A Whole New World

The Little Ones

Lauren absentmindedly stared up at the sky, fixated on the grey blanket growing above the church. The sky boomed and growled, signaling the brewing storm.

Lauren looked over the makeshift graves and the overgrown grass. Due to the fact the church was on a hill, she could see the undead roaming the streets over the wall. The way they aimlessly wandered from place to place unsettled her.

The shrieking of a little girl jolted Lauren out of her stupor.

"Lauren!" Fiona screamed, running up to Lauren. "Kevin hit me in the face!"she said, pointing an accusing finger at Kevin. Her face was red with anger and pain. Her eyes were welling up, on the brink of overflowing, but Fiona wiped away the tears before they fell.

"She's lying!" Kevin said, carrying a soccer ball. "The ball didn't even hit her!"

Lauren sighed, bringing a hand to her face.

"Okay, can one of you tell me exactly what happened?" Lauren asked, letting out an exasperated sigh.

Kevin and Fiona spoke with their boundless energy, speaking over each other in an attempt to defend themselves. Their voices bounced around in her head. Lauren rubbed her forehead, frustrated from the verbal assault on her ears.

"Shut up!" Lauren shouted, startling the kids into silence. "Please," she quickly followed up, in justification for her outburst. "Thank you. Now, please," Lauren said with an agitated tone, "can one of you, just one, tell me what happened?"

"Well, I was just minding my own business," Fiona started, taking this as her cue to defend herself. "I was taking some pictures when Kevin kicked the ball in my face!"

"That is a lie!" Kevin cut in, now pleading his case. "I didn't even do anything wrong! I wasn't even aiming for her! She just got in the way!"

Fiona returned with her argument, reviving the previous barrage of whines, complaints, and insults that were considered to be highly offensive for their age; While Kevin went on about how Fiona's face resembled a duck's, she insisted that his intelligence was to be rivaled by one. Lauren clasped her hands on Kevin's shoulders and looked him in the eyes.

"Kevin, did you hit her with the ball? Yes or no?" Lauren asked, giving Kevin a stern stare. He held his confidence for a while longer, before reluctantly nodding. "Now, apologize to Fiona."

Kevin was appalled by the very thought of having to apologize for a crime he did not commit. Lauren might as well had asked an innocent man to apologize for murder. Every ounce of his being refused to do something so embarrassing. He would have never apologized if it were not for the lingering fear of his mother learning of what he had done. He mustered up all of his strength to push past the shame of his next words.

"I'm sorry," he said pitifully, averting his gaze to his shoes, his face beaming with humiliation.

If apologizing was not embarrassing enough, Lauren insisted that he turn to Fiona and say it to her. Kevin turned to see Fiona's righteous smile. She relished in his scolding, hiding her smug attitude behind a facade of tears. He indignantly apologized with a bitter tone.

"Thank you," Lauren said, deceived by the tears of a little girl. "Now, go off and play without hitting Fiona with the ball. Stay in sight and don't go wandering off, okay?"

Fiona and Kevin nodded, darting through the tall grass like a pair of rabbits. Lauren sighed in relief, watching the kids go off and do their separate interests. Her eyes wandered about the backyard of the church. A few feet away from the gravesite, an old, white church bus was parked behind the church. Saint Elliot baptist church was printed in bold, purple letters on both sides of the bus, just below the windows. It was abandoned and in disrepair. It was forgotten, left to sit in the grass like a rock. There was also the door that lead to the church bell. It was locked and Clarke had the only key. She continued to scan the backyard, counting every time she saw a stick poking up from the grass like wooden submarines. Off the top of her head, she counted twenty-four wooden periscopes. Her eyes eventually fell on her grandmother's grave. Two sticks bound with a foot of string, made to resemble a cross, were driven into the fresh layer of dirt that was Liesel's makeshift grave. She averted her gaze, clearing her throat and holding back the tears.