The Otherlings
//TW// death and violence
Two boys sit calmly in the tall grass by the pond. The clear water swirls
with the movement of brightly colored fish.
Zzzzzap. Another one hits the fence. The taller, stockier boy lifts up an old pool
cleaning net and scoops out the charred fish, adding it to their bucket.
âDaniel, have you ever thought about the otherlings?â The other boy,
meek but strong bodied, cowered at the question.
âWhat do you mean? Of course I havenât thought of them, why would I
think of them?â
âI donât know. I guess⊠Well itâs just, they were just like us too? And now
they are not, and well, what if we turned into otherlings, Danny?â The other
shakes his head and stares out at the fish. He grabs up another net and wades in
to reach the fish closest to the fence.
âJess. You know the rules. Just donât think about it okay? Thereâs no need
to think about it.â He throws the fish in the bucket from where he is standing
and smiles. A small thoughtless smile. Jess hardly notices, his face is toward the
ground, his fingers twirling the long blades of grass.
âBut why? Why is there no need to talk about it? That doesnât make any
sense, Daniel, WE are the ones that have to live so close to the gate, WE are the
ones that get turned into those sad, disgusting creatures, WE should be allowed
to talk about it and figure out why it happens. So why is there no need?â
âJess⊠theyâll hear you⊠keep quiet, please.â In a flash of heat Jess stands,
taking the pole in hand and swallowing a fish in the net. His quick movement
causes him to slip
"Thatâs all you care about! Youâre always telling me to be quiet, but Iâve
had enough of it, okay? Far too much of it! I am setting up meetings, I-Iâm going
to do something! I canât just keep sitting here not thinking. Thinking is what
makes us human and what makes them otherlings. They are brainless, bloody,
rotting creatures that do what theyâre told when theyâre told. We donât have to
be like that. We donât have to do that! The Listeners are probably the ones
controlling the otherlings anyway, Daniel, and Iâm done letting them control
me! Come on, Danny, please?â Daniel looks into his best friend's eyes torn with
his love for him and his fear of the Listeners.
Bang
Jess's soaked body sinks, painting the water as bright as the fish.
âDaniel Gonzalez come with us please.â
The other boy, crying, soaked in blood, and no longer torn follows.
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