The Wish

I was challenged to write a piece about my character as a child. So, here is a piece about Jeanie as a child, but I warn, it probably isn’t going to be the happiest piece around. Of course, as all of my Jeanie pieces, this is based on a character I play in the world of Dystopia Rising by Eschaton Media.

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“Little sister, you have to keep up!”

A small Iron Slave, roughly seven or eight years old, quickly turned her face back to the crate she was carrying. It was full of scrap pieces in many sizes that she was moving. Many Iron Slaves had welded or smelted down the scrap pieces, making sure they were just the right size. Then the engineers would be able to use them in the larger build projects. Her eyes quickly glanced over to the forge again.

“Little sister, let’s go.”

The Iron looked over at the other Iron talking to her. The other Iron was tall, a grown up, though to anyone else, she may have only been around eighteen or nineteen years old. To the child, she was a grownup and old. Hair pulled back with string and the number A-816 tattooed to the Iron’s face. She too held a crate of scrap.

“I was just looking at the engineers,” the child said as she shuffled forward with the heavy crate.

“I know, but don’t forget what Boss always says: work and chores. Then you can watch the engineers work.”

“Why is it always work first?”

“That’s what it is for Iron Slaves like us.”

“Do you think when I’m big enough, Boss will let me be an engineer?”

The older Iron gently shook her head. “No dear. None of the engineers are Iron Slaves. But, if you work your hardest, and show Boss that you can be very careful with the scrap, he’ll probably let you work on the scrap at one of the forges.”

“I wish I was smart enough to be a real engineer.”

The older Iron Slave put down the crate of scrap. She then carefully took the crate that the child held and hefted it on top of the first crate. With a smile, she knelt down to be eye level with the young Iron Slave.

“Little sister, you are absolutely smart enough to be an engineer. You think and you figure things out. That is important for engineers to do. Boss just doesn’t let Irons be engineers.”

The child sighed. 16 gently brushed some soot off of her “little sister’s” cheek.

“Work hard. Do your best. Use all your thoughts carefully. Maybe, if you’re lucky, a genie will come along. Though, instead of helping you with the Rat Pack like he did for Al-a-din, he can help you be an Iron Slave Engineer, someone Boss trusts to work on the tougher stuff.”

The child looked up. “Do you think so? Do you think I’ll be able to do the really big projects?”

“Maybe one day, if you wish hard enough, Boss will let you.”

The child nodded, closed her eyes and wished with all her might. If she was lucky a genie might hear it and help her out.

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