Ignorance
The long white fur of the Absol glowed in the faint light of the quarter moon as she ran down the narrow, dusty path that cut though the woods. The reason for her activity this late at night was to warn the nearby village of the disaster that was to come.
“Why bother?” suddenly asked a wheezy voice from the wooded gloom on her left. The Absol jumped; she’d thought she was alone.
“They’ll just ignore you, as always,” continued the wheezy voice.
“How do you know what I’m doing?” the Absol blurted out.
“Because I always see you or hear you running desperately on this path to warn a village that doesn’t even listen to you! Seriously, why bother?”
“Who are you?” asked the Absol.
“I,” replied the voice with sudden dignity and pride, “am a Dustox.” He fluttered in front of the Absol to prove this statement.
“Whatever,” said the Absol in a flustered tone. “Can you move out of the way, please? I need to-“
“-warn the village?” the Dustox finished. “No! Go home and go to sleep! Don’t waste your time and energy on those ignorant humans!”
“You don’t understand! This tornado- it’s far worse than before! It will destroy the village!”
“Fine then. Go warn them. But don’t expect them to listen to you. And don’t blame yourself when the storm hits them unaware.” With those scornful words the Dustox flew back into the woods.
The Absol fidgeted indecisively for a second.
Is it really worth it? Do I really need to dash over there and have them ignore me again? Yes, she decided,
it is worth in order to save lives. She began to run again.
It was only fifteen minutes until she reached the quaint little village of Naturkaton. Panting heavily from her long run, she scratched urgently on the ornate door of the mansion of Julius, the man who seemed to settle all the affairs of Naturkaton. The heavy door opened after several minutes to reveal Julius’ maid, who looked tired at this time of night.
But now anger mixed in with tiredness on her lined face as she recognized the Absol.
“You again? Go away, you- you nuisance! Or I’ll have you captured and put to sleep!” she whispered loudly and angrily, and without a second thought she slammed the door in the Absol’s face.
The Absol sighed, as she always did after her failed attempts to alert the village of oncoming disasters.
That Dustox was right, she thought miserably.
This was a waste of time and energy. Let the village be destroyed, I don’t care anymore. She quickly walked to the woods and retreated to an abandoned den underneath an enormous oak tree. When she woke up to bright morning light and padded out of the den, her surroundings looked fiercely windblown; last night’s predicted tornado had come.
Suddenly she felt surge of panic: how had Naturkaton fared? Regretting her decision to stop her dire warnings, she sprinted where the village was.
Naturkaton was completely and utterly destroyed; the tornado had hit it full force. All the houses were flattened heaps of splintered wood, and their inhabitants had either been blown about the wreckage or crushed under the weight of it. The Absol was overcome with furious regret. Why hadn’t she tried harder to convince them?
Why?“Don’t blame yourself,” said a familiar wheezy voice. The Absol turned around to see the Dustox from the woods perched on a broken beam that had been blown away from the rest of the wreckage.
“It’s the villagers’ fault, not yours, for not believing you,” the Dustox continued, his feathery antennae twitching in a sudden gust of cold wind- remnants of the tornado. “You cannot help those who refuse to be helped. The people of Naturkaton brought upon their own downfall.”
“But shouldn’t I have tried harder?” the Absol asked despairingly. “I only woke up the maid before I gave up!”
“If they didn’t believe you before, then what makes you think they would have believed you again?” the Dustox asked. “But it is for you to decide.” He did not wait for an answer. Beating his dull-colored wings, he flew off in the direction of the woods.
The Absol glanced back at the ruins of the village one more time. Then she looked back at the departing Dustox. Feeling slightly less remorseful, she followed in his wake, over the storm-ravaged ground and back to the not-very-damaged woods.
What do you think? Do I need to work on anything?