Ketu, the Tomb Raider -by Scott

My name is Ketu. I'm a proud Egyptian boy. My father is dying, I'm holding on to his cold chilly hand. Thoughts are running through my head. How will I survive? I'm sobbing as I watch my father struggle for breath; he is wheezing hard. He's looking paler and paler by the minute. I say to him, ''Hold on, Father. It will be okay.'' But, I know in my own head it won't be. He is in horrible pain; he wants to pass away. He can't stand it any longer.

Minutes later, he slowly passed away.

I wake from that terrible dream dripping in sweat. I've been having this exact dream for the past two months.

I wake up ready for school. I walk down stairs. "Do you want breakfast son?" my father asked.

"No, I'm not hungry." I continue walking, ignoring my father. I know he is mad at me for acting this way. It's not like I'm trying to be mean. I realize that we cannot afford more food. For this, I cannot forgive him. It was his fault we are poor; in life he made many unwise choices. He has kept us poor. I leave him and continue slowly walking down the path to school.

Finally, I meet up with my friend Sett. Sett is too short to be twelve years old. He has large brown eyes that follow me everywhere I go. He asked, "How you going?"

"Fine," I reply in a grumpy tone.

“You don't sound fine."

"Seriously, don't worry about me." We come up to the markets, I walk up to a fruit stand and casually snatch an apple.

"Why do we always steal?" Sett questioned. Sett probably feels bad being around my influence. He wants to be friends, but I wonder if he feels uncomfortable breaking the rules.

"Because I have barely any food at our house, certainly not enough to survive on anyway."

Sett nods. I don’t have to explain this to him, his life is the same. But he said what he always said to me, “Ketu, remember there are many ways to be rich.”


Sett and I arrive at school go our separate ways. School is the same as always since I started when I was 10 years old. Our teacher instructs us about the proper way to write. We copy and recopy passages until they are perfect. I am expected to try my hardest because my father paid his entire fortune for me to go to school. One day, though, I will be a famous scribe for the Pharaoh.

Later that evening I met up with Sett and we started to talk. Sett had a very solemn look on his face. "Hey Ketu, have you heard the news?"

"No, what news?" I asked.

"Well, King Tutkhamun has just died."

I froze as the news sunk in. I wondered how can this happen; he was only 18 and he always has body guards with him. He rides the fastest horses and is protected by the finest chariots. He eats well and has plenty to drink. "How did this happen?" I questioned still very puzzled.

"No one knows; it's still one big shock."

"Be careful, Ketu! Who knows what could be lurking around the corner. I will see you tommorow," Sett said, "Remember be careful!" he exclaimed. Sett was always worried about Ketu. He soon cut off to a different path to get himself home.

I couldn’t stop thinking about King Tut’s death. I was wondering, Was there a secret assassin? Could someone have killed out pharaoh?, Did he commit suicide? I continued walking extremely cautiously. I heard something in the bushes; I froze solid afraid to move. Then the noise grew louder and seemed to come closer. A shadow was starting to form. I thought, I should run, but what if he chases me? Is it the assassin? If I keep silent, he might go away. So I crouched down and kept quiet. No matter, it jumped from the bushes. I jumped and almost screamed. Then I realized it a cat.

Later that night I lay in bed awake; I was still curious about how our pharaoh died. Questions raced through my head over and over again. Then out of the blue a vision popped up into my head: Tuthankhmun's burial chamber! Everyone knew that the pharaohs were buried with more gold and food than pheasants had their entire lives. Everyone knew that the pharaohs took these things to their graves to help them in their next life. But, he hasn't done anything to help me or my father. He's just taxed us, taking more and more leaving us with less and less. I knew that I should not be thinking of stealing from our pharaoh, the son of Ra, but the thought would not leave me. I planned for many months and created a detailed plan of how I would steal from him. Soon his tomb would be ready and so would I.

My plan was set. The night before my departure, I slept very little. The next morning I got up before the sun had risen. I received only two and a half hours of sleep the night before. I was very nervous about what I was going to do. I didn't know if I should continue or not. I spent almost ten minutes arguing with myself. But when I saw our empty pantry and storage pots, I knew I had to do it. It wasn't an option. I stormed out of the house heading for the Valley of the Kings, rushing away before I changed my mind.

After almost four hours of walking under the boiling hot sun, I had arrived at the valley of the kings. The first thing I had to do was make my way through all these mazes. It took me about half an hour just to find an entrance. Once I found it, I had to use absolutely all my strength to open the door. I saw a long narrow tunnel that seems to go on to nowhere. I started to walk slowly and steadily. I was being extra careful not to set off any booby traps, I'd heard about them from my father. He knew many stories about tomb robbers of the past. Then the tunnel became smaller until I was crawling on my knees. I was scared, Am I going to make it? Will I make it out? I suddenly was faced with a dead end, and my heart sunk. I stayed there, just staring at the wall. Then I screamed out, ''I must not give up. I must not give up,'' slamming my fist against the wall. Then I felt a little grove in the wall, I put my hand in there and pushed to the left. The wall shifted and I knew that I had arrived at Tutankhamun's tomb.

A beautiful picture appeared in front of my eyes. What I saw was clothing enough to last a few months. There was so much food, delicious food fit only for a pharaoh. There was also elaborate jewelery, statues representing servants that would care for him in the next life, and beautiful pictures of scenes of daily life painted on the wall. In the center of the huge room was a box made out of wood with beautiful paintings on it. I knew Tutankhamun would be in there.

There was enough food in here to last me and my father for months. Plus all these clothes, I could change my clothes for once instead of wearing only these stinky old rags. Or, I could sell them. We would be rich. This thought kept running through my head. I walked up carefully to a pile of rare jewelery. The jewells shimmed in the light. I picked up a handful of jewelry. I said mockingly to King Tut, “You won’t miss this in the next life, will you?” Right there I had a thought. How would I like it if someone stole from my father. What if it was my father who was in that tomb? And then a more troubling thought came to me, How would it make my dad feel if he knew I was stealing? This thought clouded all the jewels and food that was within my reach. I knew what I had to do. I didn't have to be rich in money to make me happy, being rich in knowledge would be enough for me.

I walked away from the beautiful tomb. I walked away from what could have made my father and me rich. But as I walked away from my dreams, I knew it was my only option. It was the right thing to do. I left the tomb feeling that I had accomplished something great. I may be going home empty handed, but my heart and my conscience were full.

I arrived home feeling great. I yelled out to my dad. There was no reply, only an awkward silence. "Dad are you there?" Still, there was no reply. I walked in to the dining room. What I saw shocked me. My dad lay on the couch. I ran up to him as fast as I could. I knew he was in a bad condition. "Dad I will get you to doctor," I told him. "No son this is it for me," he paused for just a second, "Son, you know I've always wanted you to be happy, that's all I've wanted is you to be happy." This just the way I pictured it in my dream, but know I am not dreaming. He was wheezing hard. I started to cry and then and there he slowly passed away.

by ~ Scott