Prologue

The prologue to a long forgotten book. This chapter was originally titled Simplicities.

A boy of short standards. That sentence is used to describe most nine year olds here. But not the boy who is sitting beside me, gazing at the road so intently, you'd think it was going to blow up. Every now and then a car would pass and he would mumble another thanks. I had bought him an ice cream when he stated that he had no home. I should just turn him in now. He gazed up at me, past me, and into the sky.

He stood up and motioned for me to follow. I sighed, stood up and followed him to the public park. He stopped at a tree. He grabbed thin air and motioned like he was pulling on something. A rung from a ladder dropped from above me and clonked me on the head. When the stars cleared out of my gaze, I can see a rope ladder leading up into the tree. Cautiously I tested my weight on the ladder. It held me so I scaled it to the floor of an obscured tree house. Unhooking the latch, I crawled through the gap provided. I pulled the boy up and he tied the rope ladder back in place.

He closed the fort door, walked over to a wall and flipped over a tile that had a picture of a bunny on it. The bunny was replaced with a slate of green. He didn't know what that was for but he just went with it. I sat down on the hard, sturdy floor and he sat in a bean bag.

I looked at the tree house and said, “Nice place. Do you..... hang out here a lot?” He nodded his head. “Do you have a family?” I asked. He nodded his head. He motioned to the tiles on the wall and I assumes that it was an attendance sheet of sorts. I wandered around and looked out of the window. The view of leaves and ground was astounding. I looked directly down and saw the grass blowing in the wind.

“Will you help us?” the boy said behind me. I turned to look at him, stunned to see he was already behind me.

“W-what?” I asked.

“Will. You. Help. Us,” he asked again motioning behind him. There was a smaller boy and a girl about his age.

He was about twelvish. The other boy was around nine. The girl was probably eleven.

“Help you with what?” I ask.

“The future,” they all chime.

Author's Note

A failed first chapter. Ignore grammatical errors.