War is always glorified after the fact. When the dust settles and the deed is done, the world claims to never forget. But that’s exactly what they do. They forget. Every single time. But what of those that survive such atrocities? Do they forget? Twelve year old Jaene stares at the corpses of her family. Her father holding her mother whilst mother held her little brother. Their faces still etched with the horror they had endured.

Jaene’s tears ran dry hours ago. She simply stared. On her knees, she peers into the now soulless eyes of her family. The sound of helicopters flying above, and the gunfire far into the distance. It didn’t faze her. She was numb. She wanted to join them. She was alone. The girl took a sharp rock, aiming it at her neck. Her tiny hands shook as she pressed it against her skin.

“Just a bit further.” She thought. A bit further and it would all be over. She would go home. Home was her family. Her mothers meals and badgering. Her fathers physical affection, the piggy back rides. Her brothers smile, and his tiny hands reaching for her. She was almost there.

But she dropped it.

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She was a coward.

The girl was too selfish to reunite her parents with their daughter. To reunite her brother with his older sister. The dam broke then. Her sobs drowned out the sound of the violence around her, hugging her knees to her chest.

Calm footsteps sound behind her. She turns slowly, sniffling to view the unnamed person.

A man, dirty and bloody like she was. Unlike her, he was stoic and calm. His eyes scanned her as he approached, ending with him kneeling before her. Seeing the sight behind her, his hand outstretched, his cold gaze shifting to one of understanding. Despite the sight of a stranger, she took his hand pulling herself closer into a tight embrace. She sobbed into the strangers chest, her will shattering.

Eternal moments past before he speaks.

“It’s okay.” He said. His voice was smooth, and comforting.

“The losses will be avenged. It’s the two of us now.” He spoke, lifting the girl as he stood. He walked away from the destroyed home, holding the sniffling girl in his arms. As the two approached a rescue helicopter, Jaene lifted her head from his chest. Looking over his shoulder at the retreating sight of the battlefield. Her glassy eye reflected rage, and purpose.