[Runner-Up of Senior Division] Expendable

To be young is to be useful. The youth have a lot going for them that makes them helpful for everyone. They are, well, young and full of energy! They can go to the fields to farm in the scorching sun for hours like it’s nothing. They can put in so much overtime at work to make the boss happy. They can go across the world and die fight for their country. The youth can do anything they want, or anything they’re told. 

“To be young is to be useful,” Abel told himself as he tirelessly plucked the weeds with his sweaty hands in the sweltering heat. He did not mind the fact that the sun’s rays were tearing through the thin fabrics of his clothes and piercing the flesh of his skin. He did not mind that the salt-ridden sweat from his brow kept getting into his eyes, causing them to burn hotter than the sun on his skin. He did not mind that he was out in the garden alone tending for crops that would feed the whole village. 

All by his lonesome did he pluck away for hours. And hours. And hours. What kept Abel going was that he was not doing this for himself, he was doing it for everybody. If he didn’t pluck the weeds, the growth of the produce would be stunted. If that happens, well, nobody could eat! Nobody wants that, right? Nobody does. And nobody else has the skills and grit to do it. At least, that’s what everyone else tells him. 

Abel’s the “man for the job,” as he has heard incessantly. This was music to Abel’s ears, actually. He couldn’t believe it! After countless years of waiting, he finally started getting taken seriously by everyone. The adults finally acknowledged his potential to be useful and to be a helping hand for the good of the entire village. Even his own father had finally called Abel a man. To be a man at twelve years of age is a gift. Not every child becomes a man that early. The title of “young man” makes Abel’s heart fill with a sense of pride and accomplishment he never experienced before.

As the sun fell into the horizon and the moon rose up from it, Abel’s work at the vegetable garden was over. Over the course of ten hours did he tend to the garden, and he did so impeccably if you were to ask him. Despite the moon’s soft glow washing over him, he was still 

sweating. His eyes were still burning from the salt of his sweat. His skin still burned hot as he touched it. His ears were being distracted by the sounds of yelling and screaming. Abel turned around. 

The annual celebration of the village’s founding is underway! The citizens have gathered at the heart of the village and commemorate the history of the village with cheering, singing, dancing, and food. Abel would love to attend, but he doesn’t have enough energy to swing by and make quick conversation. He’s glad everyone else is having a great time, though. 

Abel peered into the edge of the village and gazed at his own house. Well, not his, but his father’s. It was late, and father was probably asleep by now. Abel placed his tools on the ground with a loud thud and started heading in the direction of his house. Sleep would be a good thing to have right now. After working hard like that, Abel deserves a break. At least, that’s what he thinks. 

Abel walks up to the front door of his house, places his right hand on the doorknob and keeps it there. He pauses for a moment, then decides to take his hand off of the doorknob. As much as he may want to, Abel knows he cannot take a break yet. Somebody has to keep watch of the village throughout the dark, dangerous night. And wouldn’t you know, Abel is the “man for the job,” which fills his heart with a sense of pride and accomplishment. 

“To be young is to be useful,” Abel tells himself. Abel’s legs start to shake as he walks towards the watchtower. He hasn’t eaten in hours. His body calls out to him in anger and frustration. The beast of hunger thrashes inside of Abel’s stomach, waiting impatiently for its

next meal. However, Abel could satiate his ravenous cravings just yet. It was important that he conserve food for the others in the village. The others need their nourishment, after all. Abel would never be so selfish as to deny the others their meals. He can get by. 

Abel ascends the ladder and looks out to the horizon. The fields are empty, yet again. And they will be empty for the rest of the night, won’t they? Maybe he can close his eyes for a couple of minutes. If he did that, something bad could happen. It’s probably best if he kept his eyes open. 

A roar pierces the lining of Abel’s ears. He wakes from his sleep. A large bear is trying to break through the village walls. If Abel hadn’t fallen asleep, he could have prevented the bear from getting this close. 

Abel’s fear grips him at first, as he cowers behind the watchtower’s walls. However, in the chaos, Abel remembers that he’s the man for the job. He picks himself up, makes eye contact with the bear, who roars even louder at him. Abel grabs the sword to his right and braces himself for action. 

“To be young is to be useful,” Abel says to himself as he leaps off the watchtower and survives the great fall to the ground. While he did survive the fall, he did not land well. Abel’s lack of sleep has made his legs weaker, and he could not fully brace the landing. With a limp in his right leg, he charges at the bear. 

The bear gets off of all fours and stands upright on its hind legs, towering over Abel and casting a shadow on him. The bear roars, then swipes at Abel. He clumsily dodges the strike, leaping to his right and clashing hard with the ground. He gets back up and swings his sword at the bear. He made no contact, as the bear is faster than it looks, and Abel’s reflexes are not as sharp as usual. His lack of sleep has dulled his senses. The bear swipes at Abel again, this time

making contact. The bear’s claws slashed Abel’s chest and the crimson red color of his blood reflected in the moonlight. The blood drips down his leg, but he does not falter. Abel swings again and makes contact. However, the strike was weak and barely made any difference. His lack of sleep and lack of food has weakened him even more. 

The bear is hungry. The beast of hunger thrashes in the bear’s stomach. This same beast is currently within Abel too. However, this shared beast will fail Abel and aid the bear. The bear lunges at Abel, who is briefly distracted by his screaming stomach. The bear sinks its teeth into Abel’s arm, causing Abel to lose grip of his sword. Abel miraculously pulls himself out of the bear’s iron grip, but the wound is deep. Parts of his flesh are missing, assumedly in the bear's stomach. 

Abel falls to the ground on his back and loses all breath in his body. He stares up and sees the bear staring back. The bear huffs and walks around to Abel’s legs and bites his right leg. After clenching its grip, the bear drags Abel away. 

Abel looks up and gazes at the moon. This will be the last time he can gaze at the moon’s beauty. The last time he can feel the cool breeze flip his hair and run itself through his scalp. The last time he can inhale the crisp night air. He wishes he could feel the scorching heat of the air one last time. 

As the moon hides behind the horizon and the sun rises from it, Abel’s father comes out of the house to find that Abel is missing. He quickly runs to the village leader and tells him that Abel is missing and not at his post. The village leader takes a moment to pause and ponder. He thanks Abel’s father for the information and closes the door in his face. Abel’s father stands alone with a blank expression on his face.

Later that day, the village chief visited the house of a young Matthew, who was eleven years of age. He had a kind heart, a warm soul, and an eagerness to be there for those around him. He had never spoken with the leader before, but he had always wanted to. He couldn’t believe that the leader was here to speak with him. 

“Matthew,” the leader said. “It appears that Abel has abandoned the post like the traitorous rat he was. I was skeptical about having him work, but his father put in a great word for him. Look at us now.” The leader straightens his posture. “Young Matthew, I would like you to bear the responsibilities that Abel so readily discarded. I have thought carefully about who to pick, and I believe that you are the right man for the job. Are you ready to help the village, young man?” 

Matthew is beside himself. He couldn’t believe the leader was trusting him so much with the well-being of the village! Despite his apprehensiveness, Matthew agrees. He cannot wait for his life to have purpose. He cannot believe that he was finally referred to as a man. He has been waiting anxiously for this moment for what feels like an eternity. Eternity ends now. 

“To be young is to be useful,” Matthew told himself as he tirelessly plucked the weeds with his sweaty hands in the sweltering heat. He did not mind the fact that the sun’s rays were tearing through the thin fabrics of his clothes and piercing the flesh of his skin. He did not mind that the salt-ridden sweat from his brow kept getting into his eyes, causing them to burn hotter than the sun on his skin. He did not mind that he was out in the garden alone tending for crops that would feed the whole village. Hopefully he is doing a better job than Abel was, despite the beast of hunger thrashing in his stomach. 

To be young is to be useful. To be young is to be expendable.