{ his point of view }
"Velevenen," she struggled to say as she held out her fingers, "velvelelen." She sat cross-legged on the ground. We made it to her home early for dinner. I've been teaching her how to count to pass the time while waiting for her family.
"It's eleven," I corrected her, "that comes after ten which comes after nine."
She furrowed her eyebrows before she began counting from zero once again. She messed up a few times, interchanging ten and twelve. She tried another time but mispronounced veleven and twerve. I had to cough a few times to keep myself from chuckling. "This is hard," she mumbled.
"You'd get used to it," I reassured her, trying to cheer her up a bit as we continued to walk on the way to find her brother.
She just shook her head, "Never mind. I just remembered I don't need to learn how to count, anyway."
"What do you mean?" I asked, noticing the tips of her hair turned into silver and black. "You could learn so you can find out when your birthday is and how old you would be. We can celebrate together. When I go back to my world, I'll work hard so I can afford to buy you many presents."
I, myself, have experienced not celebrating my birthday. Not because I forgot or anything. I just didn't have money at the time. Thinking that this girl has missed all the fun in birthdays, I thought we could celebrate together some time.
"I might even get you a cake--"
"Zero."
"Huh?"
"One."
"Two."
"Three."
"Four."
YOU ARE READING
keeper of lost things
Fanfictionhave you ever wondered where all lost things go? like, a spare button or some dimes and pennies or your eraser or your pen or your hope or your faith . . . or at some times, even yourself. where do they all go?
