The boy and the wall - A moral storyA Story by IsimbabiThis is a short story about trust and kindness. Remember: The village is trust The wall is the highest point of trust The Lake is regret The forest is time The rope is defiance The chair is chance
There was a forrest called time and within that forest there was village called trust that sat at the center of a big lake named regret and in that village lived a boy.
Trust had walls that bordered it like those of jericho. The only difference? Everybody was allowed to climb to the top of it. They even had stairs built into it's side to aid ascent and help anyone who wanted to see over the wall and when you did, you were at the highest point. The boy and his parents through his childhood would climb to the very top of the wall and they'd point out to him the areas in the Forrest they lived in before finally buying their way into the village. When he grew old enough that he was allowed to go out by himself, he didnt play like the other kids. He didn't want to play in the park or across the street. Every morning after breakfast he would go to the top of the wall. Because it was allowed, he would look over it and admire the beautiful green Forrest and the glittering lake. He would walk along the edge of the wall just so he could see a little bit farther. He had been told stories of all the honorable trials those who live in the village had gone through in time just to be allowed into the village. "Why would anyone leave such a beautiful place just to be caged in?" The question fascinated him. One day he got to the highest point of trust again but this time he brought a rope called defiance and a large chair called chance. He tied one end of the rope to the wall and the other to the chair and then he threw the chair as far as he could and it landed in the forest. He slid down the rope but half way through the distance, the rope freed itself from the chair and he plummeted down into the lake. It was dirty and had all sort of items in it. From pieces silver and gold at the bottom to petals of dead flowers atop of it. The moment his feet touched earth at the bank he realised he didn't like it there. The grasses and shrubs were brown and dead. The rope hadn't untied it self, the chair had been stolen. The people there didn't smile or laugh, they competed with each other to find food, shelter and a way over the wall. And when they weren't doing that, they were planning schemes and stealing from each other - This was the farthest thing from the beautiful sea of green he had seen from the top of the wall. He couldnt live for another second among these savages. He decided to return to the village but his rope was useless. He jumped back in the lake and swam till he reached the gates. "Why should we allow you in?" The guards asked. He could think of only one reason, he said "I'm from the village. I fell off the wall" the guards took one look at him and could tell he was lying and they said if he wanted to go through he had to buy his way back in. "That's going to be easy," he thought. His father had bought his way into trust with just a single flower. He swam through the lake again and this time he touched ground full of hope and he found the plant very quickly. One after the other he carefully cut the flowers and put them together until he formed a bunch the size of a tree and he kept picking until he was sure they couldn't refuse it. When he was done he jumped back into the water and swam again. This time he was exhausted, His lips couldn't stay sealed. Some of the water got into his mouth and It was so bitter that the taste alone nearly caused him to drown. He got to the gates again and he could barely speak. He handed the flowers to the guards and without a second glance they cast it into the lake and said "A man once brought these and now we have thousands of them growing in the village. Bring something else." The boy, frustrated, swam again through the lake and when he came out he was dreanched even more from the bitter waters of regret. He didn't give up. He scoured through time looking for something to buy his way back in. Days turned to week and weeks to months and months to years and he brought every flower, silver, gold and even precious stones and they were cast into the lake "we have enough of those" is what the guards would always say. Years past and the boy became a man. He had gradually stopped coming to the gates as he had brought every gift he could from forest and they had been thrown into the lake. He was tired of trying. He had a new resolve he would sit on the bank and wait for the gates to be opened and when it was he would run through. He had nothing again, all were cast into the lake. All except the chair he had managed to steal back. So the man sat there. Through summers and winters he sat but the gates never opened. One summer He was tired, hungry and thirsty, he couldn't drink from regret and time hadn't been kind to him as he had no money left. he decided if the gates didn't open by winter he would kill himself and surely the gates didn't open. Winter came, he took his chair and swam through the freezing waters. Occassionally tasting the foul liquid but it didnt matter to him because it would be the last time in his life that he would have to endure it. He got to the gates. Half frozen he said "All the years I sat opposite you I've never seen you sit," he gave them the chair knowing it wasn't good enough and they broke it. They broke it repeatedly until it was in bits and they set it blaze. It didn't matter, for he was going to die after. So he, without a word began to swim away when one of the guards unlocked the gates and said "You are allowed" "Why?" The man asked "All these years you have rejected me. why have you now decided to allow me back in after rejecting my last gift?" The guards crouched beside the fire and said "We have accepted your last gift. You swam through the freezing lake with no regard for your own safety to bring us wood for fire. That is why we have opened the gates of trust to you again" And as the gates swung open he cried so hard till he could feel his ribs breaking. He saw his parents. They stood with their arms wide open waiting for their boy. © 2020 IsimbabiAuthor's Note
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StatsAuthorIsimbabiNigeriaAboutA collection of the writings that I'd allow anyone see. I don't know if I'm a creative writer or even a good one but I'm going to keep on, because... what could I loose more..Writing
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