Little People

by Joe Zamil


Iam Joe, and me and my family lived in a small town which formaly used to be a village. It was surrounded by farms which supplied most of the town's food including all the meat and milk. But it was only considered a town because of its size as it was'nt all that much on technology, for example non of the houses had televisions and if they did they would'nt use them, most of the time you can only see donkeys and horses on the roads that have their dropings all over them as cars were rare and even if you did see one it would be an old rusted one that would disappear in its own mist of smoke. The only thing they had were radios and every afternoon after work families would gather up in front of them and just listen for hours.

I was seven, and was always curious about the radios. What was making those noises i wondered, maybe there are little in there, but why are the poor things caged in the strange box that dose not even have windows, it dose have a small door though i thought about the casset player door, i cassualy left pieces of food for the little people in there but everyone would laugh at me and my dad would come and take them out. Why, iam only helping them. I have seen my brothers get blamed sometime for thing they did not do and get punished, but that must have been the most cruelest thing i have seen, i was'nt going to let it be, i was going to let them free, they were only little, what could they possibly done to have deseve such a punishment?

One day, like any other day my father was out working, and my mother and two big brothers were going to the markets to get groceries.

"come on Joe, we'll visit the playground on our way back" she said, normally i would not refuse such an offer but i things more important things in mind as i was plannig to set the little people free all week and was waiting for the opportune moment, like when no is there to stop me or can even see me. So i refused to leave the house and my brothers left without me for the first time. I had broken things before, infact many thing, but never for the freedom of others and never as huge as a radio, so it was going to be a challenge.

I remembered how my dad used to open huge ugly boxes with that piece of metal on the table, the screw driver. I took it and started by banging it to the little door, after a while it started to break then fell off completely, but it was not enough, there seemed to be a wall after the door, so i thought the pionty piece of metal is not going to do much then threw it away and went looking for something bigger to break the box with.

I searched here and there till i found it, the perfect tool, a brick, it has never failed me before and i doubt it will now. Bang it goes on the radio, again and again and again till the whole thing finally broke in half.

"Uh,ow...", junk, scraps of junk and strang wires, thats all there was. Not even one person. It was then when i started to wonder if there realy were little people at all. What ever it was, me braking the box did not do any good, infact if my dad finds out i would be in heaps of trouble. I could'nt let it sit there brocken in half for everyone to see, i had to hide it, but where would you hide a gaint box?

Between us and our neighbors was a wall, and we had a ladder on that wall to connect us to them. They were'nt home as well so i decided to dump all the scraps over there. One by one i took the pieces up the ladder and threw them in the neighbors yard. To finish off i returned the pionty metal and the brick back where they were so no one would ask any questions. The funny thing is, when you'r a child you do not realize how obvious some things realy are. Anyway that afternoon there was some yelling about where the radio was. Then the neighbor knocked our door holding the scraps of the trashed radio in his hand, and then everyone stared at me, hey, just because i wreck things it dose'nt mean i broke the radio, dose it?

The punishment i got realy hurt... literaly!!!

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