The Ones Who Walk Away From The Omelas
OPTION 1B– The Boy in the Basement
The visits are always the same. They only come when the light seeps in through the ceiling and my bowl is empty. I can tell that they are coming because I hear the voices above me. I hear them when they come into the house, all the way across the upstairs and then down the cellar steps. I dig my toes into the dirt and await the sound of the door creaking open. When I hear it open, I keep my eyes on the floor and wait for the door to close again. Then it begins again.
Today was different though. It began the same, with voices and footsteps from above. But when the door crept open, the door stayed open for so long that I looked up. There was one tall and scraggly man standing there. The one who always comes was absent. I watched him push the door wide open and he stepped into the room. My heart began to speed up as he walked across the room towards me. I closed my eyes in panic. When I opened them again, he was keeling in front of me. He began to speak to me, but I couldn’t understand. He reached forward and touched by bare knee. Then, with his other hand he offered me a pair of pats and a T-Shirt. He put the garments on my body and motioned for me to stand up. I rose to my feet, but then collapsed to the damp, dirt ground. I am so week. I opened my eyes, and the air was musty and polluted with dirt.
Before I knew it, the man had picked me up. He walked towards the door with me and then up the stairs. The one who always comes looked at us and then began to scream, and that is when the man began to run. He burst out the door. We didn’t make it far before the man stopped running.
He dropped me on the ground and looked around in shock. The town was run-down and grungy. The streets were dirt and the houses were made of deteriorating plywood. The sky was heavy with storm clouds ready to spill their water. The people popped their heads out of their doors with curiosity. Their eyes scanned the down and gasped, but when they saw me lying in the middle of the street, they were enraged. The man was still standing behind me as a crowd began to gather. The people were screaming at the man and he had collapsed onto the ground. Then, the one who was always there burst through the rioting crowd, picked me up, and ran returned me to my room. I heard the voices stop and I watched the light dance across the floor as the day slipped into night.
I will never leave my room again. I know this is where I’m supposed to be and that somehow, my life here helps the people that I saw today live their life out there. I know there is nothing wrong with me. I am just as normal as all the others. But I will pass my time in this room.
Omelas Seminar: Major Questions
1. What’s the difference between the people who walk away and the people who stay in Omelas?
In the short story “The Ones Who Walk Away From the Omelas” by Ursula LeGuin, the author leaves the reader wondering why some people walk away from the Omelas. I think some people walk away from the utopia because they feel guilty for allowing the boy to struggle to ensure their happiness. On page three of the short story, it says: “One thing I know there is non of in Omelas is guilt.” If there is no guilt in the Omelas, then those who feel guilty are forced to leave the perfect world. While the people who feel guilty because of the little boy leave the Omelas, the others accept the boy’s struggles and continue living a happy life in the Omelas. Overall, only those who can overcome the guilt after seeing the boy’s struggles can stay in the Omelas.
The visits are always the same. They only come when the light seeps in through the ceiling and my bowl is empty. I can tell that they are coming because I hear the voices above me. I hear them when they come into the house, all the way across the upstairs and then down the cellar steps. I dig my toes into the dirt and await the sound of the door creaking open. When I hear it open, I keep my eyes on the floor and wait for the door to close again. Then it begins again.
Today was different though. It began the same, with voices and footsteps from above. But when the door crept open, the door stayed open for so long that I looked up. There was one tall and scraggly man standing there. The one who always comes was absent. I watched him push the door wide open and he stepped into the room. My heart began to speed up as he walked across the room towards me. I closed my eyes in panic. When I opened them again, he was keeling in front of me. He began to speak to me, but I couldn’t understand. He reached forward and touched by bare knee. Then, with his other hand he offered me a pair of pats and a T-Shirt. He put the garments on my body and motioned for me to stand up. I rose to my feet, but then collapsed to the damp, dirt ground. I am so week. I opened my eyes, and the air was musty and polluted with dirt.
Before I knew it, the man had picked me up. He walked towards the door with me and then up the stairs. The one who always comes looked at us and then began to scream, and that is when the man began to run. He burst out the door. We didn’t make it far before the man stopped running.
He dropped me on the ground and looked around in shock. The town was run-down and grungy. The streets were dirt and the houses were made of deteriorating plywood. The sky was heavy with storm clouds ready to spill their water. The people popped their heads out of their doors with curiosity. Their eyes scanned the down and gasped, but when they saw me lying in the middle of the street, they were enraged. The man was still standing behind me as a crowd began to gather. The people were screaming at the man and he had collapsed onto the ground. Then, the one who was always there burst through the rioting crowd, picked me up, and ran returned me to my room. I heard the voices stop and I watched the light dance across the floor as the day slipped into night.
I will never leave my room again. I know this is where I’m supposed to be and that somehow, my life here helps the people that I saw today live their life out there. I know there is nothing wrong with me. I am just as normal as all the others. But I will pass my time in this room.
Omelas Seminar: Major Questions
1. What’s the difference between the people who walk away and the people who stay in Omelas?
In the short story “The Ones Who Walk Away From the Omelas” by Ursula LeGuin, the author leaves the reader wondering why some people walk away from the Omelas. I think some people walk away from the utopia because they feel guilty for allowing the boy to struggle to ensure their happiness. On page three of the short story, it says: “One thing I know there is non of in Omelas is guilt.” If there is no guilt in the Omelas, then those who feel guilty are forced to leave the perfect world. While the people who feel guilty because of the little boy leave the Omelas, the others accept the boy’s struggles and continue living a happy life in the Omelas. Overall, only those who can overcome the guilt after seeing the boy’s struggles can stay in the Omelas.