I wanted to try something else in first person since my best writing comes from that form. I would like your comments about this story, and if I should continue it.

Monkey

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Balti's POV

It was cold on the mountains this time of the year. Everyone seemed to be huddled up in parkas and wolf fur to stay warm. Tourist roamed the hillsides, taking photographs of the beautiful peaks. Toura told me that they would knock on the door to her hut and ask her to take their picture for some money. She told me that she had ten dollars in American money already. She would say to me "Balti, American money more money here than there. Isn't that weird?"

I didn't like to be around people. I liked to think to myself, and talk to the birds and animals in the green forest near the foot of the mountain. I knew they would listen to me, and not tell my secrets like Toura did with her boyfriend Grom. I liked to hide from Toura every chance I got, because she liked to talk about other people that I did not know. My mom said Toura was a flabber-mouth which meant she said stuff that wasn't true. It seemed that everyone else thought that Toura told the truth when she had told them that I had a doll of everyone in the village that I could prick with a pin and they would hurt.

"Look there goes Balti, he's a wolf boy you know. Knows black magic, don't want to mess with him."

"Did you hear? Balti is the one that made Kentu's arm sting with pain when he travel with oxen. Because of Balti, my Kentu is dead in the river."

My mom would hold me and tell me that she loved me and that's all that mattered. It didn't stop things from happening though. Toura would come over and ask if I could hiking with her into the mountains. My mom would tell her what a bad girl she was for spreading lies about me and that she hoped that one day I would be bigger than her so I could give her what she deserved.

I never understood Toura or my mother.

I am aware that I am adopted. My mom has told me so. She has also told me that she used to live in America until she came here to where we live now. She said she's what they call a missonary. She told me that she's the one who taught the villagers how to speak english, and that she wishes she hadn't teached Toura. I agree.

One day she told me that some of her friends were coming to see how big I had gotten. She also told me her friend had a daugther that she was bringing along. I was excited. I would have someone to play with that didn't believe Toura's stories. I went into the forest and found a branch. With my sharp knife, I carved at that branch until I had made a dear's body. I made a little hole in it so some cord could be strung through it and she could wear it as a necklace.

The day arrived when the villagers ran down the mountain to see the vehicle that they had come it. Everyone's hand seemed to slide across the shiny black surface. My mother with me by her side, made her way throught the crowd and helped her friend unload thier suitcases. That's when I saw her.

It seemed like one of those moments where time seemed to stop and turn black and white, and only the two of us were in color. She looked a couple of years younger than I, but she smiled at me. Her red hair bounced, and there was a hole where one of her front teeth was missing. I had never seen anyone with such radiance. I knew, once I became a man I would confess my love to her and we would marry and our children would have that same red hair. The same color that I love so much.