was hatred.
“Who are you?” Yin cried, furious at his inability to talk. He boomed again once more. “Who are you?”

There was no response. And Yin could no longer feel the Voice in his mind.

From across the Earth, Yang could feel Yin, as he could feel her. They were tied together by the invisible rope that would only stretch, not break.

Life went on, but for Yin and Yang, it was terrible. Yin could only see famine and war and the death of too many young lives, the horrible fever that led to too many horrible decisions. Yang could only see the smiles on faces, the laughter that people held, the love that couples shared, the kindness that was shown.

And it was too much.

They both tried to work against it. They both reached with the fibrous hairs of their being to find the Voice, and demand to know what was happening. Why they were here. And the Voice fought back. It seeped something poisonous into their hearts; something that made them retch in their decision to abandon each other.

Then once more, it disappeared. There was such a deep loneliness, such a separation and depression from life that all they could do was cry.
They waited days and days until it touched both their minds. And then finally it did.

And Yin and Yang both said, “Show us your face.”

The Voice did not hesitate. It showed them its face. And now they knew this was true: the Voice was a monster.
A monster can be a furry green twelve-eyed, nine-toed, twenty-foot tall ogre. A monster can also be a pigtailed, toothy third-grader who sells Girl Scout cookies. But the Voice was neither of these. It was much, much worse. It was its own entity, belonging to neither Yin nor Yang. It was so powerful, and so strong that neither of them could even stand to look upon it without falling to the ground and crying.

So Yin and Yang did the only thing they could do. They ran from their points of the Earth, to what would later be called the Center of all Destruction.

Storm clouds hung in the air with untamable joy, the ground broke under love’s temptation, and sky was heavy with hopeful stars and swirling gloom.

Already, their perceptions were mixing together.

For the first time, Yang spoke out loud. “This has to be over.”

Yin nodded. “Yes, and we must be the ones to do it.”

But now that they could speak, it seemed pointless to do it. So they were quiet, while the humans ran and rampaged and brought up their weather channels and Google to figure out what was going on.

Yin and Yang held hands, lacing them together in an ornate fashion. They had seen the Voice, not just physically, but mentally. They knew that they had to do this, to rid the worst from the world.

For the Voice was not bad, nor good; just wrong.

The two pushed so fervently against one another - strength matching strength, because for once, they were living together in harmony. Yang could feel herself rising, and Yin felt it too, as they absorbed each other once more. The two curled and nestled into each other, feeling not only the world, but the universe shake around them.

But though they were in their own cocoon, their marbles still held the rest of their spirits.

Yin and Yang reached over and smashed the opposite soul’s marble.

With that, the universe extinguished, and all that was left was the Voice, with one fragment of a tear and a will to start over again.

So once more, for a number that the Voice wanted to forget- but no, it couldn’t - for the seven trillionth, nine hundred forty-nine billionth, sixty three millionth, fifty-seven thousandth and twenty third time, it wiped the universe clean. And then it started all over again.



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