I haven't written anything for Mother 3 in a while ...

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What did Duster do to ever deserve this hell?

What began as a 'simple cold' turned into a high fever. Sure, he kept saying to himself he was okay, he'll be alright, but strenuous activity that involved training his thieving skills promoted that 'simple cold' to an outright flu. He had practically fainted walking his way towards his friend Flint's house, and naturally all the villagers jumped right to his rescue to see what the problem was.

Three days, Three Nights. He had actually counted how many days, hours, minutes he had spent tossing and turning in his sweat-dampened bed. His mind was racing, he could still think, but his body wasn't properly functioning to address his needs. It took Kumatora 5 minutes to understand that Duster wanted a glass of water.

The Sunset went down on its 4th day of Duster's fever, and he was beginning to feel very differently. He began to become delirious, mixing up people's names and faces. Sure, in his mind, he knew who they were: Duster could always recognize the fluorescent pink hair Kumatora always wore. But something about his mouth wasn't working properly: Twice in one day, he had called Kumatora by a different name: Lilly, Hinawa, Tessie … for some reason, his mouth was not able to form the word 'Kumatora'. He hated it beyond all reasoning that he could not work his body the way he wanted to. All he could do is lay in his grey bed and suffer this Hellfire he was going through.

The 4th night came and went: Duster was still nowhere near being 'better'. Each hour blessed with consciousness, his visions would be blurred, his hearing would be blocked, and soon he found himself just wishing he could just die. He moaned all night about his whole body being in pain, although he had no clue weather he was merely dreaming it or if the pain was real. Either way: It hurt him all the same.

The sun had risen on the 5th day. Duster's body, becoming frail, found no will to move at all. His breaths became shallow and his whole body was covered with sweat. He opened his eyes and through blurred vision, saw Lucas and Kumatora looking over Duster. He saw Kumatora saying something to Lucas, although he had no idea what, and Lucas Shaking his head sideways. Kumatora rested her hand on Duster's forehead, what Duster counted as a single blessing, and proceeded to rub the sweat away from his hair. For once, Duster found himself smiling. After 5 days of hell, a simple move like that felt like an angel coming to him.

That euphoria didn't last too long. The skies had turned grey and the outside covered with small droplets of rain. Duster's mind began winding through his very life … was he actually going to die …?

"Duster … you need to hold on …"

Duster gripped an outcropping rock, and despite the rain, managed a heavy grasp on that rock. Duster looked down under him and found he was halfway up the face of the cliff; the very one he was climbing. He then looked upward and saw his father, waiting ever so impatiently for his son to reach the top.

"You need to keep going, Duster …" He heard his father say, "Don't you dare give up, or else, you'll have hell to pay."

Weather that hell was no supper or a fine beating from his father, Duster thought he could take it. He just did not want to climb up the face of the cliff anymore. He wanted to go home, home to his warm bed in the basement and sheltered from the rain. He could manage not eating for a day or being bruised for a couple of days. His small, child-like body just could not handle the stress of doing this task.

"Dad … I … I don't think I can make it …" Duster yelled desperately to his father, laying a hand on another outcropping rock, "It's … It's too high, and it's raining too … too hard …"

"I won't allow you to give up, Duster." Wes yelled. "If you ever want to be a master thief, you must train for every situation possible."

That's just it. He didn't WANT to be a master thief. He found no reason to follow in his father's footsteps if there was just nothing to steal. Besides, wasn't stealing wrong? All his life, everyone would tell him how it was sinful to take something that wasn't yours without asking for it first. So why was his father teaching him something that other people did not like?

Duster shook his head. It did not matter now. The only way out of this was either go up or down. He was only several feet away from reaching the top, and after that, it would all be over.

Hand, hand, foot, foot, one limb at a time, he scaled the surface of the cliff carefully. Just a few more feet …

He felt his foot slip on the slick surface of an outcropping rock. He was not prepared for the shock, and thus, his fingers could not get a hold on the smooth, wet rock he was holding onto. Before he knew it, he was falling.

He heard his name being called out as he landed on the ground. A loud crack. Pain. There was too much of it. He never felt pain like this before. He gave out several cries of pain, but none of them were answered. After one more cry of help, he finally lifted his head to find his leg bent way out of shape. He found his eyes being filled with tears in both shock and fear at this sight, and the pain it brought him. He let his head fall to the ground, his tears falling on the sides of his face, being washed away by the rain.

"Dad … it hurts …"

No one answered.

"Someone … help me …"

Still no call.

"I … I'm going to die …"

He felt his hand being squeezed slightly. He turned his head to the left, Kumatora was waiting there, smiling and crying. He was not in his child-like body any more: he was merely reliving the past …

"It's alright Duster …" He heard her say, "There's nothing to worry about, it will be alright …"

"It hurts too much …" Duster said, his voice cracked with fatigue and emotion, "I want it to stop …"

"The pain will end soon, Duster." Lucas's voice said from the other side of Duster. He turned his head once more and saw Lucas gripping duster's arm hard. He too was smiling, encouraging Duster to live on.

"You need to endure this …" Wes said from the feet of Duster, "You need to endure this pain."

Duster's eyes opened, seeing all his friends surrounding him. He saw that his Blanket was removed to reveal his weak and feeble body. His leg was no longer bent … all of that had been a dream.

"You fell asleep Duster." Lucas said from from Duster's right, "You were talking so much … it must've been a wild dream."

"Your fever's finally breaking." Kumatora said, smiling, "The Doctor said you need rest, and a lot of it, but you'll be fine."

"Guys … I …" Duster swallowed, his throat burning as he did. "I feel so tired …"

"Then you need rest, son." Wes said, walking into Duster's field of vision, "There's nothing wrong with rest."

Duster closed his eyes gently, letting dreamless sleep come to him.

He felt no more pain in his leg.

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My head hurts, guys ...