Back to Monnie

Chapter One

                                                                                                 1915

      The last thing I remembered was preparing heat for both of my parents. We lived in the United States, the southern near the country lines where I was brought up. I liked it - it was much better than living in the center of town - where everybody knew everyone quite well. At the age nine, my mother told me I was originally from the Western tribe First Nations, her and my father found me hidden beneath a Oak tree with branches, and twigs piled above me, giving me warmth.

      I was wrapped in bison fur, and bark made into tough strings. The warmth - oh the heavily warmth was the last thing I remembered as a kid. It's the memory I always had for my small family. I did have a small family, just me, my mother, my father, and my younger sister, Monnie. She's much younger than I am, six years old. A sensitive bright soul she has, always out in the yard entertaining herself, or us as it comes to not being so busy. A light small pudgy smile, huge dark brown eyes, naturally honey tanned, and a simple low cut hairstyle. Our mother always valued to keep Monnie's hair in two side ponytails - that's who she preferred it.

     I've did my best to guide Monnie with care, she's all who I have left, there's no other brown skinned identity living near, or in central town, furthermore - there is one. Her name is Oggy Dawn, seventeen years old, the very same age as me. Oggy's been my close friend since - well for good. We're always together doing what we love most - talk. She's fair minded with a warm caring soul, always in the Hollow Tavern finding what she can for her grandmother's tea kettle. Oggy's life is hard, and frustrating as much as mine. When we're together it doesn't seem like we're living in grief and starvation - it's more of enjoyment, and maturing. Curved black eyes, long black silk hair kept in a low braid, naturally honey tanned, a low firm spine, and quite thinner than I am, five-foot-five. I always looked out for Oggy, she's more than a best friend in my life - she's my blood sister too.

     Arriving back to the imperfect cabin near the railway country lines, in my left hand I held a pot filled with hot water, in my right, Monnie's small hand was tied with mine. She smiled, and ran over to our dad, Jay Suet, a forty year old skilled ole' farmer. Our father did love and accepted us for who me, and Monnie were, also our mother too. Rita Suet, a thirty-nine year old classic out-dated woman. Monnie was greatly close with our mother, they shopped together for our essential needs, while I helped my father plow the grass, and fed our dogs - Brucy and Libby.

     Monnie headed into the house, leaving Libby to follow her.

    "Here, let me get that August", dad said, grabbing the pot from me in a hurry.

    "Thanks dad". I smiled over-worked.

     "Get inside, it's much cooler, August you look dead", dad chuckled, and gently nudged me through the front door.