Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 - Advanced)
Topic: Write for the BIOGRAPHICAL Genre (12/04/14)
TITLE: Bar-Itchy and the Babe
By alan kane
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This is the true story of Bar-Itchy, son of Itchy of the family Scratch-a-lot, one of the oldest, noblest families. Coming from an itinerant race, he moved around; you could say Bar-Itchy followed where the blood went.
I can’t say how long ago this happened, for we do not mark time in years, as humans do. We measure in life cycles but we have stopped counting now, as so many have passed since Bar-Itchy was feeding on a special donkey.
I normally would not say a donkey is special, but this one was chosen to carry a most spectacular load. This food source – sorry donkey, have to stop thinking of my stomach – had a young heavily pregnant lady on its back. Before you ask, no, we do not drink human blood, just animals’.
He thought he was just going on a short local journey, but not that day. They went miles and miles, so far that he nearly fell off. They finally arrived at a new town, only to be informed ‘No Room.’ Looking around, Bar-Itchy noticed many humans, more than would normally be in a town of that size.
He heard a man say, ‘Sorry, you will not find any room in Bethlehem due to the census.’
Thankfully, we fleas do not do such ‘census-less’ nonsenses. Sorry for my joke.
Finally, these people were offered a stable.
Bar-Itchy saw nothing wrong with that. A stable is warmer than some of the places he slept in.
Talking about sleep, Bar-Itchy had only just drifted off to sleep when he was startled by a wailing noise. Jumping down from his food source, he went to investigate. It was easy to see as the sky was so well lit up by a strange, bright glow. The noise was coming from a cute, new-born human; cute, but still too noisy when you’re tired. By the time he reached the manger where the new addition had been placed, the babe was just watching his surroundings.
Seeing Bar-Itchy, the babe smiled at him, making him feel so special.
You see, humans do not normally smile at fleas. They normally try to kill us.
It is at this stage, all flea-kind’s history changed forever. Bar-Itchy was not sure why, but felt that, even for a small human, real power radiating from this babe. This babe reached out and so gently touched him, not squished him. It was such a wonderful experience, one he would never forget.
The moment was lost when some shepherds came in, exclaiming some angelic beings had told them about this new arrival. Bar-Itchy was so disappointed, he felt this should have been his time but had to share it with others. He felt for this babe; deep down, he had a feeling that this baby boy’s life would not be his to live as he wanted, but had been pre-arranged for some much higher purpose.
Finally, the shepherds left, leaving the family. Others, who owned the stable, brought food for the family. That was nice of them.
Bar-Itchy finally got some sleep near his babe, until some strange, richly dressed men came in, presenting precious gifts.
Sadness flooded Bar-Itchy, for he had no gift to give. All he had was himself, for he would protect this babe with his life.
These men, who after celebrating this new babe, gave bad news. They told how some nasty human king wanted to destroy his babe.
He swore, ‘Let me at him … My babe should not have to die for the sins of another.’ But Bar-Itchy would willingly die for such an innocent.
As the family prepared to leave, the stupid donkey scratched and poor Bar-Itchy was stunned and fell off. When he came around, they were gone.
His heart broke in that moment. He wanted to stay near to this babe, who had so touched his life.
Unfortunately, he was lost to him. He was not called to lay down his life for this babe.
He never discovered what came of this babe, but he hoped others would find him.
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