Reskric Village was a beautiful place situated over an abandoned iron mine. Once a city of influence, it dwindled away after the iron well dried up. People left gradually, but some stayed, making a living off the land with what little farming they could manage. The only crop Reskric could produce was squash, and though there were three types, the plants thrived in the heat. It was a calm, idyllic village, and it was incredibly “boring.”

The childlike cry of a young girl pierced the air as she watched the lazy village from her super-secret mountain hideout. The girl, with her curling blonde hair, sighed into her hands. “Nothing happens,” she complained again. As the only child in the village, she had little to do but her chores, which were repetitive and boring.

A melancholic sigh escaped her lips. She stood up, gave one last look at the dry, dull brown land of her home, and retreated back into her hideout, making her way home. Even the grappling and climbing in the mountains had become dull over the years. After eight years of nothing but work and play, she returned to the village, sensing a different air about it. Excitement cracked like electricity.

The villagers were rushing around, something these old individuals had never done before. “Betsy!” an elderly woman, adorned with too much old jewelry, called out to her. “Great news,” she said with a smile. “The Johnson couple are going to have a baby!” she cheered with excitement.

“A baby?” Betsy repeated.

“Yes!” the old woman exclaimed. “We're going to have another young one soon!”

For a while, Betsy shared their excitement, but then it faded as the months passed. “What's so special about a child?” she wondered, sighing again. It seemed to take forever for the baby to arrive. Three months had passed, and the baby was still not due any time soon.

All that changed was that the Johnson house received special treatment. His wife, a woman named Jennie, no longer needed to work, and the man himself, Johnson, lazed around the house all day. Yet Betsy was still expected to work, and her chores even increased. It was all terribly unfair. Not only that but now the old bat Margrite was ‘teaching’ her how to manage a house. It was the same work her mother did, and Betsy didn't want to learn that. It was boring. Everything was just so boring.

She wanted to leave. She hated it here. She always had. She wanted to be somewhere else, but what else was there? The adults didn't seem to care for her like they used to. It took six more months for the baby to be born, and Betsy learned why everyone was acting differently.

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“I knew it!” Mr. Johnson exclaimed after the baby was born. It was a disgusting event, with a lot of crying, screaming, and blood. Betsy was fascinated by it. After all, it was the first interesting thing to happen in the village in years. “Cool,” she commented. Maybe she could be a doctor. The people respected the man who arrived for the birth, and he was wealthy. He didn't accept a handful of Geld for the job but rather six silver Dons. These silver coins were hard to come by. You needed a few hundred Geld to get a single Don.

A doctor… Now that was interesting. Certainly better than a farmer, blacksmith, or… Well, being a doctor was really the only job that seemed somewhat interesting. Doctor…

“It's a boy!” The celebration snapped young Betsy out of her thoughts. Everyone was celebrating the birth. The whole village was practically there. The rest were outside the building. The doctor had ensured only family could witness the birth, but it didn’t answer Betsy’s question about why she was there. After a moment of talking, Mr. Johnson took Betsy by the arm and led her to Mrs. Johnson, who had been holding the baby for a while.

“All right, little Betsy. Meet your future husband,” he said, confusing the girl. “Jen and I have decided to name him Darrick after her father. What do you think of that?” Betsy could only look at him, confused.

“Darrick is a… fine name?” she questioned, unsure of what they wanted. “But what do you mean, husband?” she asked.

The couple smiled. “Well,” Mrs. Johnson said as she played with the little boy. “You and our little Darrick—yes, that’s right, hello, little Darrick.”

“Your parents and I decided to do what was natural,” Mr. Johnson said as his wife got distracted. “After all, you are the only children in the village, and we need to ensure the legacy.”

“What!?” A chill gripped the little girl’s heart. Marry a baby? But she couldn't. No, she didn't care about a legacy or whatever. The village was already dead. She just wanted to leave---needed to leave.

Meanwhile, Mr. Johnson poked her on the nose with a smile. “Little Darrick and Betsy, what a fine family we will make,” he offered lovingly, turning to look at his own baby again with a warm smile.

Betsy looked at everyone in the room. They were all crazy. They had to be. No one seemed to be out of it, so she ran. Outside the room, she was bombarded with questions. She struggled to escape and found herself outside, only to be confronted by the rest of the village. She managed to escape, even ignoring her own parents' cries for her. She couldn’t stay there. Her heart wouldn’t allow it. She ran. She ran so far away. She just ran. It seemed she could continue all night and day. Yet she couldn't get away.

She ended up in her secret hideout once again. Curled up in a small corner. If only she could run. But where would she go? This village was her world. She knew about the outside from the merchants and other travelers, all of whom were surprised the village still existed. They wouldn't take her. She could ask the doctor, but it would be the same. She was stuck here. Destined to die as another miserable housewife. Tears streamed down her face. She was never so miserable as she when the entirety of the Reskric village celebrated.