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Escape!
Author's note:
I have lived in New York City my whole life. I live with my mom, dad, and my older brother. My hobby is to play soccer. I also like to follow soccer just as much as a fan. I play for DUSC travel team aka (Downtown United Soccer Club).
It is 340 B.C and I had not been taken yet from anyone. I was an innocent 4 year old and times in Cairo were very busy, with people coming and going from work or even just coming from their daily prayer, something I did not do, mostly because I was a 4 year old and who has ever seen a 4 year old in church without their parents? People using camels and llamas as their source of transportation, with the heat constantly being a big factor and humidity basically every day. I used to wonder what it would be like to have parents that actually cared for you instead of just feeling jealous every time I saw a family together in their little house. Sadly, when I was born my parents didn’t want me so they gave me up, which is why I don’t have a family to this day.
Since I was born I have always had a natural talent of building, and I mean building good houses. Well, maybe not houses but at least something like a hut that I would be able to actually live in. I know my parents would’ve noticed that talent as well.
“When I can’t be pharoah any more I’m going to need an heir to replace me” my dad yelled with anger.
“What if I don’t want to do become a pharaoh and instead I want to become a merchant or a priest, or even just a good old farmer?” I could tell that my dad wasn’t taking this news very lightly but I was only a kid so there was no way he would lash out at me.
“Kamu I do really understand your decision to not want to be pharoah now but if I don’t have an heir to replace me, that will eventually cause problems politically in Cairo and no one wants that to happen, do they?”
I thought about this prospect for a second and realized that he had a valid point but at the same time so did I. I was never the type of guy to become a leader even if my people needed it. I could tell that sounded very disloyal to Cairo but then again I actually have a future ahead of me so that was my argument.
Unlike most kids in Cairo I actually got an education as a young boy. All my life I have wanted to become a philosopher. I mean it just seems like a job that’s so easy or at least in my eyes.
Let me tell you what I think a philosopher is.
A wise guy that acts like he knows it all.
Check! I’m already pretty smart and I think I’ll be good at acting really smart.
A guy who likes to constantly ask questions to just make people think real hard.
Check! I already know a lot so I could just ask people not as smart as me, “Why?”
As times passed by, things in Egypt started to get a bit crazy. Egypt was going through a political crisis. No one was very happy about the appointment of Cleopatra as she was extremely gullible and I’m not exaggerating. I was only 10 and I had not experienced any real troubles before in my life. I could see the people in Cairo were definitely planning to pack all their things and leave. The problem was there was no leaving Egypt. I mean if you left you and your family would have no chance of surviving because in our age no foreigners are welcome. I mean has anyone ever heard about the brothers Romulus and Remus? They were kicked out and put into the river all alone. So what I’m trying to say is that if those people are trying to leave they’re going to end up stranded.
“Run, Run!” the people yelled.
The Greeks had finally arrived and everyone was fleeing, I mean everyone. As I looked outside my window I could see the madness in the streets really starting to kick off now. I know I need to leave now or else I will be caught. I couldn’t stop thinking about where I would go next after Cairo. If I thought about it there was really no place I could go afterward, and I’ve got no family or friends to guide me either. I look behind me and I could now see bodies left behind. One by one face down. I started to wonder whose family member had just been taken from them. The Greeks had a scary look to them. I hated their uniforms that they wore in battle and I now hate them even more for coming to Egypt. If I had any chance of surviving I needed someone with me. Because the truth was, I didn't have the brains to actually be able to survive all alone. I look around and all I could see is dead, dead, dead, and oh! human. He was hiding behind a short brick wall, at least tall enough for me and him to hide behind. He finally turned around and noticed me with shock, ‘cause there was actually another person still alive.
“My name is Bast, my family has been killed by the Greeks.”
“Oh, sorry about that.”
“It’s fine.”
You could tell that it really wasn’t fine, but I didn’t want to say any thing as that would probably rub the salt in the wound.
“My name is Mo. Short for Mohammad.”
He only nodded probably still thinking about his parents’ death. We both slowly peeked over the wall, watching out for the Greeks. As we both knew the Greeks were probably just looking for us by now.
Suddenly as the wind got more intense we could now hear footsteps of the soldiers. Getting closer and closer and closer until they were here. As we look to our left we could see that the soldiers have already started to throw their spears at us.
“Bast, run!”
While I started to run away I realized something. Bast wasn’t there! As I slowly look back I can now see that Bast couldn’t make it far enough. Even though I really want to help him, there was really no going back now.
It had been a few minutes of running, before I suddenly stopped at a point and I found a place to finally hide. It was this huge but dark cave. Seemed like something a caveman would live in back in the caveman times. Suddenly I hear something from the dark end of the cave. I was hoping it wasn’t a Greek because then I was as good as dead, but obviously that wouldn’t be the case in this situation. As the man started to approach me still in the dark, he made this groaning sound as if he had just been stabbed or something. The man finally came out and my eyes immediately popped out. The man was . . . a kid.
It was an unusual morning in Egypt or as I may also say, an urgent one. Just as my dad said a few years ago, Egypt would be in crisis if I didn’t become his heir and so it did. If you didn’t for some reason know already, the Greeks had started their invasion of all parts of Egypt and today they were coming over to Cairo.
“Ok are you done packing up your things Kamu?” That’s what my parents have called me since I was born. While you might assume that this actually has a meaning to it, let me tell you that it doesn’t.
“Give me a sec.”
“Fine, but be quick.”
I hadn’t been packing at all yet so to not make my parents low-key angry, I quickly packed up the things I knew I needed and then also the things I didn’t really need but just wanted because why not? The house looked pretty empty once we left it. Although the house never had too much in it so having it completely empty didn’t make it that strange-looking. Once we got out of the house all I could see was havoc. I mean people were running in the streets like mad men. People getting knocked down on the ground by soldiers and families screaming constantly in either fright or injury. The only thing that I’m thinking is that hopefully and I mean hopefully the Greeks don’t take us. The Greeks were literally everywhere. Any second now we would be getting taken . . . and that’s what happened.
“No, no take us all...please!” I couldn’t stop yelling at these soldiers. I mean you can’t really blame me because they have just taken my mom and dad which is basically all I really have. I could tell that my parents knew there was no good in yelling, which is probably why they weren’t yelling at the soldiers. I could feel the heat and humidity really making life just feel absolutely dreadful. The soldiers weren’t talking much but I could tell they had a certain place they were planning to take me to. We finally made it to the destination and already I could see that there were other kids here before me and they didn’t seem like they were having a good time at all. The two men who brought me here left and now I was left with a bunch of injured kids and these two tall men, holding what looked like a whip. One of the soldiers had a brown ponytail with a perfectly trimmed goatee. He was shorter than the man he was standing next too. The man that he was standing next too had long hair and what looked like a scar across his cheek. Unlike the other soldier this man seemed to be strangely tall. The man finally signaled for me to come over to where he was standing.
Was he going to kill me?
Was I going to end up like the other kids on the floor?
Was I going to be used by the Greeks for some reason?
Those were all the questions going through my head at that time. Even though I’m not the fastest, running was still one of my only options to ESCAPE. Immediately I sprint my fastest, heading to what looks to me like some sort of cave. The tall man with the scar on his cheek started running after me with fire in his eyes. As I started to get closer to the cave, the man was closing the gap too. I could now feel the tip of the whip now skimming my heels. While I knew that if I ran at this rate for a bit longer I was as good as dead. So instead I quickly made a turn to the right. I look back at the man and I could tell that there is no way that the man is finding me again. As I look down at my leg I could tell that the man has managed to slightly nick me. As I think about the injury being there it starts to hurt a lot more.
“It stings.”
“It stings.”
Out of all the things I have brought for my “need category” for some odd reason I didn’t bring any sort of medical resources for my leg to stop the blood from coming out. I take a seat and try to start wiping off all the blood from my leg. As the yelling went on, something that got me up were these footsteps coming from outside. The dark shadow started to get closer and closer and closer. Then we finally made eye contact. To my surprise it wasn’t actually a soldier. It was a boy just like me. He, like most kids in Egypt, didn’t have any hair. He seemed to be a bit shorter than I was but not by a lot. As time passed by all we did was stare and stare and stare. His name was Mo. And unlike most kids, he survived. Like me.
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