Wisest

We are slaves, taken from our families and stored in the cellar of a basement for those who have won us in an auction. Ever since this new dictator has taken over the United States, the world seems to be filled with smoke and blackness. There are rumors that the other countries will try to rescue us, but no one has come. This cellar is nicer than the one before, maybe because this is the dictator’s home. He has a three sons and one daughter, just like our family. The dictator’s youngest son fell in love with our Ethel. She is thirteen, I’m fourteen, John is fifteen, and Josh is seventeen. Josh was recently released into the world as a general into war.
Once a slave has turned seventeen, they are sent either to war or turn into a housewife. Ethel wasn’t the kind to sit in a house all day and she defiantly won’t have children at the age of seventeen. I on the other hand just want to end this all together, living with the “king” as he wants us to call him. I hate him; yet I still remember what my mother would always say: “Hate is too strong of a word to use towards people.” She scolded me every time I spoke of hating someone. I missed her so much: I missed her warm hugs, her annoying voice, and most of all the smell of flowers she always wore. But ever since that hateful day, the day me and my brothers won the Wisest Person Award.
The day all started when my brothers and I were going to the market, Ethel was very sick and she needed some kind of potion. We lived in a town of witches and goblins, they thought nice towards all the humans. My favorite witch was named Juliana, she was a potion maker and made everyone smile. I used to read books back from the time my grandparents were kids, that was in the late 2000’s. They always described witches to be disgusting, vile creatures. But they were completely wrong, Juliana was beautiful, she was skinny, long blond hair, and ocean blue eyes that sparkled every time she laughed. The moment I saw her I pictured the future: just her and me sitting in the living room lying by the fire place watching the fired devour the wood. Juliana is also my age, but she is worked to the bone every day. In a way she was a slave before the world was brought into slavery.
Once my brothers and I reached the shop, we all noticed something lying on the floor; we walked over to find a man lying unconscious. We looked around for Juliana, but she was nowhere to be found. John was the strongest at the time and picked the man up and carried him bridal style to the back room, where there laid a single cot. Once the man was on the cot, we heard a racket going on behind the wall. We all sighed and knocked on the wall. Juliana appeared exhausted and terrified.
I, being the calm one in the situation, calmly asked what happened. Juliana completely exploded she spoke words so fast that neither of us could understand. The parts we got out of it was: her master, poison, and death. At first I thought that the man lying there on the cot was dead, but actually he was a friend of her master that asked Juliana for a poison to kill a few rats. She disobeyed by giving him sleeping potion since mice were friends with witches. The man was furious and complained to Juliana, she didn’t know what to do, so she did a spell and made the man brain dead.
All of us breathed a sigh of relief when we found out the man wasn’t dead, but him living as a vegetable wasn’t the best idea on her part. We needed to help her, because female witches aren’t suppose to use spells unless, making potions. It’s illegal to use spells towards humans.
We all looked at the man lying on the cot, he was pale, but his chest rose and fell in a steady beat. Juliana explained how the man attacked her, he grabbed her by the neck and pinned her against the wall. Juliana lifted the collar of her dress, showed us the bruises forming on her neck, as if we weren’t going to believe her to begin with.
That’s another thing people got wrong about witches, they don’t dress in long black cloaks, and they dress very normal, mostly wearing dresses and bright colors. Today she was in a bright pink sun dress with white flowers imprinted on it.
After hearing the whole story, Juliana was in tears. Not the normal tears that humans cry, but witches cry green tears. The green residue dripped down her cheek and to her chin. She would franticly wipe away the tears, but more kept coming. I walked over and gave her a hug and assured her everything was going to be alright, but she didn’t believe me. She repeatedly shook her head and that made her sob worse. We all felt pain for Juliana, the last witch that used a spell against a human was silenced. Her grave stone reads “What’s done is done,” that was also the last words she mumbled before she passed.
Then, the idea popped into my head, it’s been about 100 years since the last incident which means the doctors won’t expect a case to come that was caused by a spell. I mentioned this to Juliana, who jumped for joy and hugging me extra hard. I lost my breath and couched, causing me to remember about Ethel, who was lying in bed suffering waiting for us to be back with her medication.
Later in the day, after we dropped the man off at the hospital and Juliana gave us Ethel’s medication. We were all sitting around the fireplace: Ethel who was beginning to feel better, John, Josh, mama, papa, and I, this was a rare moment for our family, everyone together as a family. The moment was ruined when the there was a slight knock on the door and powder pour out from under it. I smiled and walked to the door, knowing who to expect; I was correct. Juliana was standing in the doorway baring bags in her hands. I offered her to come inside and she did.
Standing in front of the whole family, Juliana created giant lights, a stage, and curtain. It all fit in our tiny house, in a magical way. “Family of the Hiltons,” she cheered. “I am proud to present The Wisest Person Award!” everyone in the family clapped, humoring Juliana’s efforts. “Could John, Luke, and Josh Hilton come up to the stage please?” Juliana gestured for all of us to walk up.
Without any hesitation, I stood up and walked to center stage, John and Josh followed quietly. Juliana had a bright smile on her face, just as she was about to hand me the award. Our door is broke down and men in black outfit coming running in and grabs Ethel. Another one runs up on the stage and grabs John, then Josh, and then finally me.
We all struggle to get out of their grasps, but it was impossible. We were thrown in the back of a large truck, they drove for hours. When we finally got to our destination, we were put into a line and people came up to inspect us. Now, the United States is ruled by a dictator and we all live under his command.