Final Copy of Creative Writing Short Story

[the O.G.]

I think it's a bit clearer then the other one. Tell me what you think.

“Our children will never be hungry, nor will we!”
I’ll never forget the day Kori ran into town shouting those words and handing out copies of Newsweek. He had just returned from the city after the 6 years he was gone receiving an education and working I stared blankly at the magazine, scratching my head. I couldn’t read- nor could the majority of the village. After calming down and remembering that very few of us could read, Kori himself began to read the article featured on the cover. It was about an American scientist named Phillip Bennett who invented something called a “Genesis Formula”. When we asked him what the “Genesis Formula” was, he read the article, which said that it was “a variety of specially manufactured fertilizers and soil supplements which could rejuvenate even the most exhausted soils and dried sands over a course of seven years Each package covers a ground area of 25 acres, and can be maintained by an annual rainfall of as little as 10 inches- the average amount of rainfall in the desert regions that this formula will most greatly benefit”.
When I first heard this twenty five years ago, I was a young man- a dreamer, and I truly thought that this “Genesis Formula” would some day keep my yields plentiful, and fill my future children’s stomachs. My initial hopes were raised even more once the Egyptian government announced that they would loan the Sudanese government the money necessary to buy Genesis Formula packages for several commercial farms and produce crops for roughly a decade. By then, the Egyptians figured, the Sudan would have produced enough crops to feed it’s whole population, as well as enough to export and thus repay the loan to Egypt. Unfortunately, this plan was never put into action, because a few months before the loans were to be signed the Sudan People’s Liberation Army launched a coup d’état against the Sudanese government and declared the country free of all Arab and Muslim oppression, and economically independent. So, while the rest of the world reaped the benefits of Bennet’s invention, myself, and the millions of others in my country went to sleep on empty stomachs.
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10 year’s later….
This morning I woke up bit late. Even after 13 hours of sleep, I was exhausted. Sleeping longer amounts of time can only repress your hunger for so long. I walked over to our water pot and splashed water on my swollen eyes. The water burned them more than usual, and, unless I was more disoriented then usual, appeared to cause them to swell even more. I checked on my children before leaving. Both were still breathing and asleep. I stretched my legs a bit, picked off a few of the most painful blisters, and then set off on my quest for food.
Halfway through the forest, I saw two men fighting over the an empty cob of corn. Any time men were reduced to squabbling over such meager rations I knew I was too late. But, with two hungry children at home, I had no choice but to try anyway. As I grew nearer and nearer to the UN compound, I witnessed this scene over and over again. Men biting each other, scratching, kicking, head butting, anything to obtain even a crumb.
After roughly half an hour of enduring painful cuts on my bare feet from the forest floor, I reached the UN compound. For the past year or so the compound had given out surplus food from their cafeteria; usually feeding up to 300 people a day. Initially people lined up in organized lines and were graciously handed food, but as food grew more and more scarce, more people began to show up then could be fed by the UN worker‘s. It became extremely unsafe to be seen walking off with food by other hungrier people, as I saw on the way to the compound. Just as I suspected, the UN workers had already returned into the compound. I scavenged the ground in front of the compound gates and managed to find a banana peel. Perhaps I could chop it up, boil it, and eat it. Greatful, I began home.
When I arrived back to the village I checked on my children. Meho was still sleeping on his cot and Jani was outside playing with her friends. I spoke to with the village doctor, Yani, who was educated in France, routinely handed out cans of vegetables sent to him by friends from Europe. He had nothing to give. I spoke to several other people over the course of an hour, and none of them had anything to give. Three days ago, my children both ate a rare fresh apple which one of the people from the UN compound handed to me from across the fence. My children once went without food for over a week. I suppose they’d be ok, for now.
I went for a stroll along the outer rim of the village and noticed Kaleem and his family outside their hut enjoying a few cobs of corn and canned chicken. It’d been years since I’d seen canned chicken, and Yani always kept any meat he had for his family.
“Kaleem my friend!” I greeted him with a warm smile and handshake. He was wearing blue pants and a white shirt, similar to the clothing I’d often see the residents of the UN compound wear from across the fence. However, he still wore our traditional sandals.
“Anazi, how do you do my friend?” He said, patting his sons shoulder.
“How have you been so fortunate, brother?” I asked, pointing to the food and his clothing.
He looked me up and down “Khartoum my friend, Khartoum. It’s become a city of opportunity, and because of the great fortune I’ve found there, I’ll now be able to feed my family for six months”. He drew from his pocket a stack of folded Euro bills.
“Did you find a job in a textile factory or something?” I asked. I had sought out employment at such a place at one point, to no success.
Kaleem laughed. “No my friend. Those factories make no use of people like us”. He lifted up his shirt, revealing a scar along the side of his abdomen. “I was paid a fortune for this one. They said you can live with one, so I said, why not?”
“How? What did you have to do?” I asked.
“Anazi my friend, you’ve always been given to my family even when you’ve had little to give. I remember the last fish you ever caught before the lake dried up. You gave it’s head to my family even though with it you could have fed your own family for another week. Because of this my friend, I will help you”.
He put his arm around me, and the two of us walked away from his hut. And he told me how he fed his family.
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As I laid on the table, I thought of my children’s ever protruding rib cages, cracked skin, and cries for food. I couldn’t believe that such a small sacrifice on my part would be able to end all of that once and for all. One of the doctor’s approach me. He placed a plastic apparatus over my mouth. I panicked a moment, unsure of what he was doing. “Relax,” he told me. I breathed in, and slept.
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I awoke some time later, feeling slightly dizzy. I laid on a different table, my lower body covered in a blanket. I lifted the blanket and ran my hand across my newly formed scar. It was stitched shut.
“Your other clothes make you stand out a bit too much,” said the doctor. He motioned to my tunic. “Put on these clothes,” he said, and tossed me a pair of blue pants and a white shirt, similar to what Kaleem was wearing.
He handed me a small plastic bag. Within it were a thin collection of bills; ten €100 bills. €1000. The final price we settled on for my kidney. It was more then enough money to feed my children for a month, and probably enough for me to invest in a cow or sheep Apparently, my kidney would save the life of a European aristocrat who fell ill several weeks earlier. I clutched my side. The pain was immense, but the sense of liberation and hope that the money gave me was far more gripping to my senses. I picked up the bag and trembled at my good fortune. I shook the doctors hand, and then began to make my way out the door, but he stopped me.
“There’s no way you’ll be able to just walk out of here with that money and not get robbed. Gangs roam these streets at night. The only way you’ll make it out is with this”. From his pocket emerged another small plastic bag, with what appeared to be yet another stack of ten €100 bills. Of course, that was only what it appeared to be.
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I spit up a few teeth, and coughed up some blood. I ached from head to toe. I had no idea I had that many places that could be kicked on my body. They had emerged from an abandoned building and overwhelmed me from all sides. One of them threw me to the ground, while the rest kicked me. One of them grabbed the plastic bag from me, and they all ran.
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I reached the village two days later; which was a lot less time then it took to go to the Khartoum. A few miles out from the city I was picked up by a few UN workers who had been in town and headed in the general direction of my village. My children were more then happy to see me, especially when I arrived home with a few bags of potato chips given to me by the UN workers. They feasted happily upon this surprise meal.
I headed out to the forest until I was well out of the view of anyone in the village. I leaned my back against the tree for support, and squatted down. It was extremely uncomfortable, but I reached up within myself and, after a few minutes of effort, managed to pull it out.
I let out a sigh of relief. I stood up straight I hope those scumbags are enjoying they’re Monopoly money, I thought. I didn’t understand what exactly the doctor meant by calling the money in decoy bag “Monopoly money”, but all I knew was that the gangsters in Khartoum had that, and I had my hard earned €1000. All the pain I’d been through the past few days, and all the suffering myself and my children had been through for their whole lives, was finally over.
Later that day, Kori, who was now almost an old man, ran into town waving around a copy of Newsweek.
“Anazi, Anazi!” he shouted. “Did you hear? A new 2nd generation of Bennet’s Genesis Formula has been released, and this time it’s cheaper, only €1000 a package! I can make that much at the factories in three years!”
I thought about it for a moment. Then I made my decision. I held up the soiled plastic bag and said, “Kori, I’ve got a Genesis formula right here.”

[bogusar]

Yeah, that went a lot better. It was a lot clearer and more realistic. It had a nice flow to it.

There were a couple of mistakes like using "it's" where "its" should be, and using "they're" where "their" should be. Plus, I would like to see spaces between the paragraphs. The important part is that it's a good story and well written. Good job!

--bog

[the O.G.]

Yeah, that went a lot better. It was a lot clearer and more realistic. It had a nice flow to it.

There were a couple of mistakes like using "it's" where "its" should be, and using "they're" where "their" should be. Plus, I would like to see spaces between the paragraphs. The important part is that it's a good story and well written. Good job!

--bog

Thanks. I'll edit those. Good thing you read this and told me the problems before class. I did this in like an hour last night so I could get to bed at a reasonable time and still be able to drive to school. Are the messages still clear?

[bogusar]

Most definitely. The messages are more clear now.

--bog