Deep inside the Kahliquii jungle, near a shallow pool, sat a village. The village was hidden. I can still remember the sound of the running spring and the echoes of bird calls. I lived in a hut within the village of Kahliquii with my mother and father. I did not have any brothers or sisters, and most of the people in Kahliquii were older then me, and much wiser.
It was easy for me to behave like an amicable villager. I never had a vexatious example to learn poorly from. Not a thing I did or said was scrutinized. In my village, I was faultless. My whole life revolved around the good. I was taught to do the right thing. Yet, the more I was forced to solicit goodness, the more I loathed it. I wanted so baldly to be as nefarious as a lion. As soon as I got the chance, I planned to flee the village. My abilities in the village were becoming ineffectual and I needed more than that.
I left my whole life behind in the Kahliquii village. I wanted more for my life, something I could advocate for. I needed other people that I could teach and give guidance to. Growing up was the missing piece to my puzzle. The tribe gave me only one path to follow in my life. It does take a village to raise a child, but the child isn’t raised to be a villager.