by Isabella Brosi, contributing reporter
Today was the day. Today was the day the prophecy would be fulfilled. Today was the day of doom, today was the day fate planned me to die. I really dreaded this day.
Hi, my name is Jasper Smith. Today is my tenth birthday, (the worst and possibly the last day of my life). This is because of a prophecy that was bestowed upon me when I was born. An evil man came to the hospital; his name was Oatequartz, a man who spoke prophecies.
When he came he laughed an evil laugh, then started talking. His eyes glazed over and he said “ Okka, okka, sino twau, fina, fina, peko ra.” (I know right, what the heck does that mean?) Then, the strange man left.
A year later, scientists figured out that what Oatequartz said was in an ancient language from the country of Sedona. Although now, the country doesn’t exist, Besodia conquered it, but Besodia also died out. What’s crazy is that Oatequartz survived, how, you ask, I will tell you!
Long ago, Oatequartz was a good man, so good that the gods gave him the power of everlasting life on earth, as long as he was good.
A year ago, scientists discovered that what Oatequartz said was in an ancient language, they transferred it to English and figured out what it meant. He said, “Your baby Jasper, he will die, on his tenth birthday, say goodbye. Succeed or fail, survive or perish, only the gods know who will cherish”.
Anyway, today I am going to visit my parents. They are imprisoned, because when I was five my parents couldn’t take the prophecy.
They got sick and went crazy, not being able to talk or move, or do anything, sometimes they would be violent. Not too violent, just once in awhile, they would hit or kick things, or even people. The government decided to keep them imprisoned until they recover, so I am stuck with a foster family.
Right now, my dog Max and I are in our room which is a small space with a bed for each of us, a dresser, Max’s food and toys, and my toys. We don’t have much, but it is all we could take. Max and I, we like our room, our house, even our foster family, it’s just, we miss our own.
“Jasper, come on, you’re leaving,” my foster mom Lizzie called from the bottom of the stairs.
“Ok,” I said, “I will be down in a minute.” The social worker from the orphanage was coming to pick me up. “Come on Max,” I said, “time to go see Mom and Dad.”
I said goodbye to my foster mom and dad, then got in the car. Max and I hopped in the back seat, as Mr.Buckley greeted us welcomingly. I said a half-hearted hello. I was not in the best mood, being about to die and all. Mr.Buckley then informed me that we would arrive at prison in a hour.
“Okay,” I said, then I mumbled something like: I wonder how I will die today.
“Excuse me,” Mr.Buckley questioned, having have heard.
“Huh, oh nothing,” I replied quickly.
We sat the rest of the ride in silence. I kept thinking: will we get into a car accident, will I fall, what? I am going to die, somehow. Unless, maybe I can prevent it….
Featured image attribution to Enokson on Flickr.
