Mischief, part 4
I don’t care what people say. Kids are dumb, and life is hard.
Before my brother came along, it was “Oan, let me show you this”, “Oan, my son, let me teach you something”, “Oan, we need your help”.
In the other village was called “Oan, come play with me!” and “Oan, have you anything to trade?”. And whispers of “Oan, I missed you”.
Then Egan was born, and as his newborn cries mingled with Mau’s agonized screams, The Tunnel collapsed.
The Tunnel that connected us to the next village, crumbled, blocking trade, travel, and matters of the heart.
Our communities had learned to be self-sufficient, but our creature comforts depend on our cooperation.
And now it’s “Oan, get over here!”, “Oan, we’re running behind!”, “Oan, shift yourself, or we’ll never get this opened up!”.
Life is hard enough without spending your spare time clearing tunnels Grandfather built.
“But she’s worth it”, Da says with a smile. I think he might know more of my personal life than he lets on.
And now, Egan has to get himself lost.
It’s been a long time. The tall rock fell right next to me with a loud bang that knocked me down. Then part of the rock rolled over and is pushing my feet onto the ground so I can’t move.
I screamed for Mau, and she never came. I called Da, but he doesn’t hear too good. I even called Oan, but if he heard me, he didn’t answer.
They’re all back home, way past all the dark rooms and squeaky doors I came through to get out here.
I’m alone. My Lucky is gone, hiding deep down in my toes. Even the dark, monster part of Mischief is gone, and the only things left in me are lots of sad tears waiting in line to crawl out my eyeballs.
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