Friendly Enemies

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                       PART ONE
                       CHAPTER 4:
                  "Friendly Enemies"

When the sheep and I reached the final stop of the metro, the emissions exhausted a crooked sound, choking out bits of black smoke that threatened vital pipes. The sky was as dark as a void, casting shadows of light from the moon that stretched miles on. I remained still, waiting for the rest of the sheep herd to follow their leader. Once the sheep had departed, only the air guided me outside the metro to a town of mysterious lookings.

Surrounded by Gothic architectures and paved roads, I was wooed by the difference of what this place meant to me and what the farm did to me. I left the world for a moment, seeking something my eyes couldn't handle, a beauty in the dark my mind tried to unfold, a distant light in a tunnel that spoke beyond this world.

Fully spinning around, I finished peering at what buildings enclosed on me, verifying that this place was more structured than the rural areas but terrifying, for that meant the dark rulers walked among us, like parasites that want to stay with you until you died. Stalking me with lenses of confusion, Kite rose his hand, patiently waiting for me to take it.

Strange sheep he was, Kite yanked my leg after I gave him no immediate response, plunging him into acting impulsively. Legs of mine skated across the cobblestone streets harshly, scraping my nails. I felt no pain, instead I pushed the bleating sheep to the ground like a bully, taunting Kite with my frustrated breath. I stepped over him and towered, wanting to put all my woes on him. I wanted to blame someone.

Then he inched his head upward, pointing to a sign above with his tiny horns. Behold stood a miniature shop just corners behind a huge marketplace that sold jewelry and pearls. My heart paced to the contents of my thoughts, filtering out what I was going to do to Kite. Something about the shop reeled me in like a magnetic force and I had yet to explain the strange sensation.

"This, this will forever change your life." The sheep warned, letting his head bend low for a second before lifting himself up. My eyes took the time to read everything clearly, "OPEN YOUR MIND" read the sign above.

Kite took initiative in swinging the door past him, waiting for me to join him in a ride I felt unprepared for. What journey must I embark now? I'm all alone, so what must I have to lose in order to be happy? Before I knew it, my feet were on the romantic coloring of the carpet below, and gifts upon gifts shined from the shelves.

Ancient books also dominated the small shop, huge signs hanging over them indicating there's a sale for every story in here. The walls, they smelled of a comforting scent, like a sunny day at a sandy beach, or the fragrances humans sometimes masked themselves in. Walls that enclosed us not only gave a comfortable vibe, though it's peculiar color, a hint of green mixed with a baby beige, made me feel secure.

This all felt too familiar, like the homes mom and I used to take refuge in whenever the sky settled in for a hurricane of a storm or when the pelts of snow predicated the trenches of surplus inches. My feet were weightless as if clouds guided me across the shop, with every shining light taking me to a new direction, a new way look of things.

From the back of the shop, a middle-aged man crept to the front desk, leaving a secret door behind him. He appeared kind, though his species reeked of a human, a common enemy among my mind right about now. I startled toward the door, but the sheep blocked my tracks, making annoyance come easy this time around.

The sheep wore on this face of bravery, not submitting to me like he did a few minutes ago, and only then I realized something. I had turned against my own people like the humans did. This realization struck me like an electric guitar, shocking thoughts of understanding shooting through my core, my heart.

"You're gonna want to turn around."

"Sheep..."

"Believe me for once. Just believe." When Kite reassured I won't die here, I faced my back towards the black sheep, taking note of the middle-aged man standing right in front of me. It was like he transported in my direction within a flash.

Within a flash, I saw his soulful eyes, they pranced around with a strong will, immediately captivating my attention. The man was as bald as an eagle flying through a mountainous region, yet his long white beard cascaded down to his chest ruggedly as it hadn't been brushed. Chapped his lips were, the middle-aged human delivered a warm smile. That's when I knew, I wasn't going to die a terrible death. My fate wasn't going to be my mother's.

"I'm called, 'The One with the Answers', though I simply help others realize their truths. I'm Dayo. What do people call you?" The middle-aged man said with his hands behind his back.

Admitting, I said, "My name is Lowell. I hate it though."

"Your reasoning is?"

"I'm nothing like my name. I find it useless." Dayo kept his hands at bay, now turning keen to a direction other than mine. His eyes surfaced on a little toy that could be a gift for a boy less my age.

"Lowell, Lowell, Lowell." Dayo continued on like a melody, the tone almost felt mocked. "It means the young wolf."

"Yes." I nodded.

"The spirit of the wolf is no easy path to walk through. The wolf is often quick when faced with fear, rash when it comes to situational thoughts, perhaps brave when it wants to be."

Dayo then walked back in my general direction, revealing his foreign accent that he hid so well. He had just shown me his true self, and my heart told me he demanded I do the same.

"But boy, you are everything I described. You were fearful when you tried to walk away, impulsive when you attacked your fellow sheep, and brave when you stayed. So tell me, are you ready for what's to come, my dear?"

"What's to come?"

Dayo took a deep breath. It was driven with determination.

"Change."

Vote and change will happen.

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