Balsamico Kingdom , North blue
In the Balsamico Kingdom, a land famous for its endless farms and fields. The most people who lived here were farmers. Their whole lives were connected to the earth. They understood the language of the sun and the rain and they knew the joy of a good harvest. They know how to grow good and more food from the land. They loved the smell of the rich dark soil after a storm and the beautiful sight of tiny green seeds pushing their way out of the ground and reaching towards the sky. The land was like a kind mother to them. It had always given them everything they needed.
But now their mother is being used to hurt them.
For four long days they had been prisoners in their own fields.
soldiers who called themselves revolutionary army had taken over whole kingdom. From the moment the sun peeked over the horizon until it disappeared at night the puppet soldiers forced the people to work at the fields.
The people were weak. Their heads felt dizzy and light from hunger but still they had to tend to the crops. They watered the thirsty vegetables with their hands shaking. They pulled the pesky weeds from around the cornstalks. They picked juicy fruits from the trees. Their hands which used to work with the gentle love of a gardener to his flowers now moved slowly like broken machines.
But this is not the worst part.
The worst part, the part that felt like a special kind of torture.
they were surrounded by food. Everywhere they looked there was something delicious to eat. There were rows and rows of bright red tomatoes shining like jewels in the sun. There were big leafy green vegetables. It was a paradise made of food and the people of Balsamico were starving to death right in the middle of it. The soldiers took everything they harvested and leaving them only a one bread each day.
An old farmer a man named Karl was on his hands and knees. For over sixty years his family had worked this very piece of land. He was pulling weeds from a row of potato plants. His stomach ached with a deep hunger. the pain is so constant that he had almost forgotten what it felt like to be full. He could smell the earthy scent of the potatoes hiding in the ground right under his hands. It was a smell that used to fill him with happiness and pride.
Now it was just a painful reminder of what he could not have.
'Just one, just one time only this is first and last time' he thought to himself.
His hands trembled as he looked at the dirt. 'Just one tiny potato. I could hide it in my pocket. My dear wife… she hasn't eaten anything but that terrible bread in days. she is getting thinner every morning i see. Her smile is gone because of hunger. If i give her this potato she will definitely become happy'
He remembered his memorable days with her on this field. He remembered her laughing as they gathered potatoes for the harvest. The thought of bringing even a small piece of that joy back to her in the form of a single potato was too tempting to ignore. It would be too easy for him.
He looked around his eyes darting back and forth. The guards walked left and right their faces was expressionless but their eyes can see everything. Still the hunger and the love for his wife were a powerful voice in his head shouting louder than his fear.
With a trembling hands he carefully dug his fingers into the soft dirt around a small potato plant. His heart was beating like a drum against his chest.
Thump-thump-thump-thump-thump.
He felt his fingers touch something round and firm. He gently pulled a small perfect potato from the earth. It was still covered in dirt. But to Karl it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
He quickly tried to shove it into the pocket of his worn-out pent.
But at this moment a solider shouted towards him.
"Stop."
The voice was as flat and cold as a stone. It came from right behind him.
Karl froze completely, his hand still in his pocket clutching the little potato. The feeling of hope vanished now it is replaced by a cold wave of pure terror.
A soldier was standing over him and blocking the sunlight which was giving light to the karl. The soldier's cold eyes stared down but not at Karl but at the bulge in his pocket.
Karl did not even have a chance to speak. He did not have chance to beg or to explain.
The soldier grabbed him by the arm. The grip was like iron. there was no human warmth in it at all. He was pulled to his feet and dragged to the edge of the field.
All the other workers stopped what they were doing. their faces turning pale with fear as they were forced to watch what is happening.
"This man is a thief," the soldier announced. "He has tried to steal food from the revolution. The revolution provides for you. The revolution gives you what you need. To take more for yourself is to be greedy. Greed is an enemy of the revolution. And your greed is a threat to the revolution."
Two other soldiers marched forward with carrying a large heavy sack between them.
With a loud thud they dumped it on the ground right in front of Karl. It was filled with potatoes. Big, small, round, and lumpy potatoes of all shapes and sizes tumbled out onto the dirt.
"You are hungry for potatoes," the soldier said in its cold voice. "So you will eat potatoes."
The soldiers grabbed Karl and forced him down to his knees in the dirt.
One held his head still while the other picked up a raw dirt-covered potato. Karl tried to struggle but he was old and weak from hunger. And the soldiers stronger than him.
They forced to open his mouth and started shoving the raw potatoes inside. He choked and gagged on the bitter taste of dirt and raw starch. He could not breathe.
His eyes filled with tears and he looked out at his friends and neighbors. He saw their faces twisted in silent horror.
They were watching a man killed by the very food they had all grown.
After a few minutes karl died.