The Foreigners Of Oz

Sara is a young, misunderstood girl. When at the edge of giving up, she finds hope at a new environment: The Land Of Oz.

When she meets Dylan, a boy from earth who has been there as long as he can remember. They will go through some twist and turns.

But will the new friends ever go back home?

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8. Chapter Eight "Rainy Days"

Dylan

I hear the rain hitting the roof in such a hard, yet peaceful way as me, my father and Sara are just having breakfast.
My father never liked the rain. That's why he isn't at work today. He never goes to work on a rainy day.
I watch as Sara drums her fingers on the table, seeing how she is looking deep in her thoughts for something to say.

"So Sara, when are you deciding to become citizen? It's been two days now." He says. Sara looks at me for approval. I give her a look, urging her to not do it.

"Umm, Mr. Georgie, me and Dylan sort of had an agreement that I remain a foreigner." I'm relieved once she says that. I know she's smart, but I thought that she would change her mind. My father comes closer to her to whisper,
"Look Sara, I was hoping that once he sees you become a citizen, that you could help me convince him too. Because, I know how much he cares about your opinion better then mine."

"I'm not doing it!" I snap. he looks at me with an expression of shock.

"Dylan, now why are you so stubborn? You have to do it sometime now, because you're not leaving!"

"Father, I'm not going to let Sara have any regrets, because one day if she goes back, I'm going with her!" I say, I'm not going to let her leave me. I don't wanna be without her. It's like she has showed me new things, new ways. What kind of man will I be without her?

"Dylan, now aren't you being a bad host making this argument when you should just be listening to me in front of this beautiful young lady? He says. I catch her cheeks turning into a rosy color as she blushes. I take a deep inhale.

"You're right, father. I'm being disrespectful." I admit.

"Why don't we discuss this in the room?" He suggest.

"Ugh fine." We walk out of the living-room going into his bedroom.

"Would you like something to drink, my son?" He offers.

"Thank you father." I say. He hands me the the drink. I take a gulp. Suddenly I feel very tired.

"So what would you like to talk about father?" I say under a yawn. Then I'm being pulled under sleep.

"I don't mean to harm you son, but this is for the best." He says before I fall asleep.
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