Hey, Lewis here! This is a new, completed short story that I've just finished! It's a little different from anything else we've done so far, but I hope you enjoy it anyways!- Lewis
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“Stop!” I yelled, hot tears melting down my mud-stained, worry broken face, blurring my vision. “Please Everyone! Stop!”
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Maybe life wouldn’t have been so entirely rotten if...well, if everything about Gadeloff was different. I glanced up at the muddy road before my little house. Several people wearing worn, dirty clothes limped solemnly by as if alone. There was nothing new about that. We hardly ever said much to each other outside of the hard labor that characterized our lives. I lived with my mother, my toddler brother, Rylan, my older sister of fifteen, Annalisa, and my oldest brother, Steven.
“Stop it, Steven!” my mother’s voice yelled from our undersized kitchen. I did not even flinch. They fought a lot and it was always about the same thing.
“Why?” demanded Steven. He was eighteen at the time. “I’m sick of this! I’m tired of being hungry. I’m tired of being tired and I’m tired of being angry while doing absolutely nothing about it!”
“Shush!” she hushed him.
‘Steven is right. This isn’t fair and this isn’t right. Someday HE will rule our little country of Medellon and get us out of this mess!’ I thought. We needed more people with the same passion that he possessed.
“I’ll do it mom! For you! For Meg! For Annalisa and Rylan!” Steven continued.
“I won’t let you!”
“It won’t be long, mom. They’ll rip Rylan away and send him to one of their special schools where he’ll be made into one of them! They’ll steal Annalisa and make her slave to one of their cowardly selves until every piece of her beauty, love and purity is spent—until every segment of her is violated. They’ll cart Meg off to be a servant until they see fit to resign her to Annalisa’s fate!” Steven retorted.
“STEVEN!”
I, thirteen year-old Meg, glanced back down at the ruff stairs, on which, I had positioned myself. ‘All the power to you, brother!’ We needed change desperately. Our father had slaved hard many years and through many difficult times, but had never received a reward. No rest and no pat on the back was ever given him. After his death seven months ago, all we were given was a letter stating that our rations and living space would be reduced a “little bit.” Of course that meant we would be living in a shack with front steps, eating one stale piece of bread a day! It wasn’t even edible most times! My father had always said: “rebellion will come eventually. You can’t treat people like slaves and take away their freedom without some sort of back lash.” At dinner he had spoken of the injustice and what needed to be done about it and even of little tussles here and there, but he never did anything and nothing ever changed.
“I promise, mother,” Steven said resolutely.
“Don’t promise. Close your mouth, Steven. You know what could happen if they hear you talking like that?” my mother protested.
“Sometimes you have to say things anyway,” Steven stated.
“Don’t you walk away from me!”
Click. The front door opened behind me and gently closed. “Hey,” Steven said, sitting beside me.
“Hey,” I replied, my thoughts a blur.
“I gotta go, but I’ll be back,” he continued. “This rally tonight is going to be big! Sheppard Mason is coming from Kelixk! I think this is going to be over soon, Meg. It won’t be long.”
“How?” Annalisa approached us, carrying a worn bucket. “We don’t have guns—or even butter knives for that matter.” She sat down beside us. Her long hair, was the most beautiful, rich, dark brown and her eyes matched. Though she’s only fifteen, one might mistake her as three years wiser.
“Exactly! And why, may I ask, do we not have guns?” Steven asked, his voice animated and eyes alive.
I smiled. The way he talked and plotted gave me hope. It made me want to do something! A little worry still hung over my shoulders though, keeping my lips loosely sealed. Last week Mr. Cravens, our neighbor, had gone missing. We never asked where he went because we all knew. We all understood the unwritten rule: be silent or be killed. Dying may have been the best option. A new family had moved in next door where he used to live. In fact, some people were starting to wonder if Mr. Cravens had even existed. The family beside us had a flower business set up that was actually prospering somehow. Steven said it was government funded to confuse us and I quite agree. But for those who didn’t agree, they sat, thinking that maybe they had imagined Mr. Cravens. Everything about the neighbors gave the illusion that they’d always been there. The sign on their front door was peeling, they knew the routine and they even seemed to have relationships with other neighbors.
“Look, Steven,” Annalisa said, glancing around. Darkness cloaked her irises. “I know what Dad said and I know how we all feel, but you just can’t talk openly like this. You must be careful. Your actions will affect more than just you.”
“But we can’t just sit here the rest of our lives while President Teklate thrives!” Steven retorted.
“I’m not saying this because I believe the lies, but I’m saying this because I’m thinking about how it could hurt us,” Annalisa replied quietly.
“But—.”
“No.” Annalisa stepped around us, pushed open the front door and entered.
“Well, I’ll be back 'bout ten, alright?” Steven said and rose to his feet.
“Okay,” I shrugged. “Be careful.”
“Thanks,” he waved and started down the road, plucking up an old sack and slinging it over his shoulder to give the impression he was doing something.
“Goodbye,” I said and marched up the stairs. I took a deep breath before entering the dirty house. The air was heavy with dust and moist soil.
“Meg, can you tell your brother to run and borrow the wheel barrel from the Jalson’s so he can re-pack our foundation before it rains again?” mother glanced up upon my entry. She was skinning some pathetic-looking potatoes.
“Sure,” I replied, knowing it wasn’t a good idea to tell her Steven had already left.
“Oh, mom. Aren’t you supposed to wash those potatoes before you skin them?” Annalisa asked, taking off her worn, grey sweater.
“I did.”
Annalisa and I made eye contact. Those potatoes were definitely not clean.
“Would you let me rinse them again? If you want, I can finish up the job,” Annalisa volunteered. She rolled up her sleeves and stepped to the old sink. Her hand moved to the knob and twisted it. A bronze liquid poured out. “Alright,” Annalisa said, turning the faucet off. She dried her hands on a rag beside the sink and glanced at me: “Let’s go next door and fill up a bucket or two of good water.”
“Okay,” I agreed. Steven would be mad about this! Maybe he’d do something. Maybe he’d go out and approach one of the Kerises (the military force placed over our small city of Gadeloff to “protect us”) and ask for a new sink or pump!
“Come on.”
I followed Annalisa out the thin-framed front door and descended on our rickety steps. We walked down the road, our ruined shoes squishing into the mud. The sky was grey and clouded. A small breeze, ran over my arms, causing me to shiver. Most the houses were similar to ours. They were either a make-shift shack of wooden boards or a cold, white brick. The white brick houses were normally drafty and crumbling while the wooden shacks were damp. We had to watch Rylan carefully. My mother feared he’d become sick with bronchitis or something worse. In truth, we all had a little cough—even Steven.
“Where are we going? If the pump is messed up here, it’s probably messed up at the neighbors and the neighbors’ neighbors!” I said.
“We’re going to The Office,” Annalisa admitted, pulling her shawl closer. I looked at her with admiration.
“Oh, The Office?” I asked. Our little town had a “capital” building which we called “The Office.” Here we were able to make requests and pay taxes toward the regime.
“Yup,” my sister agreed, her chin held high and her eyes focused on the road before us.
“But they’ve never been much help before. Steven says—.”
“Well we’ve never asked before and don’t listen to Steven. His overenthusiastic nature will be his downfall. He sees answers where there aren’t problems,” Annalisa warned.
I wanted to argue, but something in the road caught my attention. A Keris, an officer employed by President Teklate to secure his power, was walking toward us. Determination governed his step. I held my breath, trying not to make eye contact, but, at the same time, I didn’t want to seem suspicious by looking everywhere else!
“Look, Megan,” Annalisa said, pulling me closer as she spoke. Her voice was just a stern whisper. “I know we can’t live like this forever—do not think that I approve this system, sister. I only believe that we’re not ready for a rebellion yet.”
‘When will we be ready? When we are too starving to fight? When we are too weak, tired and over-worked to move?’ I had my father and brother’s passion, but knew now was not the time to discuss. Annalisa knew what had to happen, but also had conflicting feelings for several reasons.
“I wonder where he was going,” Annalisa commented once the Keris was gone.
“I’m not sure, but he looked like a man on duty,” I agreed, picking up the pace slightly. We came into the Round. It was a cleared, circular, brick area, around which, government-run business were set up: the post office, the Keris Station, a small bar (for Kerises only), a bank and The Office.
“Smile like we’re content and walk like we mean business,” Annalisa said. “That’s how we’ll gain our success.”
I nodded and followed her in through the swinging office door. The ceiling was not very high and it was rather stuffy. A thin smoke hung in the air and burned my eyes. My nose moved quickly to my arm as I coughed. The carpet felt weird under my feet. It was an emerald green, but had been worn thin. The walls were a cream and the ceiling was made of white styrofoam panels, yellowed with time and smoke. Before us, a long, white counter spanned the entire length of the room. Little, plastic white bars separated us from the people behind them. It looked a lot like the bank and the little spaces where each bank teller would exchange money to each costumer.
“Alright, so…” Annalisa said, unsure.
“What do you two girls need?”
We jumped and my eyes flitted to one barred window. A man with short black hair greased forward and annoying brown eyes leaned over the counter. He raised his eye brows impatiently.
“Oh.” Annalisa moved forward. I searched her face. Something, perhaps the determination, had washed out of it leaving it nervous, but she quickly recovered herself.
“We’re here because—,” she started, but the man behind the counter cut her off with an exasperated: “Name, address, box number and THEN request—MAYBE.”
“Okay, well. I’m Anna—.”
“Hey, Carnac, I can take them,” a familiar voice said.
“Good,” the man in front of us, Carnac, said.
I eyed Annalisa. Her irises sparkled with hope and a little smile tugged at the corner of her right lip. She forced it down and slid over two spots.
“Why don’t you go on break?” the voice called again.
“You think you can handle being the only one in here, kid?” Carnac returned.
“Yeah, who comes in here?”
“Eh, I don’t know,” Carnac mumbled, “but I guess. See ya, Everett.”
‘Mace Everett?’ My heart jumped as I heard Carnac disappear. ‘As in my sister’s sweet heart Everett?’ I joined her at the counter and recognized Mace’s black hair and deep, puppy dog, brown eyes. His contagious smile and dark eye brows were serious. “Name, address, box number and then your request please, Miss Ellow.”
“Um, alright. Fredrick Ellow, A17, 53,” Annalisa said thoughtfully, giving our information.
“Alright, you’re good.” Something like curiosity broke over Mace’s face. He gave a glance around and leaned forward on the desk. “Is Steven at the rally tonight?”
“Oh, um,” Annalisa blinked. “Yes, but anyway…”
“Yeah, sorry. I’ve just been wondering. So what can we do for you?” Mace continued.
“The plumbing is out again. We have rust colored water.”
“Well you won’t have to worry about that too long,” he commented, writing a note on our request form. I watched my sister’s face. She studied his hand as it scribbled something down and then she glanced up, saying: “Why?”
“Cuz, we’re getting Teklate and his Kerises out of here,” Mace said, eyes glowing with the same passion that I’d seen in my brother’s eyes.
“But you’re a Keris. Mace, if you have a big hand in this and then it dies, it’ll backfire majorly on you,” Annalisa warned.
“But it won’t—not this time, Anna.”
‘He seems so sure; so solidly ground.’ I thought, grasping at the familiar idea of unfamiliar freedom.
“We have nothing to fight with,” Annalisa continued.
“Not yet, but tonight I’ll unlock the Keris’ gun safe and—.”
“You can’t just do that,” Annalisa stated sincerely, her voice cracking.
“Why not? Our law says—,” Mace started again, but Annalisa cut him off.
“Our law says that it’s illegal to steal from the Kerises.”
“But—oh, Annalisa, you’ll see. For now, you should go home before the others get here. I don’t want you two getting in this middle of this,” Mace said.
“Mace Everett, don’t make dumb decisions that you’ll regret,” Annalisa cautioned, her eyes searching his face. I tried tracking the conversation to understand who was right. They both were right in their own way, but I was bias to Mace’s opinion (mostly because he sided with change and I wanted change.)
“I won’t, I’ve gotta come back to marry you,” he added.
“I think you’ll have to talk to my brother about that. Good luck. Stay safe,” Annalisa said, turning around. I followed her as she started for the swinging door. ‘Tonight? Is change coming tonight?’ My thoughts were a blur as I reached forward to open the door that wasn’t there. Cold air met my hands, drifting up my wrists. Glancing up, I recognized the charcoal sky and the pearly white stars of Gadeloff.
“Annalisa, Megan!” I blinked as I met the eyes of Steven. “Get home.”
“Okay,” I murmured. Behind him were about twenty other citizens; their gazes, determined, jaws set and eyes prepared. A few were bearing torches glowing of golden flames.
“Come on, Megan,” Annalisa said, prodding me gently out the door. “Hurry. I don’t think we want to get caught up in this.”
“But—,” I stared. Something was going to happen. Things were going to change. I, Megan Ellow, longed to be there. Annalisa grabbed my hand and dragged me out. Her hand was cold and sweaty against mine, but I did not notice much. We hurried across the Round and up our road and to our house. Road A. House seventeen. My heart was pulsing in my throat and my head was pounding. Fear and anxiety was growing in my stomach as:
BOOM. The first gun shot sounded. They had done it. They had broken into the Keris’ safe and now…change was upon us. Another gun shot answered it, echoing around the valley. Was that another shot from our side or our opponent joining the battle? I closed my eyes, trying desperately to block out the reoccurring pictures, plaguing my mind of Mace or Steven dead. ‘What would my world be like without Steven?’ Not one single door on our street was opened. The people that really cared would have been at the rally and the rest were scared or used to the little outbursts every once in a while.
Annalisa and I flew up our stairs, but she stopped me on the top step. “Meg.”
“Yeah?” I breathed, eyeing the handle longingly.
“I’m not sure what to say to mom. Do you have any ideas?” she asked taking breaths in between.
“No.” How to tell mom. It wasn’t going to be good any way we chose to tell her—that I knew for certain.
“Okay. Well, let’s not act super crazy,” Annalisa advised, turning to open the door.
“Annalisa…I think she’ll know,” I stated. My older sister nodded gravely and then clicked open the door. It was pitch black inside, besides a small candle in the far corner where mother sat, leaning against the wall. My heart broke. How could we tell her that her eldest son just broke the law and could potentially lose his life? She worked so hard.
Annalisa entered first and I closed the door behind myself. We walked carefully around the old, falling apart, makeshift island that separated our tiny kitchen from our living/sleeping room. I spotted Rylan, lying in his cardboard box/bed. He was so cute all curled in his blanket—so innocent.
“Mother,” Annalisa whispered gently, crouching in front of mom. I held my breath as we waited for her response. “Mother.”
“Annalisa, hello,” my mother said, peeking her eyes open. Strands of her graying, brown hair was falling out of her bun.
“Hello, um…mom.”
Bam. Bam. Bam. Bam. I jumped, goose bumps spreading up my legs, arms and neck.
“Mom I…” Annalisa continued hesitatingly.
“Steven,” my mother sighed, leaning back against the wall. She closed her eyes, trying to deny tears. “They don’t know that this can’t work.” Her voice shook with emotion. A pained expression crossed her face.
“But if it did—,” I started. Annalisa shot me a warning look, tears shining in her own eyes.
We sat in silence for a long time just enduring the random explosions in the world beyond. I finally sat down Indian Style on the floor and rested my eyes. I don’t remember lying down and falling asleep, but apparently, I did.
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