The doreite were a strange race considered inferior, so much so that even the others did not know what they could achieve or fail to do; they didn't care if they perished, they didn't consider them a threat.

Its population was counted on the fingers of ten hands; they were hidden throughout all kinds of kingdoms and, strangely, they collaborated with each other.

Many stole to survive; those who were caught died.

The other races had no mercy, they considered them less than cattle; they didn't even bother to enslave them, they were mere rats.

They were oviparous, they reproduced sexually and, in the days to come, they laid eggs: this helped them to transport their young easily.

Their tails were green like the leaves that bloomed in spring, they had pointed ears that looked like elves even though they did not exist in their world. Many times they were confused by demons, beings that had been extinct decades ago. Others thought they were a mutation of these, but no one knew how they originated.

Their average lifespan varied between zero to eight years: exceeding fifteen was a challenge.

The majority lived underground where their misery could be seen: both in the narrow alleys, the mossy brick walls, in their clothing and the tattered cardboard everywhere.

A doreite girl, seven years old, was dressed in a single torn greenish cloth, her body was dirty, with bruises on her stomach and neck; she was far from looking happy, she was also missing half of her tail, as if she had been forcibly torn off.

She had red hair and emerald eyes.

She was pregnant, could barely stand, and her body was close to being considered skeletal; she wandered until she fell to her knees and let out moans of pain.

Exhausted and lying down, she smiled, clinging to two slimy eggs with unparalleled affection until she passed out.

⸎

Her mother regenerated her tail after four years, and her daughter always held it by her clothes; unlike her, her hair was brown, looking orange.

Their clothes were dirty: stolen or taken from any dump. They wore a single simple piece: pants and short sleeves with a zipper on the blouse.

She caused problems for her people in order to survive with his daughter, so they traveled in search of food.

“Mom…” The little girl's belly roared; but her mother could not increase the meager loot that she got daily.

“I'm sorry… Mom will try her best, okay? Will Ramia also try hard?” she bent down and hugged her.

She nodded shyly. They were both babies, they could be mistaken for sisters.

Her mother always raised hope in the face of famine, but both were fragile.

⸎

A year later, they were sneaking into an alley above ground.

The buildings were made of marble, on the floor and on the walls a watery liquid ran through tiny channels, but toxic to consumers: it passed through amphorae placed on the streets that renewed them. It was a clean city.

The wind was pleasant and whistled softly along the walls; the sky, like the rest, was blue; and various flowers stood out from the ceilings. Compared to the dirty places they frequented, it was a different world.

They both wore a headscarf to hide their ears and, inside their clothes, their tails.

The race that lived there had a metal headband that stood out in front of their hair. There was a marble market down the street.

“Ramia, let's play a little. Do you see those boxes? When you pass in front of that man, throw them away and hide quickly. No matter what happens, don't let them catch you and don't respond to anything they say. If someone finds you, mom wins, okay?” She whispered.

Ramia nodded.

The mother did not want to teach her how cruel the world was.

After a few minutes, Ramia, with effort, pushed them near the alley and hid under an indigo metal garbage container. Her mother stopped worried for a few seconds when she saw that it was not an easy task for her.

One of the merchants turned around when he heard the noise, but saw no one. Another entered the alley, stopped near where he was and asked:

“Anyone there?”

Despite being different races, they spoke the same language, the doreite had no choice but to steal it, they did not live or cooperate long enough to invent one.

Ramia remained silent; the man, seeing that there was no response, replaced the boxes and left.

Then she met her mother again and she showed Ramia a couple of fruits:

“Tachan! You have done very well, Ramia.” With love she caressed her daughter.

⸎

Another year passed, her mother, at the age of thirteen, bet the crumbs of a bluish vegetable with three other doreita in a game.

Their bodies were thinner, sitting behind, was their little girl clinging to her fabric limply.

The others were around the same age or even younger than her mother.

“Hey! You cheated! Give me back my share, it belongs to me!” intervened one who realized the mother's tricks.

Everyone was in the same situation, food was limited: losing was equivalent to dying.

The young woman ate a piece, grabbed everything she could reach, and fled the room.

The others tried to follow her; but, as if it had been planned, her daughter pushed some boards from the entrance and slipped under the rubble.

One of the men grabbed Ramia's leg, but it was easily disengaged.

“Damned! Come back here! Give me my piece! I am going to kill you!”

Their complaints were offensive, but their bodies were so weak that they could not pursue them.

⸎

A few days later, when they returned, they were dead; Ramia approached one as if he were playing and shook his shoulder.

“Why do they smell so bad? Why don't they wake up?” She looked curiously at her mother.

“If you don't eat enough, you go into a deep sleep in which you don't wake up again.”

“Because?”

Her mother came over, hugged her and cried hard. The simple idea of ​​thinking that the same thing could happen to her daughter terrified her.

“I'm sorry… It's all my fault… It's not Ramia's fault…”

I didn't want her to be aware that stealing was bad but necessary, or that his actions caused others to perish; as girls, she felt the need to endure everything alone.

They did not even have the luxury of indulging in cannibalism, those who died were skeletal and the diseases they could develop put them between a rock and a hard place.

Their mother decided to live in that lonely place where only they were left.

⸎

Ramia woke up to a noise and clung to her mother who was sleeping next to her.

“Mother…”

She woke up to her scared and shaking daughter.

“What's happening?” “she asked exhaustedly with a sweet voice.

“I think there is someone…”

Her mother raised her head with an effort to look around; but she saw and heard nothing.

“Don't worry, it's the sound of the wind.”

“Mom…” she called her attention sweetly as she was caressed.

“What's happening?”

“I'm afraid…”

“Don't worry, mom is here, mom will protect you; she closes her eyes and rests.” With her hand she gently closed her eyes; Ramia, still afraid, became more attached.

⸎

Underground, in the center of a spacious hexagonal enclosure filled with grass, a huge tree with purple flowers pierced the ceiling, rising to the surface through an artificial hole through which natural light entered with views of the sky.

Near several piles of dirt, her mother was digging; Ramia approached her:

“Mom. What are you doing?”

“Ramia, when mom dies…” She shook his head, showed her a smile and corrected himself. “When the day comes that mom doesn't wake up, could you bury me in this hole?”

Crying, Ramia rushed towards her:

“I'll do anything, but don't leave me alone! Mom!”

Without her mother she did not know how to live, it was also inevitable for her to shed tears.

“Promise me that you will never trust anyone on the surface, don't let them see your ears or your tail. If you're hungry, grab all the food you can from the city. If they chase you, run away quickly. And never look them in the eyes,” she advised in pain, caressing her ears.

⸎

“Mom…” she called, resting on her mother's arm.

“Yeah?”

“Did mom also have a mom?”

She stated and started playing with Ramia's hair.

“She was… someone I appreciated and loved much more than anyone else.”

“More than Ramia?…”

She smiled and hugged her with both hands.

“No, Ramia is the one I love the most.”

“Ramia too.”

Her mother gave a small laugh.

“Eh!? Do you also love yourself more than anyone else?”

“No, Ramia also loves mom more than anyone.”

“I know~” She kissed her on the cheek and showed her a thin, square yellow piece of marble with a point. “This was a gift from mine, at this point the person you love most is sleeping, even if mom is not with you, she will protect you and you will never be alone.” She gave it to her and asked her to keep it as a treasure.

⸎

After a week, they were in one of the basement rooms.

“What are you playing?” She asked, seeing her mother removing the dirt from a small hole.

Her mother smiled in an act of hope.

“From this little piece of food, much more will appear from the ground,” she responded, burying a tiny piece of fruit.

“Oh, really!?” As they filled in the earth, they sat excitedly watching in silence. “Not yet?” she asked impatiently.

“No idea… I think a little more.”

Their bellies growled in anticipation.

They didn't know how long it took to grow a plant, they didn't water it or have access to light, it wasn't even the seed, days passed, without success. The only crops her mother saw were inside a glass building in the city.

⸎

Asleep, hugging her daughter, the little doreita had nightmares and squeezed her tighter. It wasn't the first night she saw her mother like this and she couldn't do anything to help her.

“No! Let go of me, stop! Mom!” She murmured.

“Mom, it hurts.”

She woke up in cold sweats and sat up.

“Ah! I'm sorry… Are you okay?”

“Yes. Mom?”

“What's going on?” She asked curiously.

“I love you.”

She cried with happiness, nodded her head and caressed her little girl's cheek.

“I love you too, more than anyone.”

⸎

The day before it rained and, under the big tree, her mother was collecting water with some buckets she left.

“Ramia, come here.” She approached and looked at her. “I'll teach you a trick that few people know,” she said proudly. She picked up a flower from the ground that belonged to the tree and left it floating in the water. “When you collect water, she leaves one of these flowers for half a day and the water can be drunk.”

“Really!?” She was excited, it was as if she was explaining a magic trick to her.

“And not only that~.” That same afternoon, she picked the flower and removed the dirty petals that protected the center. “Do you recognize this?”

“Water for the body!”

It was a kind of sponge, with one hand they extracted the clean water it produced by eliminating bacteria; they both shamelessly undressed and cleaned their bodies.

⸎

It didn't rain again for a year. Ramia ate sitting on her mother's lap:

“Mom?” she asked her mother, who was about to fall asleep. “You can eat my share…” Ramia offered, worried because she usually received a larger portion; despite this, they both had a bad time.

“I'm fine,” she lied, it wasn't strange if at any moment they died of hunger.

“Mom, don't leave me alone, don't fall asleep…” She lowered her head crying. She didn't want to lose her; her mother comforted her with a hug.

“Don't worry, keep eating. As long as you're fine, I'll be fine too~” With the tips of her fingers, she collected her tears and licked them in order to drink something. She didn't have the luxury of thinking if was wrong, she wanted to survive as long as she could with his daughter.

⸎

One day, the mother brought her a gift hiding it behind his back.

“Ramia, close your eyes.”

“What's happening? What's happening?” she asked again, intrigued, closing her eyes with complete confidence.

She placed on her head a gavroche cocoa cap that she found near the trash.

“Ramia, how cute you are!”

Embarrassed, she whistled clumsily, looking away from her:

“Really?…♪”

The mother hugged her full of love, having her was the most beautiful thing that had happened to her in her life.

⸎

Only a few weeks passed, the daughter woke up and tried to lift her mother; but, no matter how much she shook her, she did not wake up.

“Mom?…” she called endless times.

From that day on, she would be alone.

⸎

It was a morning of light rain with hardly any people; with fear and insecurity, she walked down the street.

Surreptitiously, she threw a stone at a box; the moment the clothesline was distracted, she ran and stole three fruits.

“A thief! Catch him!”

Unfortunately, she was discovered; but no one was chasing apart from him, some of them didn't even bother to help him, so she returned safely.

Once safe, it rained harder; thanks to the fruit she stole, she would survive for a while.

“You won't wake up again, will you, Mom? I only have this left over, I'm sorry…”

Depressed and with her hands dirty with dirt, she placed, as an offering, some seeds that she could not digest in the grave.

She also left some buckets under the tree for water and, tired, went to sleep.

The next week she cried when she saw several plants growing on her mother's grave. It didn't take long, but her growth was extraordinary, in two weeks it would bear fruit.

⸎

Ramia turned eighteen; She was picking some bluish fruits from some kind of apple trees. The enclosure was full of fruit trees that she took care of.

She didn't look like that skeletal girl, her body was healthy, she no longer had the need to risk her life by stealing.

She approached the grave and left one for her.

“I would have liked you to try them, mom…” She put his hand on the ground.

At one of the entrances, a man left after observing her for a while.

⸎

A few days later, she woke up in the middle of the night lying on the grave.

Their planet had no moons, but the leaves gave off a glow that illuminated the surroundings.

A man was standing, with clothes that covered his entire body. His brown hair was messy, he had a backpack and a metal anti-odor mask. He exchanged glances with Ramia, who was paralyzed when she saw those blue eyes that seemed to produce light.

…Who!? Someone from the surface!? Can't…

She fell asleep as if some drug had been applied to her.

⸎

She woke up confused, she couldn't think clearly.

She was looking at the floor in an empty, windowless room, the kidnapper was on her back organizing tools on a table.

She tried to move, in vain. She floated, tied hand and foot by marble threads; around her head was a scarf that held a funnel with a mouth that did not allow her to speak.

The man laughed secretly and talked.

“You don't know how long I've longed for this, you hide well for being scum.” He showed her the gift from her mother and asked: “Why did you keep this trash? Are you so stupid that you don't know what a stone is?” He threw it into the air and it bounced off the ground.

He grabbed the tail and rubbed it on his face, went to the table and picked up some strange scissors:

“Did you think I wouldn't find out about your secret?” He grabbed her tail and, without mercy, cut it off; With it in his hand, he rubbed it again.

She barely noticed any pain, it was like a nail was being cut.

“The smell doesn't affect you, huh. I always wanted to try this.”

In front of her, roughly, he grabbed her bangs to steady the funnel and let some greenish drops fall from the cut in her tail.

“Drink. It's good? Of course. How does it feel to take your own medicine?” He returned to the table, leaving the queue and laughed.

Ramia's body grew hot and her mind went blank; she was not someone who got excited by these things, she was discovering, in a bad way, something about her own body.

“Know? I admired my father, I wanted to be like him. One day he investigated your species with two little thieves they captured. Do you know what happened to him?” He approached and roughly grabbed her bangs; he looked at her like trash. “Of course you know that.”

In the same way he grabbed it, he let it go and fumbled on the table.

“That day they killed one of the culprits. The other escaped thanks to her friend; but she left something behind. The others did not give importance to my father's death, rather they made fun of him: as if a worm had killed him and it was a joke. Let's see who laughs now.”

He took the tail and poured several drops into a wax container with a lit candle inside: evaporating and achieving an air freshener effect.

He stood in front of Ramia and lifted her chin so she could look him in the eyes.

“Don't think I'll forget what you did. Don't worry, I'll find the rest and they'll suffer the same, including that rat. It's time to sleep, enjoy what you deserve, doreita.”

Sounding serious and unscrupulous, Ramia fell into a deep sleep.

⸎

His mind was blank. Greenish smoke drifted through the room.

Two naked men were dead on the ground.

She was on the floor untied with her clothes torn; several irrational men raped her. She couldn't move, she didn't even have energy, she only saw her hand holding the gift from her mother and her exit.

The masked man came in, approached her and made her drink again.

They continued for days, they would not stop until they perished together.