The Daydreaming Scavenger: Blais CaetonMature

I looked up from my book and glanced out of the window. Sunset; my brother and I would be setting off soon. My head returned to the words on the page just as the door slammed. It looked like we were setting off now. I pulled on my boots, silently slipping in two knives, and grabbed my overcoat. I wandered into the main room and kissed my Father on the cheek.

"Be careful, you too." He said, just like every time we went scavenging. We nodded and said our goodbyes, before heading into the early night.

"You take the West, I'll go East." Darragh told me. I nodded in acknowledgement. It was really quite ridiculous how clinical it was now. It had turned into the normal routine: Darragh got back from work, Father told us to be careful, and off we went, taking different directions each time. Well, what do you expect when we've been scavenging for over five years.

I whistled to myself as I headed to the West, through the mangle of pubs and hotels, nodding to those I recognised. I had a good feeling about tonight. Checking behind me, I cut down an alleyway, finding myself in a maze of side-roads. Keeping my head facing straight on but leaving my eyes to scan the streets, I kept walking. This was one of the rules we had established early on: keep moving. If you stop, you're an easy target. It's even better if you act a little confident. 

Gradually, my pockets began to fill up with what most people would call junk. Gears, cogs, nails, small sheets of metal, and of course, anything that I spotted for myself. I took out my beloved pocket watch, 11:45PM it read. Three hours I'd been out now, and the fog was only just started to join me. I decided that, at this time, the docks would be empty and a little trip was in order, considering the weight of my pockets.

Silently, I ran down the steps to the port, and sat down with my legs dangling over the side. The smell was disgusting but after years of living in the same house as a Portsman, I was used to it. I gazed at the river and daydreamed, about fascinating forests and beautiful women, and underwater cities and treacherous trolls. None of them related, of course, but all created by my downright bizarre brain. 

But a noise dragged me out of that land. A noise? But no ships would sail this late at night... And what if I was caught! I swung my legs up and stood up, ready to cut my trip short, but the sight in front of me made me stop. A man, presumably a sailor, carrying a... machine? No, there was cloth on it. A blue light winked at me and the penny dropped; a girl. A girl made of metal, wearing a floral dress. Why was that man taking her? She didn't seem to be concious, and sailors aren't known for their kind reputation. 

"Hey! What are you doing!" I shouted. 

The man turned to look at me, then raised his eyebrows and continued on his way to the ship. 

"Oi!" I began walking to him, "You can't steal a person! Put her down!"

"Are you questioning me?" A gruff voice answered.

"Yes. Why are you taking her? She clearly doesn't belong to you."

The man, who I now realised to be around 6ft, stared at me and squinted, "And she belongs to you?" I prepared an answer, but apparently he wasn't wanting one."You can join her."

With that, he threw me over his shoulder. Thank God for zip pockets. I screamed and shouted, hoping the night would carry my voice, but to no avail. I only wished I had taken my knives out earlier: in my boots, they weren't much good.

The End

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