Reads: 18

The Invisible Dragon

"I shall slay it!" the boy cried, standing on the chair with a stick brandished high like a sword. "I shall slay the dragon!" For all the rags he wore and his dirt-stained face, he looked the part of a young hero in child form, and he leapt up to land on the dirt of their house's floor.

He swept his "sword" side to side in the air at the invisible dragon. "Hahaha!" he said, a forced, spoken laugh. "The dragon is gone! I have saved the kingdom."

His little sister, a 4-year-old likewise in a raggedy, torn dress that wore too tight for her, looked sadly at the invisible dragon. She went to where it would be lying, stabbed with her brother's sword, and she petted the air. "He is still alive!" she claimed. "Do not worry, dragon! I shall take care of you!" She pulled off the scarf she wore, which was sizes too large, and lay it on the ground for a bed.

"Silly woman!" her brother cried. "I killed him! He's dead! No one can survive the Sword of Oliver!"


Years later, Oliver's sister lay on the ground, bleeding from her side. The blood soaked through her dress (again sizes too small) and onto the dirt floor of their house. 

The robbers in town had plundered their meager home—and left her with a stab only for spite of them having naught for them to steal.

Oliver rushed to the old chair nearby and grabbed his scarf from it, placing it over his sister. There was nothing else to do.

"Do not worry, sister," he said, between tears. "I shall take care of you. You deserve to be cared forafter all, you had the heart to save an invisible dragon."

Submitted: September 18, 2022

© Copyright 2022 B.J. Vancheyson. All rights reserved.


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