Seeing Green

one | eno

At a time, we were rich.

I was five. The war had well began, but nobody told me. No one told me, with my full head of black curly hair and light chocolate skin. I figured it out myself. I mean, there were gunshots in the midst of dinner, which is kind of abnormal in a country where half of Europe used to be.

Am would whisper "War. Please don't let there be no war." Then Telsa, my retsis, would hug her and say "It's okay. We'll fight those rebels. All eight of us." That's right. There were eight of us. But sharing a big house with eight is a lot easier than the basements of vacant houses.

We used to each have our own rooms and personal jewels for luck. We used to have access to the trains that break the speed of light. We even used to have nine family members. And now back to eight.

Currently, we're living in what remains from France, Paris is what my history teacher told me, which apparently was the city before the extroverts began taking over. They've ruined a lot of famous cities. It's not like we didn't condemn anything either, but I guess the capital of our little mess of a nation doesn't want to look bad even if we do.

Because obviously one side is good in a war.

Well, my summary's over. I have to go get some fish from the stream next to the old building we live in called the Elbatsnu, aka Unstable.

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I pull out some shoes from Telsa's sack of shoes and slip them on so I can head to the stream in style. Who am I kidding, it's not a big deal, we're poor anyways. I step on a few pointy rocks and don't flinch this time. Hopefully it's not a seriously scary condition.

Left right, behind that tree. My feet touch the path of branches that leads to my new hangout as well as the stream. After about 20 yards, it'll lead right at the shore. Since it's in the forest, no one wants to bother with the tree house that sits nearly above the stream. I climb up the wooden house and get out my string, then climb back down and head towards the edge of the flowing water.

"You will regret stepping foot on this side of the land," I hear someone growl in the background. Looking around, I can't see anyone, but as soon as my head is turned again, I hear a clean punch.

Oh. Another fight.

Almost all the time, boys on different sides that happen to meet up will come to this forest to fight each other, since letting the higher class citizens settle all politics with politics is just overrated. I've been in one before, but only to defend myself.

"Don't hurt anyone else on my side. You're so ignorant I just have to make sure you won't harm innocent civilians," the one that must be on my side says. They're getting closer, so I climb into my tree house, making sure I don't give either of them a chance to suddenly attack me, even the France native.

"Oh, right. Of course I won't hurt anyone, since you don't want anyone to get hurt," the extro-rebel snarls.

"No wonder people I know have warned me about you people. You really are sick in the head."

"It's called survival." I can hear him shrug sarcastically, they're so close. "I'm going to tie you to this stupid shack and set you on fire so if someone is dumb enough to travel here, at least they'll get a nice view." Not my stupid shack- I mean tree house! Should I kick his balls into orbit around the sun or just try to negotiate? Sometimes, I feel like an ambivert, when I think of violence and peace. I pick choice two, regardless.

"Um, you two, do you mind," I begin, hopping out of my house, "if you asked the owner of this quote on quote 'stupid shack'- seriously, what's really stupid if you think shacks have this kind of elevation- to burn down the house that she has owned since its completion nine years ago?" The guys are shocked at least to see that a girl had been hearing them taunt each other, and it's hysterically hilarious to see their face expressions.