I stink. My stench gone bad to the point even rats avoid this spot. When was the last time i took a bath? Few days? Months? Years? I can't remember because even finding food to feed our grumbling stomachs is hard we're even lucky to feel the shape of a cold bread not the warmth from an unexploded bomb. My feet went numb days ago and I'm starting to lose the sensation of my arms scavenging for things to warm my body. These thins arms.. Such useless fingers. My sister, who is two years younger than i. Crying and begging as she got dragged away by scary looking terrorists while i ran from terror from fear that they will DO to me what they will DO to my sister. I am a bit young to understand these things but i had no choice but understand. They did those things to my neighbors. I saw them dragging my friends and playmates out of their homes. Shooting the males and carrying the women. Whenever i imagine that my sister met the same fate makes me fill with self-loathe and a sense of powerlessness for why do we have to suffer!? I already lost my father and mother so why!? God!? I pray everynight to you, praying that my ONLY family gets safe and our bellies to be filled. Is that TOO much to ask?! God... Please, even if i must die in exchange for my little sister's happiness I'm willing to do so.
Crash!
No! In the middle of my self-reflection i didn't notice that somebody broke down the stacks of wood i barricaded at the door. That's my last line of defense! My only defense.. God! I didn't realize that the windows are blockaded by debris now i can't get out! No! No! I don't want to die here!
Boom!
"Chael! Hurry up! Some shitheads are making their way through the alleyways!"
"Oh really? Well won't you quit yapping your mouth and start f*cking them with your bullets instead, huh!?"
"Stingy as ever, just hurry! We don't have much time- shit! Jones! Blow that up!"
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
Loud gunfires near came from just outside followed by people shouting at each other with words i don't understand. They might be them. No, it MUST be them! I heard those people shouting those words too. Hiii! Don't come! I-I need to protect myself. T-the kitchen! Yes! There's a knife. Just as i armed the crude and full-of-dust blade by my thin arms i waited beside by the broken door, ready to stab people who will come inside. Although my strength is even weaker than a 5 year old a stab in the neck can kill instantly, i saw that from a guy who killed a terrorist. Stab it once and let them to shake on the ground, that's how it happened and i hope this does too.
My heart is beating fast, faster than it ever did. My hunger is quickly dissipating being replaced by anger and anxiety but importantly this mysterious feeling to stab a person. It feels icky and evil for some reason, but whatever it is i hope it's helpful to save my life.
Creak...
"Helloo.. Anybody home.. "
There! Right between his scarf. Even though i can stab him in the head because he has no head protection (Helmet) i still aimed at his neck to end it instantly. I resolved myself for blood spraying across my face like what happened to that guy. But. There's no blood. And not even the sensation of the blade cutting through his neck. I can't even feel my arms anymore as i completely went limp and fell down. But a surprisingly lean arm reached towards my back and lifted me up like a bag.
"Wow! Next time you knew you try to be 'Calm and Easy-going' then you got showered by prickly killing intent. You know what I'm never going to take advice from that assh*le Afro kid."
The guy who appeared was a tall and lean man with a face that i only see in teenager's magazine is he a terrorist? But why is he so young? Could he be like me? Is he a prisoner forced to fight? But how can those small hands catch the knife unguarded? The boy turned to me as i looked at his hand holding the knife.
"Oh. What? You need this sh*t? Sorry to break it to you but this crude blade stinks and so do you! Seriously let me get you a bath."
I stared dumbfoundedly at his words of insult that feels like it came from the bottom of his heart. But at the same time i feel that he is kind, thousand times kinder than those terrorists that all that want is to use me as their toy and eventually break me. I can't help but to cling onto him and cry for help. But i can't seem to speak words as my throat stuttered a few.
"a... h ...el... m.. p."
He immediately reacted and put his face near my mouth despite saying that i stinks.
"Oi oi! Did this gal just died? What the f*ck!? Seriously? Come on don't f*cking make me waste the time spent to come here! Hey! Get me a Lerdoll Mask."
"It's Laerdal! C'mon Sergeant! Bring him the toys!"
"R! "
My head feels light, and my vision is slowly fading. Cloudy... The last thing i saw is a glimpse of a dome shaped beak and it being placed over my mouth and nose, then i sleep.