“Feet. That’s all you ever see anymore. Feet. Bandaged feet from the mines, bloody feet from the woods, grimy feet from the fields, and of course, the perfectly manicured feet of the government officials. Feet. I’m tired of feet. Every morning, I have to look at the only mirror in our one-roomed home and tell myself this, “ Marina,” I tell myself, “Listen to the government. Accept your feet. Accept that everyone every day in the past, present, and future will always have to look at feet with no protection. Don’t change. Obey the government.” You may be thinking: Marina, what’s wrong with feet? I like my feet. They help me walk, and jump, and play, and work and do all the things that I do every day. I get it. I like feet- but the only thing
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What’s so important about feet? If our ancestors have lived this long without protection then we can too.” Mia tried to say hopefully. I look at her skeptically and stand up to open our front door. Outside was the most hazardous snowy mountain ranges you’ve ever seen. Paper white snow laid beautifully like a blanket over the jagged and rough mountains. Fall has just left us and winter is greeting the mountains like an old unwanted friend, welcoming us with a fresh layer of snow. “It’s quite ironic actually. Living on a snowy mountain. Jagged rocks during the summer and freezing snow during the winter. It’s like even if we tried, we’d never escape.” I say to prove my point. “It’s also pretty risky to talk to them about beating people who try to somehow protect their feet.” Mia truthfully tells me.
She sighs.
“ You’re probably right,” she says as she stands up and walks to her cot,” We should get some sleep. Big day tomorrow.”
I walk over to my cot and kiss the picture of my parents who had died in a fire a year earlier.
“Sure. It’s already really late,” I reply in agreement, “ It can only get better from …show more content…
We started it. Everyone who was beaten or “killed” was actually thrown outside the village grounds. We picked them up and started our own civilization as castaways. We got used to the castaway life and thought it was a good time as any to bring you girls along and start our lives together,” Dad proudly explains,” So, what do you say?”
Mia and I look at each other with huge grins on our faces. This is it. This is what we were waiting for.
I look back at my parents and squeal a little,” That sounds like a dream.”
Over the next couple of minutes we start packing what very little we have with my parents shouting out random comments to the rest of us as they find their old stuff or some of the stuff we’ve recently made. Finally though, we’re ready. Dad opens the cellar door- the dark and damp torchlit secret passage already opened because of my parents’ coming. My dad jumps down and on his feet I see what looks like beautifully crafted cowskin leather with a barkskin net tied around his ankle.
“Oh I almost forgot,” my mom says as she pulls two pairs of the exact same thing my father is wearing on his feet out of her pack,” You’ll need these. We call them
What’s so important about feet? If our ancestors have lived this long without protection then we can too.” Mia tried to say hopefully. I look at her skeptically and stand up to open our front door. Outside was the most hazardous snowy mountain ranges you’ve ever seen. Paper white snow laid beautifully like a blanket over the jagged and rough mountains. Fall has just left us and winter is greeting the mountains like an old unwanted friend, welcoming us with a fresh layer of snow. “It’s quite ironic actually. Living on a snowy mountain. Jagged rocks during the summer and freezing snow during the winter. It’s like even if we tried, we’d never escape.” I say to prove my point. “It’s also pretty risky to talk to them about beating people who try to somehow protect their feet.” Mia truthfully tells me.
She sighs.
“ You’re probably right,” she says as she stands up and walks to her cot,” We should get some sleep. Big day tomorrow.”
I walk over to my cot and kiss the picture of my parents who had died in a fire a year earlier.
“Sure. It’s already really late,” I reply in agreement, “ It can only get better from …show more content…
We started it. Everyone who was beaten or “killed” was actually thrown outside the village grounds. We picked them up and started our own civilization as castaways. We got used to the castaway life and thought it was a good time as any to bring you girls along and start our lives together,” Dad proudly explains,” So, what do you say?”
Mia and I look at each other with huge grins on our faces. This is it. This is what we were waiting for.
I look back at my parents and squeal a little,” That sounds like a dream.”
Over the next couple of minutes we start packing what very little we have with my parents shouting out random comments to the rest of us as they find their old stuff or some of the stuff we’ve recently made. Finally though, we’re ready. Dad opens the cellar door- the dark and damp torchlit secret passage already opened because of my parents’ coming. My dad jumps down and on his feet I see what looks like beautifully crafted cowskin leather with a barkskin net tied around his ankle.
“Oh I almost forgot,” my mom says as she pulls two pairs of the exact same thing my father is wearing on his feet out of her pack,” You’ll need these. We call them