The chase was on, he felt it in the depths of his body. With every thump of his heart he knew that something was coming. He quickly drew the bundle he was carrying closer to his shivering body, for fear that whatever was coming would kill what the blanket was hiding. He then removed from the pocket of his plain brown robe a sharp knife, the monk had been training for this moment his whole life.
Unlike any other monk, he was young and full of energy. His muscles seemed to almost burst with every movement he made, they tensed when he told them to tense, they relaxed only when he told them to relax, they killed when he told them to kill. His life had been given to him because of this moment and he was ready to die.
He continued to move down the street with total awareness of his surroundings. The street was in a small quite neighborhood. Their wasn’t anything unordinary about this neighborhood, in fact it was the most plainest and dullest the monk had ever seen, it was perfect for the plan. Now all he needed to do was find a family before…….but it was to late, there was a huge gust of wind and the monk knew he had only a small chance before he failed. The gust of wind had been cold and icy, it took the fear in every one that felt it and made it a hundred times greater, the monk knew it meant only one thing, it was here. If any normal human had felt the wind they would have gone crazy in an instant, but with the monk it was different, he knew he was going to die, he had known since he was a baby, he knew no fear and so the wind had no fear to play off of. Although he was not afraid he ran, he ran to save a life.
Faster and faster he moved down the street. He had to make his move now or it was all over. Hastily he scanned the row of houses looking for the perfect one, but none seemed just good enough for the bundle he carried. He was becoming desperate, if he didn’t find what he was looking for, everything he had ever strived for would have been for nothing, he would mean nothing. Suddenly he heard a noise, it was coming from farther up the street.
“Ice cream is for baby’s, I’m not a baby.”
The monk paused listening carefully.
“Okay…well then we can just head on home then.”
“Sweetie why do you always have to be so harsh to him? This is a stage he is going through, all boys do this.”
There were three of them, a boy, a man and a woman and most likely a family. The monk sighed it was them or no one. He hesitantly unwrapped the bundle and gently placed what was in it on the ground, the thing made a faint grunt and then nothing. He then hurriedly rewrapped the bundle up making it look exactly as it had before. He turned to go, but something made him look back at what he had left on the ground and before running off to his death he whispered,
“Grow strong, blessed one.”
The Lansing’s seemed to be, at a quick glance, one of the many average American families of the town of Chesterville. There was the overly competitive father, the ex beauty queen mother and the misbehaved son. But at a closer glance this was a family who didn’t know anything about one another, they rarely even saw each other, let alone talked to each other. So one must conclude that it was most likely destiny that on a oddly cold May night, they were all together walking down the street going to get some ice cream. It could be called destiny because as they were walking down the street they happened upon a most strange site. Laying in the middle of the sidewalk was a small child, fast asleep in a tiny blanket. They were all completely surprised as to their find, but the mother, having motherly instincts kick in, gently picked up the baby and rocked it back and forth as if it was her own. Soon they were walking down the street again with a added member to the family.
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