A Songfic inspired by the Genesis Song Squonk. The story is told through two voices. A Squonk and the Squonk Hunter. Squonks were once an ugly creature who spent most of its time living under the rocks of hot springs in the wilderness. They’d hidden away in their small communities keeping away from others, content on living life in their own way. We were a peaceful species, never causing anger and distress. Then one day a group of humans found us under our stones. At first they treated us well curious of us. One day, legend has it, their tribal leader fell ill and was close to death when one of the Squonks showed the humans our unusual trait. You see a tear from our eyes had magical properties and could cure others from even the deadliest diseases.


6. 5 - The Squonks POV

‘They’ve found a new place for us in Ireland’ my mum said putting the phone down.


Leaving and starting a new life is never easy. You just get established make some friends and you have to wrench your life up from its roots and plonk them down in another place. I’d lost count on the number of friends I’d made and lost. We always left so quick that I couldn’t tell them. Heaven knows what they thought of me, leaving and never contacting them. Here I’d made a really good friend, Christina. She and I would spend loads of time together. For the first time I thought of a girl being more than a friend. I think we both thinking the same thing. I really didn’t want to leave her now.


I was angry with my mum. How could she rip me away again? Why the hell did she have to heal these people all the time? It had been her fault my dad had been stolen from us. We presumed he was dead now, the Squonk council had listed him as missing. I hoped he was OK. A few tears leaked out as I thought again of him and the thought of leaving Christina.


I knew I couldn't contact her, that was always against the rules. I often wondered what everyone thought when we left. Did they think about me, or did they put it down to that weird family that were once here?


In spite of my anger I placed the tears into a vial to be used later. I still obeyed the doctrine that a tear spilt in vain was a life lost. 

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