Garnet's Mesopotamia Story

    “Come on, Kammani! Fetch some water for me, will you?”

“Alright, Mother,” said Kammani as she rushed down to the river.

Iltani watched her daughter run down to the river, wishing she was a male, knowing she was on the brink of death. Iltani was furious for her husband for treating her like this.

It is a known fact that women do work for their husband, and are not to resist. For if your husband accuses you, there is very little chance that the wife will win if it is taken to court.

But Iltani’s husband was doing much worse than using her to do his work. He was starving her and her child Kammani.

Iltani thought that she might be able to win if she took it to court. He was starving her! He is starving me, she thought.

If she didn’t take it to court she could die of hunger, but if she did she could be thrown into a fire, or a river, or - even worse - get her leg cut off. Now I am really stuck, she thought. But she know there was only one way she could have any chance to keep her life. It’s either starve to death, or take it to  court.

Even though she knew either one would probably get her killed, there was only one that didn’t garuntee death. I will at least try to knock some since into him first, she decided.

Iltani turned her head as she heard a scream from the direction of the river. It was Kammani. Iltani ran to the river as fast as she could, tripping on reeds along the way. She fell and half rolled, half slid the rest of the way. She could barely stop herself from falling in the river.

Finally she stood up, dizzy and bleeding from a cut on the top of her head. Once she was able to focus her eyes on things, she noticed a splayed out, soaked, crying shape by the riverbed.

As Iltani stumbled closer, she dreaded that Kammani had fallen into the river. She tripped again and slid the rest of the way to Kammani.

“Kammani!” she screamed, as loud as her shaky voice could. Iltani shook her, much harder than you should do to a damaged person, and screamed her name again.

“Mother,” Kammani replied in a shaky voice. “What happened to you?”

“What happened to me!” Iltani said, astounded. “What happened to you?”

“I tripped, and the water in my bucket spilled on me. I feel too bad to get up.”

Iltani noticed how frail her daughter was, how she was uncontrollably shivering in the end of summer.

She doesn’t have enough fat in her body for her to stay warm, even when the weather is, she thought. I must change this.

Later that night when Kammani was dry, but was still shivering from time to time, and Iltani was preparing dinner, she decided to warn her husband what she was going to do.

“Hammun-Dak, come here," she called. A few moments later he appeared in the kitchen.

“What?” he said. Iltani paused, stirring her soup.

“I have something I need to tell you." Her husband looked at her questioningly. “I am going to go to court and ask to divorce you, on the act you have been starving me and my child.”

Hammun-Dak’s jaw dropped and a shocked look took his face. Then it was replaced by a very cold anger, and he looked as if he was going to fight Iltani. Instead, his face turned threatening and he said in a voice that sounded as evil as the gods Egypt believed in, “You know that is very dangerous."

Iltani was about to reply, but he cut her off. “I am a great man and you are nothing but a peasant woman! I will win if you take this to court! You will be thrown into the river! This will kill you and you know that. I know you are not serious, you are just trying to make me give your child a soft life. I won’t, and that is that!” He looked at Iltani, waiting for her reaction.

“I know,” she said solemnly. “I am going to court tomorrow morning, with Kammani. I shall pack our things and go.”

Hammun-Dak now knew this was not a threat. If Iltani lied to him like that, she would be punished by death. “No, you shall not,” he said. “I know a friend that is in need of a slave. According to law, I am allowed to sell you and your child to him. I am also in need of money for food. You do not need to take this to court because it is already determined by law. I shall go talk to my friend and settle the price. You will work for him for three years and then regain your freedom.”

Then he walked out the door, leaving Iltani and Kammani alone. Iltani sank to the ground, weeping. She had failed her and her child. Because of her actions, Kammani would suffer. Her poor eight year old daughter was going to be a slave for the next three years of her life. Possibly more if Hammun-Dak could convince the court.

Kammani was going to live the point in her life when she realized important things about the world and decided what she wanted to do with her life as a slave.

She would probably know nothing but that when she regained her freedom.

Two years later, there was only one year until Iltani and Kammani regained their freedom. Iltani had reminded Kammani every day what freedom was like.

For the first year or so, Kammani had cried every night before she went to bed. As time passed she never forgot what her life used to be like, but started to dream of what her life would be like after the three years.

When she regained her freedom she would be free of two curses, Hammun-Dak and slavery. She would enter a new life. A life she had never had before. A luxury only granted to few.

But as Kammani gained strength, Iltani seemed to lose more and more. Soon it was Kammani reminding Iltani what freedom was like, but there was nothing she could do. Iltani was crumbling into a drepression no words could heal. She would stare at nothing all day, and forced all her energy into eating for Kammani.

Their owner, who they called master, was angered, but Kammani promised to work twice as hard and do all of Iltani’s jobs, which she did very well, until Master was satisfied.

Soon the day came, when Iltani’s job in life was done. She had come into a state where she couldn’t eat or drink anymore. When she took her last breath Kammani screamed and cried, but knew that if she didn’t obey Master, she wouldn’t get her chance to avenge her mom’s death, if any.

She worked harder than ever until her last day as a slave came. Then she was free from all curses faced in the past, ready for new to come upon her. But she knew life would not be all happy and cheery now, it would probably be harder than ever.

She had nowhere to go, no food to eat, and nobody to talk to. She thought she had been alone the last few months, but now she was truly on her own. Kammani hadn’t relized it but she had actually grown a small liking to Master, and Master liked her. She felt a small gratitude for him filling her belly as Hammun-Dak had never done.

He was like a second father to her. Maybe not a second father but a sort of uncle. They had a sort of love, hate relationship.

As with her father, which she refused to ever call by the name “Father”, their relationship was based purely off of hate.

After days past living on her own, Kammani’s stomach shrunk, but she would drink the water from the river. Every now and then she would find a under-ripe pomagranite in an abandoned orchard she had found, overgrown with weeds, but never anything more than a few bites. Still she found it better than living as a slave.

One night sleeping under a weed and reed blanket she had made, that was actually quite warm, in the abandoned orchared she heard footsteps awakening her from her slumber. She had seen people around before, but stayed a reasonable distance away from the city.

She sat up and put her hands up in a sign of peace, because if she didn’t she could be accused of hiding from something or someone that she stole from, and she wasn’t ready to be a slave again.

The footsteps came closer, and soon a dark figure came into view. As the figure came closer she saw that it was a young male, probably five years older than she was.

“Hello?” he asked. “Who are you?”

“I am Kammani,” she replied. “I am ten years old, without a home, and will not bother you, and do not wish to be bothered with.”

“Why are you here?” he asked cautiously.

“This is where I’ve been sleeping,” Kammani said steadily. “If this is your property, I will move immediatly.”

“This isn’t my property,” the man said. “But I do like coming here a lot. You look cold; would you like to come to my house for tea?”

Kammani knew she shouldn’t, but couldn’t resist the thought of warmth and tea.

“Alright,” she said cautiously. She stood up, gathered her few belongings, and followed the man into the city. She was scared, and when she tripped and he offered her a hand, she didn’t resist.

Once they were there, Kammani realized this wasn’t a house but a mansion. “Oh,” she gasped. Going here would be the most dangerous thing she could do right now.

Had she made a mistake? Been lured into a trap? She didn’t know what to do. If she turned to run she could be called a thief, but if she didn’t - what?

Once they were inside the man ordered some tea from a slave, walked over to a table, and pulled out a chair.

Kammani flinched at the sight of a slave, but sat down in the chair calmly. The man, who she realized was now a boy roughly her age, told her his name was Damion.

He said that when he couldn’t sleep he liked to take walks in the orchard, and had been looking for some company who wouldn’t grovel to him for being a prince.

As soon as Kammani found out he was a prince she said, “Oh my, I am so sorry, Your Highness, for not treating you with more respect!”

“No don’t grovel,” he said dismissively. “That’s what I liked you for.”

“Alright,” she said. She drank her tea, and after they talked a little longer he offered her a place to sleep. Of course she said yes, though she was still reluctant to know a person so close to the court, something that was not her favorite subject.

Gradually the two got to know each other better and became friends. He always let her have a place to sleep, and eventually Kammani felt comfortable enough to go into town. After a year Damion asked if they wanted to be in a more serious relationship and Kammani said yes.

She had finally found a place in her life where she could be happy, something she never had before. She was still a woman, and being in a relationship with Damion meant work, but not as before.

After two more years, she decided to share her past with Damion, a very risky thing, but something she had to get off her shoulders. Damion was enraged for what her father had done to her and went to court, accusing him of starving a child.

Kammani was terrified, but of course Damion won and Humman-Dak was to be thrown in the river. Kammani was happy to see her father never resurface from the water.

Kammani knew that she had a very dark past and used to be going in the direction of a very dark future. What happened to her was extremely unlucky, and she knew she had to be extremely grateful.

One day she got married to Damion and had a child. They weren’t to become king and queen, because Damion had an older brother.

Kammani knew she should have been dead by now, and that only the worst of the worst had brought her the best of the best. There was one thing she reminded her child every day. It was that even though life may bring the worst things upon you, never give up on it. There is always something good in bad and bad in good. This was something she knew in all her heart,but found hard to pass to others. Something she did do, though, was ensure her child never had to go through the pain she did.

Rodrigo's Egypt Story

There was once a great battle between the Egyptians and the Nubians. The Nubians were outnumbering the Egyptians by a lot, but the Egyptians were defeating them with skill. After the great war, the few Egyptians that were left grieved over their loved ones, and started to bury the dead  bodies.

********

17 Years later...

One day, a clear blue sky, the nile waters shining when suddenly... In a flash of blue light; the earth shaking; the blue vibrating so fast, came a man. A man who was an engineer from the year 4679. “YES YES YES!!!! MY TIME MACHINE WORKED!!! YE--..”

“ Who is the man in the strange clothes?” said a young curious girl.”Why is he not wearing the traditional garments made of cotton? and the black sandals are not like sandals, they cover the whole foot. This man is strange. why is he here? where is his reed boat?

“I do not know.” Said an Egyptian man

“Um excuse me.. WHERE THE ^#$@ AM I?!?!?!” Said the man

“What is @$$%#?” Said the curious girl

“I do not know. Silence.” Said the Egyptian man

“Um, I’m from the netherlands.”Said the man

“What is netherlands?” said the girl

“I said SILENCE!” Said the egyptian man

“My name is Patrick Doby” said the man “Hold on.” said Patrick. He put on a fake mustache, and said “There we go!”

“How do you suddenly speak native tongue?”Said the egyptian man

“two words, translator moustache” Said Patrick.

“Oh we take you to pharaoh and see what he say!”

“Okay..” said Patrick

AT THE PHARAOH’s HOUSE...

“What brings you here today, Arnold?” said the pharaoh

“I bring strange man to you!” Said the egyptian man
    “Thank you arnold. You are dismissed” said the pharaoh “well well well what have we here?”

“I am Patrick Doby of the netherlands.”

“Well patrick, we have a good spot for you. You will be Slave Patrick.”

“Wait!!”

“What?

“I can make your temples better. I can make you not need to waste the lives of men so that they are enslaved. You can make the world right.”

How, by chance would you do that?”

“like this.” He put a blue sheet of neon and a giant blue, neon crusted black crane came and landed in the closest free space, which was outside of the palace.

“What did you just do, Slave Patrick?

“Look outside, good man.”

“Why shoul- OH MY GOODNESS!! WHAT DID YOU JUST PUT IN MY VAXACST (egyptian word for yard)

“Please forgive me good sire, but that is a crane.”

“What do you mean Slave Patrick?”

“I mean that a crane, in my age, is not a bird, but a big machine that runs on air, and it picks up heavy objects (1120000000 ton limit) and puts them where you want it to. It is controlled by brainwaves. By that I mean think of what you want it to do and it will do it.”

“Yeah right.”

“Yes, that is right”

“Quiet Slave Patrick. I shall test your theory, Slave.”

“O-- nevermind”

    “Oh my goodness OH MY GOODNESS!!!!!!!!! IT WORKS!!” said the pharaoh as the crane lifted the palace to 100 feet and dropped it, stopping it at one foot from  the ground
    “Am I still a slave?
    “No, but only because your machine worked.”  And then, dawned a great friendship.

1 month later :

    “Oh good sire patrick, please report to the front of the palace immediately.” Said the pharaoh. As patric came racing down the stairs, two at a time he yelled back down:
    “Has it arrived?!?”
    “Yes Patrick. It has arrived. The letter from your people has arrived!” Patrick was electric with excitement as he raced down the steps, now 3 at a time he arrived at the bottom floor of the palace with a thud, and he raced through the hole(which
was the doorway) out of his bedroom, a large chamber filled with hieroglyphs, it had a large four poster bed made of the best quality hay, one that repels bed bugs, dust mites, and other parasites that live in beds. He rushed to the pharaoh, and quickly swiped the package from his hands, and tore the wrapping, throwing it to the side into his papep, a machine that compressed things, and ejected them when you needed or wanted it. He swiftly put the paper into an eater, a slang word in the future for “Reader” which was just a machine that displayed whatever the thing was onto a large hi-def screen.


TO BE CONTINUED

How To Build An Ancient Civilization

How To Build An Ancient Civilization

by Gilgamesh, Hammurabi, Sargon and Ashurbanipal

Hello, Hammurabi here. Actually all of our names-all four of us really hard to spell, especially because it’s hieroglyphs. So Sargon will be referred to as Gon, I will be called Ham, Gilgamesh is Gill, and Ashurbanipal will be called Pal. If you are a slave and any one of us is still alive, GIVE US THE BOOK NOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! If you are reading this to multiple people and know the ending, no spoilers! blah blah blah blah blah blah slave blah law blah. Now if you are a curious person with a knack of farming and getting into trouble, continue reading. The safe word is flaming top hat.

What  is the safe word?

...

You really don’t know?

..........................z.z...zzzzzzzzzz

huh? You’re still here? OK I’ll let you read.

My name is Hethope. I don’t have much time. First off, these tablets have nothing to do with building an ancient civilization. I used that first little thing to try to bore you to death. Where to start..... I suppose I’ll tell you the whole story.  It all started when I born. My father and mother were pretty good people. They both they had two weird habits. First of all, I was never allowed outside. I had a tutor come daily to teach me everything. Second of all, they both were obsessed with crystals. To a degree of insanity. Their dream was to demolish the house, hire hundreds of slaves, and get them to rebuild the house. Using only crystals. So anyway the first ten years of my life were pretty fine, just going to rituals and other stuff. But when I was 11, my parents gave my tutor a hat for his birthday. Now, to be fair, it was expensive, and fashionable. But my parent’s obsession with crystals and their ideas about gift design had crossed. Which is why my tutor was surprised when he got a crystal hat. He put it on, tested it out, and thanked my parents for the gift. He left the house (as he was just finished teaching me) and took off on the long journey to climb the hill that separated his house from ours. But as he just got on the of top the hill, Zap! a crisp. I always thought lightning could only zap trees. I guess I was wrong.

A couple of months later, I was walking up the hill, and as I reached the top, I saw that same crystal hat sitting on a pile of ash. This is the wrong time to say it, but i have to describe my parents at some point. My dad is bald, wears flax robes, and is very old. He’s 45!!!! My mother is 25 years old and wears flax as well. I picked up the crystal hat, dusted it off, and put it on in memory of my beloved tutor. Then, I heard a voice. No, I’m not insane. The first thing it said was “H-hello?” A million thoughts popped into head, and brain tried to say them all at once, so I said “wdh arp rgwfd thyjg!” To which the hat responded, “Pardon me, I have no idea what you are saying. I have to go. I apologize.”

“Wait!”
“What? Do you have a problem? Tell me your coordinates.”
“Problem? I’m alive.”
“Are you lost?”
“No. Who are you?”
“The 911 response team. Do you have an emergency?”
“911? Who are you?”
“We help you if you have an emergency.”
“Why are you in a hat?”
“Prank callers are not allowed.”
“What’s a prank caller?”
“I have to hang up.”
The monotone voice was replaced with a buzz. “Hello?”
“Harry! I’m in labor!”
“What?”
“Who ARE YOU?!?!?!”
“Hethope.”
“Goodbye, Hethope!”
Another buzz.
“Kids, is your refrigerator running? Better go catch it!”
“What?!”
Yet another buzz.
“Hello? What’s the safe word? Hint: It’s flaming top hat.”
“Flaming top hat?”
“Yes... My plan is coming together...I will travel through time using crystals. So what if I ruin history by creating a gap in my time with every other time?--at least I’ll get to see some dinosaurs.”
“What happens if you ruin history is that you will no longer exist.”
“That was a rhetorical question.”
“How are you in a hat?”
“What do you mean--how am I in a hat?”
“I’m currently wearing a hat and you appear to be speaking to me through it.”
“Is the hat crystal perchance?”
“What do you think? I’m talking to you through a headdress?”
“No. I think you’re talking to me through a crystal hat.”
“Another excellent example of a rhetorical question.”
“So what do you think happened?”
“I think that my tutor was wearing this hat, he was zapped by lightning, and it’s extremely stupid for me to be wearing this hat. For one thing, it’s extremely heavy, as it is made out of crystal.”
“It’s made out of crystal?”
“I believe we’ve been through this before.”
“Just say yes or no.”
“Well, I hinted that it was crystal, and then I felt sorry for you and came right out and directly said that it was crystal, so I’ll leave it up to you to decide, my Dear Hammurabi.”
“So you’re saying yes.”
“YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
“Well, I’m not 100% sure. I did send a monkey in. Wait. I’m going through.”
“What are you going thr-”
“WHHHHHHHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!”
“Ow! My head!”

I stopped talking, mainly because a boot had landed on my head. The scientist had gone through his time machine, the portal of which apparently ended inside of my hat. I took the hat off and he jumped out. Very unpleasant.

“By Jove, I think I’ve done it!”
“Who’s Jove?”
“It’s just a phrase. Don’t worry about that. I can’t believe I’m here. Look at you! You’re--you’re.... Well, I don’t know how to say this, but you are fabulously prehistoric!”
“Who are you, you name calling, head-stomping, strangely dressed man?”
“My name is Will. And yours?”
“Some call me...Heth.”

We had a wonderful conversation, at the end of which I realized that since he was smart enough to build a time machine then he could probably make some other inventions and potentially give us a huge amount of gold. We went to the city and told the king of Will’s humungous knowledge of many things, and the king instantly rejected him.
I was upset. Since everything was changing I decided to go where the fertile land was and Will would think of some invention that would allow me to farm way faster so we be all right. I got Will to start building a house and as he was building he was telling me how to farm.
“You put your right foot in you put your right foot out,
You put your right foot in and you shake it all about----.”
Oops. Wrong conversation. We were talking about early human culture as well. After he told me how to do it all, it was pretty easy, except since he was pretty busy building the house, I had to use whatever objects I could find lying around. I tilled the ground with a stick-- well, more of a twig. I then found some pig poop. It was digusting process but I managed to fertilize the whole area without also fertilizing it with my own vomit. Then I repeatedly stabbed the ground with my stick to make holes for the seeds. Then I found a sunflower and planted the seeds in the holes I had made. I found a pond nearby and using Will’s boot as a container I watered the seeds.
Will and I settled back into the house that he had made and I created a spear out of the stick I had been using for farming. We had previously agreed that Will would do all the hunting and I would do the farming and gathering. Will had caught a rabbit and killed it. We collected a bunch of sticks and leaves and hit two rocks together repeatedly until we got a spark then finally we had a fire. We roasted the rabbit over the fire and ate it then we slept poorly in the house that Will built with no beds.
The next day we found a bunch of straw and made beds (Hallelujah!). We found some berries and Will ate them first to make sure they weren’t poisonous. He started foaming at the mouth and making odd gestures with his hands. I decided not to have any berries. I discovered later the berries were not poisonous or harmful; just foamy. It seems Will had choked on one. At the time it was happening it looked as though he was going crazy. I did what any smart person would do and whacked him on the head with a stick. Will did not seem to appreciate my help and tried to take the stick away. I thought he wanted to whack me so I thought it best to whack him repeatedly in the head with a stick. He passed out after a while and many hits later.
Since Will was unconscious I had to do the hunting. I found a deer and tempted it with berries. As it got closer I stabbed it with a spear. It was surprisingly hard to drag back. I felt a pang of guilt every time I had to pull it forward. I then found some more straw, made a pile of it, and put the deer on it and then, using the two rocks, set fire to the straw. The one problem to my plan was that I had to wait until all the fire had died out until I could eat it. Will woke up around the fire died, instinctively found the stick, and hit me repeatedly with it. Ouch.
I woke up in a small fragile wooden cage with Will glaring at me and the spear beside him. We stared at each other for a while. He asked me why I had hit him so many times with the stick and I said there were two reasons: First, I told him it was extremely hard to knock him out and therefore required many hits. Second, I said he was foaming at the mouth and making gestures which made me think the berries were very dangerous. He agreed those were reasonable reasons but he should be able to carry the spear from now on.
We continued to survive for the next three months but then winter came and we were starving. We realized we needed to move back to the city in order to survive. We met with the king and he thought the property we had built was beautiful and he bought it from us. We lived off that money for two years. But as time passed we had less and less money. One day we were officially bankrupt but I had the brilliant idea to sell the crystal hat. Because we had done nothing for two years we were not in peak physical condition. It took five hours to climb the hill. As I reached for the crystal hat I realized that Will coming into my time would ruin the entire time space continuum. I told Will this and apparently the crystal hat heard as well. Then boom there went the space time continuum.

Katrin's Egypt Story

Peeking around the corner of the royal palace, Eboni watched the men yanking huge blocks of sand-colored stone and yelling. It looked like utter chaos. Construction was going at a slower pace than usual, and as she watched, a young boy fell over from his post at tugging the rope. He looked like he was 14, around Eboni’s age. He lay still on the ground, probably suffering from slight heat stroke. She grinned. He would probably be taken to the hospital, but at least he provided a distraction. The palace guards ran over to him, and called out for a stretcher. While they were doing this, Eboni darted to the entrance, as quickly and slyly as she could manage. If not the guards, the working men could see her and tell. As she sprinted, she looked to make sure nobody saw her. No one did.

 

Once inside, she breathed a sigh of relief. She poked her head outside the wide and fancy door. The boy was being carried away by the guards. Secretly happy that he was being taken care of, she silently sneaked through corridors, she tried to remember the way around. It was a big and complicated palace. Eboni remembered the time she had to stalk what seemed to be a staff member through the halls because she was so lost and confused. She continued walking, and finally reached her destination: the royal kitchen. Cooks and servants ran around here, a little like the chaos of the construction outside. Due to this, nabbing some dinner and a ration for the next few days was made easy. Slipping through the crowds, she grabbed whatever she pleased: flat, round barley cakes; sweet and crunchy figs; some tender roasted duck; the biggest, juiciest gazelle leg she could find; seedy red pomegranates; and even a jug of very clear beer. All of this she stuffed into her much worn sack, and got out before anyone noticed her. Nearing the door, Eboni looked around. All of the servants seemed to be preoccupied. As she turned the corner, a fast moving something slammed into her and knocked her onto the floor. It was a young boy. So much for quietly, thought Eboni as she checked her bag, which had landed on her stomach. The food was fine, as was the clay jug with the beer in it. Now for the thing that had crashed into her. As she lifted her head to give it a withering stare, she found the sheepish-looking boy gazing at her. He looked to be around seven. Eboni gave up her stare and started to get up, exasperated. The boy started asking the head cook about getting some water for the other boy, the one who had suffered from the heat stroke. The head cook started fussing about and calling for jugs of water. The collapsed boy’s symptoms sounded bad, and so as Eboni walked out into the hall, she hid in the shadows.

 

While she was waiting for the younger boy, Eboni took the time to count her food and do something about the braids that had fallen in her face after the fall. They were being very uncooperative, and her tan arms soon got tired and flopped down at her sides. She counted her food again, and took inventory of the rest of her bag. She had her linen towel, her small knife, and many leafy plants. Oh, and a ribbon. She used this to tie back the peevish braids. She waited, and eventually, the little boy escaped from the head cook and sprinted back down the hall. Eboni followed him silently, and they soon made their way to open skies. The boy was obviously more at comfort, but Eboni did not have the advantage of shadowy corners, which made her a little nervous. They made their way to a small tent, the boy obviously proud of himself, Eboni creeping silently behind. As they entered, Eboni started breathing through her mouth. She knew that it always smelled like sweat in these tents, but the little boy obviously had forgotten or was not paying attention. He sneezed and turned paler. Eboni fought back a laugh. She soon spotted the other boy. He looked a little white, but he was recovering. She focused her gaze on him and decided what to do. All of the medics were busy with other patients, so she approached the little boy. “If you pour water and crush a little bit of this on a towel,” she whispered, handing him a few leaves, “he will feel better.” The little boy nodded, making sure to not breathe in through his nose, and Eboni turned to leave.

 

As she approached the exit, she heard a shout. “Eh! Girl! What are you doing here?! Get out of this tent!” Eboni didn’t turn to see who had yelled, but instead started running.

 

A medic was close at her heels. Eboni kept running, although she was almost out of breath. Turning a corner, she thought she was done for. She couldn’t run another the step. As she heard the medic coming up behind her, she saw a group of shady-looking people in an alley. They were all men, and each was holding at least one bottle of wine or beer. They were muttering amongst themselves, and eyeing the disturbance. Eboni saw one draw out a sharp and curved knife. She ran straight towards them, knowing it was this or the medic. Either way, she was just about dead. The medic stopped in his tracks, turned around, and ran in the other direction. He didn’t want to make trouble with these people. They had already begun muttering and shuffling towards her. Eboni slowed down and gripped the handle of her knife. Much good it will do for me, she thought bitterly. The small cluster approached her slowly, obviously drunk.

 

“Hello, sweetheart”, said one, getting closer to her.

 

“Why is your hair a mess?” asked another.

 

Ai, those braids.

 

A third came over laughing with two cases of wine. The rest were looking their way.

 

The men offered her one, but Eboni politely refused it, edging backwards.

 

“Say, what are you doing around here this late, little girl?” asked the first one, shuffling closer to her.

 

“I was just about to go home”, Eboni said loudly, making it clear that she was. “I was just catching my breath.”

 

This time the third spoke. He stopped laughing and his face took on a look that made him look like a hippo. He also started walking towards her. “Are you lost?”

 

“No, I am not”, Eboni practically shouted. She started walking backwards.

 

“Oh, so you are a tomb robber, are you? Is that what you have in your bag?” asked one, coming up from behind and almost snatching her precious food. They were trying to surround her.

 

Eboni ran before she could answer. The men looked on the brink of chasing after her, but just stood there looking like fools.

 

               Eboni ran until the outskirts of the city, where she went into her alley. It could sometimes be dangerous at night, but Eboni had found a peaceful area. She settled onto her small mat, opening her bag as she went. She pulled out the duck and bit into it. Even cold it was delicious. “Amasis, get your lousy, flea ridden behind here this instant!” Eboni called out. Almost immediately, a large white cat appeared from behind some camel dung. He trotted over to Eboni, and rubbed his head against her hand. She stroked him, and with her other hand she gave him a chunk of the gazelle and poured some beer on the uneven ground. He drank and ate, and soon staggered onto Eboni’s lap, drunk. She laughed, and her thoughts went to the men she had just escaped from. They had thought she was a tomb robber. Did she look like one? No, she would be rich if she was. She would be rich. With money. She was so poor, she lived off of stolen food and in an alley. She could hardly support herself, and she had also taken Amasis in. If she robbed the pyramid she could have a proper home, eat proper meals, have proper hair (those braids!); she would live well; and it couldn’t be hard to just stroll into a tomb and take a few jewels. After that, it would be easy; she would go to the nearest black market, sell her things, and get out of the place. Then she could live the comfortable life that the rich did. She would probably help the homeless, too. If she was to go and rob a tomb, even though she wasn’t a real tomb robber, the time was now. She was going to do it. With that, she stood up and Amasis tumbled out of her lap with an indignant yowl. Eboni took some bites of the gazelle, ate a barley cake, and emptied her dirty knapsack. She strutted off, leaving her cat and her home behind, if only for the time being.

              Reaching the pyramid took no time at all. She was there before she knew it, and had hardly broken a sweat. As she edged closer, she realized that although it had been easy to find, it would be hard to enter. It had no entrance, at least as far as she could see. It could take her awhile, and-

“What are you doing?!”

 

Eboni whirled around, socking the boy as she did. He recoiled, clutching his cheek. She could tell his eyes were watering.

 

“Who are you?” she asked, very confused at why he was there in the first place. Before he could answer, she realized who he was. “You’re the boy who passed out earlier today, aren’t you.”

 

“Yes”, he said flushing, “and you’re girl whose hair is a mess.”

 

Eboni resisted the urge to punch him again.

 

“So, what do you want?”

 

“You shouldn’t go into that pyramid, you’ll probably die.”

 

“What makes you think I’m going to die?” asked Eboni. “And besides, how did you happen to be here?”

”I was going home from the medic’s, and I stumbled across you being foolish.”

 

“Too bad, I’m going anyway.” With that, she turned and ran towards the pyramid. She was almost there when she was tackled to the ground. The boy was on top of her, trying to stop her from entering.

 

“Stop that! You’re being a– a fool!” With that, she socked him in the face again.

 

“Ouch! Stop punching me!” He easily was stronger than her, so Eboni went limp. The boy kept talking to her. “You really shouldn’t-

 

“Shut up!” He stopped talking, and Eboni strained her ears. She could hear people approaching. The boy now heard them too, and both of them ran behind a block of stone. “Who are-?

 

Eboni punched him in the arm, which made him shut up again.

 

The group of people walked past them, but one stopped.

 

“You sure there aren’t guards? We… should split up and check.”

 

The rest nodded in agreement, and so two men were walking towards Eboni and the boy. Eboni gripped her knife, and the boy made fists. They waited for the right time to ambush, but the boy ran around the corner and punched the two men. They yelled, and Eboni could see the palace guards sleepily coming from their posts. The boy ran away from Eboni, and the guards were getting closer, but not fast enough. They boy was being overwhelmed.

 

“Boy! Catch this!” yelled Eboni, throwing her knife in its sheath to him. He caught it and wielded the blade to the men. With this, the palace guards arrived and started taking care of everything. While this was happening, Eboni sneaked behind the pyramid and found what she was looking for; the entrance. It was elevated, but she could make it, and the riches would be hers.

 

               “Argh”, muttered Eboni. The tunnel to the main chamber or what she thought was. It was so low that she had to stoop a little bit. At least I am not a tall man, she thought to herself bitterly. She made her way through the rough stone passages with a small torch that she had nabbed from the entrance. She walked for a while, and was soon at a taller tunnel. She could see the burial chamber from the faint light the flame was giving off. As she walked, she found that she couldn’t remember which tunnel she had come from, or which way she had gone. She was now approaching the ornate wall, but still had the feeling that she was very lost. She looked up at the fancy carvings of hieroglyphics. They read out a curse, but Eboni had already made it this far, so she continued. As she stepped over the threshold, she saw the riches inside the tomb. Jewelry, money, masks and thrones. It was overwhelming how poor she was and how rich this person had been. She looked at coins, masks, necklaces, and kept stuffing things into her bag. It was filling up fast, and finally it was almost too full and heavy for her to carry. Because she could only use one hand, she had to let a few things stay. After that she slowly walked out of the room, and soon found a tunnel. As she limped along, she heard cursing and a thump from farther down the tunnel. One of the men from before had probably snuck in like her, and was finding his way towards the room. Eboni tried to jump behind something, but found thin air. She reached for her knife, but she had given it to that boy. All she had was a bag of treasures and a torch. As the man got close enough to see the faint glow given off by the flame, he took a knife from his belt. With that, Eboni ran towards him, loot clinking and torch wielded. Once she was close enough, she pulled back her torch and hit him in the face with it. He screamed, and jumped at her, knocking the only weapon she had from her hand. It rolled away, and only hot embers were left to give light. As he got closer, she could see a red mark across his right cheek. He looked livid. She went to punch him in the nose, but he met her wrist with the blade of his knife. This time, Eboni screamed. She stumbled, and the man lunged and stuck his knife through her chest. Eboni gasped, strangely not feeling any pain. The man grinned, grabbed her knapsack, and turned to leave. Eboni was shocked. She looked at the wound in her chest, and knew that she would die here. It couldn’t be. She lay her head down on the floor and looked at the wall. Her vision was blurring. She grabbed the torch from where it lay, and scraping the charcoal against the wall, she started to write. An arm, a foot, wind, water, a feather; Eboni wrote until her arm fell to her side, which made her wince. She gazed over to her sloppy letters and smiled weakly. She now could see very little, and her vision was still dimming. Shadows grew longer, and she could see what looked like Amasis strutting towards her. She giggled and went to stroke him, but her hand passed through his belly. Soon she could not see him anymore, and the tunnel started spinning. Her vision dimmed more. Then, it went completely black.

              “I think I found something!” exclaimed Christopher Henderson, the new intern for a group of archeologists. He had started studying in 1987, and was now already here, in just four years. The archeologists had been uncovering a pyramid, and Christopher had found a skeleton. She was almost complete, and by her were some hieroglyphics that didn’t match the decorations carved on doors and things. They were very sloppy and looked like they were drawn by the charcoal from a torch nearby. “Get me the book!” shouted the intern, and soon had the book of translations from hieroglyphics. He studied the journal and letters carefully and soon deciphered the message. “You guys, look, this says ‘Eboni, the tomb robber’.”