The Fruits of Reclaimation

The New World

             London sat up in his small little box, rubbing his head gently. How long had he been in there? It felt like he had been in there  for days, if not weeks. He stretched a bit, cracking his knuckles and joints as he finally got up. Crawling up, he broke up to the surface, laying back on the ground and looking up at the sky. It displayed a vibrant blue, burning his eyes from the sudden amount of light. He laughed a bit to himself, rolling around in the grass, happy he was out of his imprisonment. 

           He stopped, and wondered. He sat deep in thought for a moment, and realized a number of things that quickly made his smile into a frown. He couldn't remember what had happened before the wooden prison, he couldn't remember why he was in the wooden prison, but most of all, he couldn't remember who he even was. He patted down his entire body, his arms, his legs, his face, it was all there, it was all him, but who was he? Feeling nothing but fear now, he glanced down at where the box had been, and only became terrified. There was no hole in the ground from which he crawled up, not even a sign life had been here in years as green grass had overgrown the dirt, but even more, there was a grey stone covered in vines in front of the dirt. It was cracked and too faded to read. What was this? He couldn't understand anything. He stumbled backwards, hyperventilating, and laying on the ground. Nothing made any sense to him.

           He felt something soft touch and slide across his ankle and leg, causing him to shriek, crawling backwards a full foot before stopping, looking at what could have touched him. A small, grey fluffy cat stood there on all fours, shaking it's head before staring straight at London with narrowed eyes. "Could you scream any louder? I want to lose my hearing next time."

          The cat spoke in a soft voice, a soothing aura filling the air with it. Wait a second, the cat spoke. It spoke English! London sat there completely befuddled, confused at what he had just heard and wondering if something was wrong with him. He could do nothing but sit there for a moment, before clearing his throat softly, feeling as if it was closing in, his windpipe stopping his breathing. "Did... did you just say something?" "Course I did big fella, you act as if this is a surprise!" 

           He heard it clearly, it didn't make sense, but he knew what just happened. He stood up and took a long look in the distance. Past the crumbling stone heads and overgrown trees were roads, houses, and cars. That's where he should be. Out in the streets, playing with the other kids. But there's a clear divider. Between civilization and the field of rocks and wood, there lays a small brick wall. Despite being so close, he strangely felt as if he wouldn't be welcome to cross that border. He starts moving, breaking into a run to make it to the wall, and he's stopped. He doesn't know how or why, but he's pushed backwards towards the cat. It speaks up. "Do you understand now, breaker?"