“What...what happened?” I ask with slurred words. “You passed out,” she replies.
“What happened to Nergüi?”
“Oh, she’s not here. She got sent to the hospital.”
She tells me what happened. “You passed out when you near our village. We brought you here.
Doctors said your friend got blood poisoning. Almost died.”
After a while, I fully regain consciousness.
4 Weeks Later
I have already fully recovered from my little illness and am living in a new home. Not an
orphanage; I’m in a foster home with Nergüi. Nergüi used to be athletic, and she stil is. Only in
a different way. She had a lower left leg amputation because of her blood poisoning, but can still
run. We’ve become closer to each other since the escape, and are now the best of friends. She’s
still lively - nothing holds her back, even with her injury.
Life is pleasant for us. We both go to school every weekday. On the weekends, we do homework
and help around the house. I feel very glad and lucky that I didn’t die in the Gobi, but I still feel
slightly strange every time I see Nergüi’s fake leg and think about how it became like that.
Our foster parents, a young couple, love us. It’s the first time I’ve ever had that feeling. You
know? Knowing that there is someone out there who you love and loves you back, and will protect
you no matter what.
