A continuation. . Chapter 1 by Lalo

While most people don’t see what the plants need, some others do, but don’t do much about it. Ever since I was attacked by those plants, I can hear the plants scream for help. The beings of this world don’t hear what I hear, and because of that, they get on my nerves a lot. I was on my way to a park to protest against the oil pipe placement in an Native American reserve. I was not just going to protest for the placement of the pipe but for how if the pipe had a leak. The pollution would spread from where it is to anywhere. But, back to when I was trying to hail a taxi: in the corner of my eye I see a one guy about to get beat up by six others.

Are you going to hurt that guy?” I said as one was about to throw a punch.

Of course we are. This guy wouldn’t let us in front of him in line for the snack shack!” he screamed.

Pathetic. A couple of little boys trying to hurt a guy for something so little. Why don’t you just leave the man alone. He didn’t do anything wrong. Now go.” “ I don’t think so,” he said, while charging at me.

Tackling me to the ground, I knew talking it out was out of the question. Thank God there was a tree right next to me. I controlled it to grow a vine out of it a throw him to the wall. Other vines grew from that one and held down all of his limbs. One of his friends ran to me but as he did I caught him and kissed him. I’m basically poison so that kiss intoxicated him into passing out. All of his friends left. The guy in the vines I talked to him and told him to leave. And he did. The guy getting beat up was very grateful. He went off and I told him to always count on the Green. Not even realizing that we were in an ally I remembered the protest. I ran to the cab and I was on my way.

When I got to the site it was already over. I went home knowing I had helped somebody and missed the protest for a good reason. It was only 5pm but I was so tired. I planned to only take a 10-minute nap but I woke up the next morning.

-An excerpt from a short story by Lalo, written during Creative Writing Workshop, at Potranco Branch Library and Mays Family YMCA.

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