It’s been a long time since there’s been peace. 

The children dream of going outside, their parents wish for them to have a future, and the kingdoms pray for rain.

Young Penelope sits alone in the forest, the trees with their sickly branches, the leaves lucky to have already died before the drought. She lives near the border of the warring area. Does she know that the kingdoms blame the other for their time without water? She only turned twelve days ago. Children should never bear the burdens of their parents; but alas, she blew her candles and thought of rushing rivers, luscious plants, and the laughter that’d died so long ago.

She walks along the empty banks, her hands skimming the bark as it dries from dehydration. Never has she felt anger towards people; but it’s been hard not to. Especially when every day at home her family spoke of the propaganda the king gave them. 

How can it be their fault? She thought.

Young Penelope wasn’t angry at the other kingdom. How could she be? Children shouldn’t know anything; but alas, she was silent as she pleaded to someone—anyone—every night as she was reminded that one important element was taken away.

The birds’ whistle, the crickets chirps, the winds’ howl. Young Penelope loves being outdoors. She loved dancing in the rain.

Only if it rained again. She thought. Children shouldn’t be wishing for such things; but alas, Young Penelope thought of herself as more than a child. 

Suddenly, a sound came from her right. She looks toward the area and spots a boy not much older than herself. She spots a boy not much different than herself. His complexion, features, clothes, the way he holds himself. That made him different. He wasn’t from where Young Penelope was. He was from the other kingdom. Children shouldn’t take part in conversing with someone of different origin; but alas, some don’t care. 

“Water.” Young Penelope says. “It isn’t gone because of us is it?”

The boy looks at her as if she said something out of place. Perhaps he isn’t wrong. 

“Why not? Where else would it be?” He scoffs, “water keeps us alive. Just as it does that, it can drown us, boil us, and freeze us. It’s gone now because your kingdom has become too greedy. It’s expected too much to the point where water has gone away. A punishment for all of us.”

Their kingdoms have fought for years. She couldn’t blame him for thinking that; but she just saw things differently. “Water does more than that,” she states.

“It doesn’t matter now does it? It’s gone. And soon everyone will be too.” His face is full of hate. His eyes are blinded by anger. Young Penelope couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. She knew he had suffered in the ways she did. But she was never angry at people. No; she was infuriated by everyone who never sought for an answer and only for blame. Children shouldn’t point things out; but alas, Young Penelope wanted to make change.

“Water brings people together. Just as it hurts and heals. For better or worse. You cannot travel across the ocean without an ocean can you? You cannot use a river if there’s no river. Just as you cannot survive without it, everyone else can’t too. There are so many similarities between our people, and water is supposed to bring us together.”

“Bring us together? It’s gone!” He exclaims.

“Sometimes, things have to be taken away to make fools realize their mistakes. Sometimes, those fools need to listen to every single voice. Sometimes, being unified makes fools not fools anymore,” but alas, no one listens to children do they? Young Penelope knew that.