"War"
"A nightmare, they said. A tragedy, they said."
It is a ferocious beast greedily destroying everything in its way, enjoying those that just a mere second ago, were a place you called... home, pieces of memory you once cherished. All in its brutal satisfaction...
And then, in the end, what is left?
A shattered body full of wounds tries its best to gather the pieces of the broken memories, yearning with all its might to fight back against what people always call "fate."
What should it do?
No one ever told it what to do... Is this all its fault? It asked. War is a miracle of power, they said, such an inevitable one, they said. And that beast, with all of the wickedness, bent its horrifying body to keep on crashing on all hopes and dreams.
There will be hope, they said, everything will be alright in the end they said...
Then, where are those sweet, yet poisoned hopes, they said, it wonder?
O' hail the mighty King, the wisest of all, the one who walks among our lives to bring contentment. As mighty and wise as he is, then, why does the brutal beast called "war" still indulge in this very own sea of blood and pain with utter joy? The victorious yet sarcastic laugh looks upon the bodies of those it used to call "family" to satisfy what they called "power."
...How lamentable that shattered body is, how miserable, yet, helpless it is to be an unnamed pawn in this deadly game...
... And that happened to a once peaceful town, to a defeated body that had lost its faith and soul, called Theodore.
A morning like any other, with the sunlight resting on Mother's shoulders and the breeze tenderly embracing her neatly tied auburn bun. Humming a familiar tune in a low and sweet voice, Theodore fell into a sound sleep under Mother's warm stroke. And for Father, nowhere to be seen, nowhere to be found, with his usual excuses have always been for work. Yet, his adoration for Father never ceases to waver. Thinking this loving scene will remain unchanged, thinking his childhood will be as bright as the Sun.
Oh, how foolish this child was, they said, how naïve this child could be, they said...
And then, here comes the infamous "beast" with all its hideous looks, hungrily searching for its prey.
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Little Theodore shivered in fear, gripping his little hands so tight, desperately praying that God would somehow hear his voice at this very moment. "Please save my family... Please... end this nightmare... " The childish voice weakly echoed throughout the dark, dilapidated hideout. Above his head, Theodore could hear the cruel sound of the metal collision, the grating sound of guns mixed with the screaming of Mother.
The deafening sounds...
They flooded his immature mind, and yet he did nothing more than harshly cover his ears while curled up in the corner. He had no control over his now shivered, fragile body as if fallen under the curse of a wicked witch. The rusty smell of blood blended with the bitterness of death kept lingering in his nose. Cruelty reminded him of the weight of reality.
"Must not come up here." Those were the last words of Mother before Theodore was trapped under the basement in his own weakness.
...
Is it over? Theodore heard nothing, not even the slightest from above. As he was trying to get up and seek any clues as to what might have happened, a strange feeling reached his cheek. Traced along the direction of where that came from, through the lights from the cracks in the floor, Theodore noticed something that might have looked like a puddle, dripping drops. Theodore thought it was water, only to realize water normally wasn't that thick. The nauseous smells become even more intense, gulping Theodore from the inside, strengthening his doubts.
His dearest ones were dead.
Their bodies?
Lying on the floor.
Bullets?
Inside their head.
Agony and despair
They all hit him as soon as reality revealed itself
For they were all too much to bear.
Collapsed, burst out, and became numb.
It no longer matters if the enemy can hear his heart-wrenching tears. His world is now nothing but ashes. Everything that had slipped into his mind was shattered into glasses, mercilessly cut into his skin, leaving warm streaks of blood to gush out. Falling silently. Theodore could hear the remnants of Mother's gentle laugh, and Father's warm, assuring voice in the distance. Yet, why is the smell of blood still so strong?
Will it be alright if I follow you? Young Theodore looked blankly, tightly holding a sharp piece of something once called memory, his hand covered in wounds. Why not take me instead?
There's something stirring up inside that tells him to never stand down. A strange kind of power has emerged, piercing through thousands of layers of sorrow, a lightning rod. And even if he only noticed this for a fraction of a second, it now shed a gleam on this very land of darkness. Theodore eagerly clings on, as if it gives him another meaning, to continue his journey.
"No...I will not obey fate, even if I have to give up my life... Not like this..." Theodore slowly embraces all the broken pieces.
With blood and flesh, let there be light...
Oh, how innocent this child could be they said, how brave this child was, they said...