The Parables

Mii - Precinct Twelve

Mii - Precinct Twelve

My heart thumps against my chest in a constant rhythm, feeding me energy that is soon used up by my active limbs. Strapping muscles protrude from my gaunt legs, the power that drives them on to keep me moving fast for so long. The biceps and triceps of my svelte arms are strong themselves, but they don't use as much energy as my lower limbs.

The picturesque countryside sweeps past me within seconds, my quick pace not slow enough for me to be able to capture it's true beauty within my mind. Perseverance pulses through my body, lighting the flame of power and stamina that fuels my beating heart. That is how I imagine my thirst for fitness, my passion for running: a conflagrant flame, determination and love fueling it to stay ignited. The minute I stop, the flame smoulders to an ash. But that flame is soon to be reborn.

I sprint over meadows of lush green grass, each emerald blade adorned with dew drops glistening in the morning sun. The golden rays shower down on me like a spotlight, revealing me to the rest of the world. With the light, my shadow emerges from the darkness as a companion for me. As nobody can keep up with me, I run alone through the Precinct, covering acres of land every single day. The exercise tears away the flesh on my stomach, slimming me down so I'm as thin as a stick.

But dark secrets haunt me whilst I'm out running. The secrets that would drown me in trouble if ever discovered by anyone. As a naive twelve-year-old, I should be in education, tutored by teachers about the ways of life. But, I choose a different path. I choose to run.

The tepid atmosphere has a light breeze and the only sounds come from songbirds, whistling faint tunes from the boughs of the trees. My Papa would've been able to tell me what birds they were, just from listening to their sweet melodies. But he hasn't ventured outside in a long time. From where our shack is situated, bird songs are practically extinct. The tunes are drowned out by the loud noises of the harbour, boats arriving and boats leaving.

Veering left, I head down a narrow alley. Washing lines hang limply from the tall walls of the building, holding up damp clothes that blow to and fro in the wind. I dodge rubbish bins and slip past the odd person or two before heading out of the alleyway and carrying on down the main road, leading to the harbour.

My older brother, Jett, has a job in the shipping industry, earning money for the family instead of Papa. Every day, I make my way down to the harbour at about midday to see Jett, as he is usually on his lunch break. He doesn't know I skip school; instead, I tell him that we're allowed out during our lunch break.

Suddenly, the sound of twelve sharp peals of a brass bell reach my ears. I speed up a bit, running faster to the harbour. Turning left, I head into the docking area. Many ships are anchored alongside the docks, men unloading large wooden crates from the ship, carrying them over to the storage barns. I jog alongside the docks until I spot the ship, Marilyn. Jett talked about Marilyn this morning, saying how she was a boat carrying precious cargo and he was lucky enough to be able to step on board the ship and gather the cargo.

All of a sudden, a head with slick ebony hair catches my eyes. The head belongs to a broad-shouldered, tanned man wearing overalls and green boots, carrying a heavy-looking crate. My eyes light up as I watch him carry the box over to the storage barn and put it down, wiping his sweaty forehead from the hard work.

"Jett!" I jog towards him. Jett spins around and grins. He wipes his hands on a grimy cloth and walks over to me.

"Hey, little sis," he greets, ruffling my hair. I roll my eyes.

"Was Marilyn nice?" I ask.

Jett smiles at me. "She was beautiful. The best-looking ship in all of Arixona. Plus, she had a good load of cargo too. Might get an extra wage for unloading her."