Day 232 on Earth

Our village of Phoenix received visitors today; large men who brought with them a stench almost unbearable to be near. Near their feet, a baby stumbled along, bearing a hopeless, emotionless expression on its face. My heart reached out to the child, knowing he had been mistreated. It took all that I had to not run to him, protect him, as if he were my own. The sight of him instilled a new sense of faith in me, a sense I had barely recognized since I hadn’t felt it since before the war. My partner held me back, placing a sturdy resisting forearm across my chest, he was my own protector, the person I related trust to, if that even existed in this “new” world of ours. The men approached us and at last I was able to appease my own curiosity. I scooped the child into my arms trying to express kindness through both my touch and my eyes; clearly the child had been deprived of that ever since it was captured. The men seem to be disconnected from the child, the “it”. Unnatural powers or not, this being was the closest thing any of us had seen of youth since before the war, “it” was something to be treasured, marveled, not tossed around as a piece of garbage. My discontent towards the mistreat of the child grew rapidly and so did my hate towards these cavelike men. We were human; taught and well aware of how to treat beings and yet they disposed this intellect as useless knowledge.

I knew this child, this thing, had to be mine. I had to save it from its current cruel captors. Resister or not, our community would not allow unjust treatment, I wouldn’t allow it. Now, I only need to convince my husband this child is worth the fight, the trade.

— Tate

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