Title: Stumbling Upon The Truth? Word Count: 419 Created for the Tropetember Event - Gaia's Lament Your parents often talk of a time, long ago, where the world was lush and beautiful, and you’ve always thought this was a fairytale they’d fabricated for you. The epitome of a utopia that never truly existed except for in their minds. The world now is, well, barren, for lack of a better word. Animals don’t roam the lands and you couldn’t grow weeds much less actual, real food.
You remember the first time you were allowed to see the surface. The guards had layered you in protective clothing and issued orders that you were to travel to the nearest safehouse and gather information. There had been rumors of a rebellion sparking recently, and you were trustworthy. On that trip, you’d gotten lost on the way, for the surface looked the same no matter which way you went. There were no markers to decipher your direction.
But then, you’d seen a glimpse of green, stark and saturated against the washed out, dry dirt of the land. It was protected by a glass like structure that blocked it from the rest of the world, and so, obviously, you moved in for a closer look. Had your parents been telling the truth? Inching forward, you searched for an entrance to this odd structure until you heard a gravelly voice call out.
“Oh my word, it’s just a kid. Michael! We found another one, get me some water and food, now.” An older lady had suddenly appeared in your view and gently took your hand, pulling you into the structure and locking it up behind you. She made quick work of removing the protective gear you wore. Before you knew it, the gear was laid in a messy pile by the door and she was guiding you towards an even smaller structure. It reminded you vaguely of places you’d heard of in your parents’ stories, but.. Those were stories... Right?
“On it!” A voice answered, and it struck you how young they sounded. Were there kids here? A boy, around your age, came rushing out of the other building with a cup in hand and a small bowl in the other. “Hi! I’m Michael, you can call me Mikey, though.”
“Oh, I uh, okay.” You sputter and the older woman chuckles.
“Mikey, hun, calm down. Remember, you were like this too when I found you.”
“Yes, ma’am. Are we going to tell them the truth?”
“Of course. Now, settle down, you, and let me tell you a story.”