My Comrades

I got to the kitchen and found the fellow Geoff talking with the girl I first saw when I came in, the fellow told me how to operate the fridge (I know that sounds silly, but I apparently needed to give the damned thing a gift first). The good news was that the kitchen had whatever I wanted, so one cup of black caravan tea I was in much better spirits.

Just then a little girl came in. She greeted me, and very quickly asked if I had a family. I figured that it might do me some good to talk aloud about who I am, perhaps I might remember more and figure out why I was sent to the house.

"Well, I think I have a family, of a sort. What I remember is having a close group of friends who I worked with, we were a bit like a family, albeit a very odd one."

"What do you mean?" she asked me as she leaned against the counter beside me.

"Let's say weren't very nice people, we used to transport things illegally, and sometimes we hurt people. None of really liked hurting people, but it just happened that way... I don't know about things where you come from, but where I'm from, the police are terrible people, some of them are worse than criminals.

"I even had a wife, she was one of the people in charge of our group too. She was always a very sweet person... if people didn't try to get in our way of course." I sighed and sipped at my tea, staring at the opposite wall and talking I had actually forgotten that I had been speaking to someone about my life.

"Why are so sad?" I nearly jumped when she asked me after a few minutes of silence.

"I am sad because I know that my friends, my wife, and I weren't always like that, mean that is. We weren't ever like that before, but I think we just started to love the money we were making far too much than anyone should."

I remembered that this is was drove me to drink before, knowing what terrible people we had all become, knowing that we would never change, and knowing that it would never end well for any of us.

"It looks like you need more hot cocoa," pointed at the empty in her hands, "we ought to make more." 

If I'm going to be stuck here for a while I might as well try to be a nice guy.


The End

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