He dragged his feet along the rocky path. His breath came out short and sounded like a broken whistle. He cursed beneath the sickly sound.

Where in the world is Simi?

His left foot hurt more than ever as he went past the mango trees under the drizzle. His chest was barely covered by a thin shirt, brown with age and dirt.

Where in the world is Simi?

But what use is Simi now that the elders took her away. What use are his questions? Yet he needed to ask, he needed to be sure his mind was still sane. Late at nights, he often dreamt of them coming back to take him. The fear was so cold that he never closed his eyes to sleep. He listened to every sound in the jungle and waited for death like a new bride.

Maybe if they come I can be at peace, finally. Maybe I’ll see my mother again.

Right now, he knew they wouldn’t come because they hate the rain. He felt so alone, his throat hoarse from screaming so loudly when they took his Simi away. Once again, he let his thoughts drift back to the night she was taken.

“Doga, don’t let them take me away!”

She struggled and fought but he just stared and stared at her big brown eyes. She looked, scared yet beautiful as always. He knew he would never see her again.
He cursed again at himself this time; he should have been there for her but his body went numb at the tiny arrow shot at him that night. Now, it all feels like a dream, a bad dream.

The rain stopped just as his memory brought him back along the path. He knew he should rest but his eyes caught something along the path. Red water flowed silently beside his feet. He followed the water’s trace and came to a cave. Pitch dark but warm. Someone must have built a fire in here. His pace quickened at the thought of somewhere to lay his head. He forgot about the red water.