Book by: EmilyM
Courage, confidence and bravery is what I need.
"No. No thank you."
Except, thats exactly what I don't have.
"Because... I'm tired."
My father is a broad man. He is tall and handsome. His eyes are a bright green like mine. I also have his dirty blonde hair. His skin is tanned and olivey and when he smiles, the skin around his eyes crinkle in a natural way.
How he looks and dresses makes him look like a very friendly, smart man. He has a deep soothing voice.
I can see why my mother married him.
Daddy's always taken care of me and given me anything I need or want. He won't tell me where he works or what he does. "It's a secret that you shall uncover when you are older!" I recall him saying that in my bedroom one night. All I know is that it gets my family a lot of money.
We have never had trouble finically. Well, as far as I know. My parents never tell me anything. We're always going on trips around the world, discovering and exploring. A month ago we went to Paris for my 10th birthday. It was beautiful and a wonderful experience. I just wish that I got to spend it with my other friends back home. Technically, we don't have a home. We are always somewhere across the globe. Our house is merely just a place to store our antiques and things. I used to go to school but now I'm home schooled. My parents made that decision the day after I turned 10.
Mother wants me to learn another language. I don't know which one I want to choose yet. I'm currently learning the basic's of African. We're in Africa now. I didn't know there was a place called 'Africa' before I came here. It's a beautiful place. I don't mean to be rude but the people here, they colour is strange and new to my eyes. I'm not saying I haven't seen it anywhere else. Just never on a person.
Odd colour. I must say, it does really suit people though, just like white.
"Oh please, just one short walk, down by the river!" Father tries to persuade me. I want to go, I really do but I'm afraid. Afraid to leave my cabin. Apparently there are snakes and spiders out there.
"Daddy, I just want to sleep." I moan, stomping my foot. We're standing outside the cabin door, overlooking the brown grass and various, plain trees that I can't name. To be honest, this particular place is boring.
I want to go to disneyland.
It's fun there. Not here. All you can do it walk, walk and walk.
Just walking is boring.
"Oh but darling! Please! It will be a wonderful experience! We could go see if you could swim in the river!" Father says enthusiastically, taking both my hands in his. I lean forward and look at the only water here. Of course I can't swim in it. We both know that. It's the people who live here, it's their source of water and it's going to fast and is to deep anyway. He just wants me to get out of this cabin.
"No." I say stubbornly, taking my hands from his, crossing my arms. He juts his bottom lip out but doesn't protest. He stands up, towering over me. He smiles and places a hand on my cheek.
"Mummy and I will be back in less than an hour. If you're not going to come then we'll probably go a little further north into the jungle." He points at the bushes, trees and shrubs to the right of here. I nod and pretend to yawn.
"Go have a nap, sweetie." he says, kissing my forehead
"Love you." I whisper, moving toward my bed in the far corner.
"Love you too." He grins before closing the door behind him. I sigh and climb under my sheet. I don't really need the sheet because it's so hot but I'm going to play it safe and act like I'm sleeping, just in case one of them comes back...
My mother is six years younger than my father. They meet in a pet store. They haven't told me the full story yet. My mum has long, brown hair and brown eyes. I look nothing like her. I love my mother but I feel like I know Daddy better.
I fall in and out of consciousness, not able to sleep for a long period of time because of the hot temperature.
I dream about how it would be like to live in Paris. I also dream about Greece and what is would feel like to be a Greek god.
When I finally do wake up, it’s dark outside. Father said that they’d only be gone for an hour…
I throw my sheet off of me and stand up, stretching my stiff legs. I pull my sweaty and sticky shorts from my thighs. I slip on my lime green flip-flops and open my door.
I stand on the porch for a few seconds, letting my eyes adjust to the darkness. I quickly turn to the right and sprint forward into the darkness. I slow down to a walk when I get to the main cabin, which is where you check in and pay for accommodations and tours.
The room is dimly lit by a single candle on a small, round, wooden table in the center of the room. Heaps of people have been somehow squeezed into this small area. They are talking loudly and are walking around the room, quickly and urgently, maps, papers, pens, pencils and things in their hands.
“Wat gaan aan?” I ask. (What’s going on)? The room falls silent and all eyes are on me.
“Wat gaan aan!?” I demand, stomping my foot and crossing my arms. (What’s going on)!?
Someone clears their throat and lowers their paper from their hands.
“Twee mense is as vermis aangemeld .... Jou ma en father. Your Moeder en vader weggegaan vir 'n lang tyd…” They say as calmly as they can. It takes a moment for me to process what they said,
‘Two people were reported missing .... Your mother and father. Your Mother and father went away for a long time.’ I gasp and take a step back, my heart skipping a beat. I feel the blood drain from my face as I take another unsteady step, backwards. No, no, no. This can’t be.
“Hulle is dood. Jy bedoel?” I whisper, my hand hovering at my throat. (They died. You mean?) My breath quickens when no one speaks. I feel the tears begin to prick at the back of my eyes and I fall forward onto my knees, letting a small sob escape from my mouth. I let my hands fall to the wooden floor before I roll onto my side. I bring my knees to my chest.
“Weet nie. Daar kan nog 'n kans.” (We do not know. There could still be a chance). They can’t be dead. They wouldn’t leave me!
I quickly stand up and make a break for the door. Someone steps in front of me and wraps their arms around me. The more I struggle and scream, the tighter they grip. Once I feel like I can’t breath and almost everyone is trying to restrain me, I fall limp in the person’s grip, my chest heaving uncomfortably. I sob, my body hunched over the persons arms. They left me. They’re not coming back.
Reality catches up to me as another sob escapes my lips.
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