The Final Piece
By: Junior Writer, Dylan McGee
Looking up at the sky, the rain pouring down my face, I realized that I forgot one last piece. It was a crucial piece, a piece that would make make or break my life. Through the harsh droplets, I traversed, washing away what I needed washed away. Red. As nature took its course, I took mine with a biting jog, sharp and harsh. My clothes, though intentionally light, and my backpack, though empty, were bogging me down. It mattered not, they would soon be gone. In the distance, I saw my house, where the trees grow thinner and dotted the land, rather than crowd it. Thank God for the light left in the sky. Damn, the rain stopped. It’s okay, though. I enter through the back of my house, and retrieve what I need. It would have been *great* to have help, but it’s really okay. I check to make sure no one is really in the house, and leave. I headed to where I had before- the junkyard. There, I opened my pack, and stored the last item, the foot, in the old, formerly unused refrigerator.