We have to keep them safe. We have to keep them secure.
One day they’ll be able to do it all themselves, they’ll know what’s safe and what’s dangerous; what’s right and what’s wrong.
Don’t touch that, don’t go there, don’t go out, don’t make a sound.
There are so many bad things out there – people, diseases, wars – and them.
Until then it’s all on us. It’s our responsibility for their survival.
When they come, looking for more fresh meat, looking for food, we are their security. We sacrifice the elderly, the old, to fend them off, to keep them at bay, to appease. The Harvesters we call them.
They have fed on us for so long now that they will soon have to look elsewhere. There are hardly any of us left, and those that are left have more bone that meat.
So they cannot know about the younglings. We keep them hidden away. When they are gone we will be ready to grow again, to repopulate. And the next generation will be ready for them when The Harvesters decide to return.
Written for the Ragtag Daily Prompt: Friday – Security. Read more about the writing prompt and other stories inspired by it HERE.
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