They say men who cry are babies, useless. Some people despise their actions. They don't want anything to do with an emotional man. They call them trainwrecks. They laugh, they gawk, they even tease. The media destroys the man's emotions. The man turns away and leads down paths of terror, dishonor. The more the heart struggles the more the man struggles. The heart's rhythm is controlled by the brain. But without a heart, the brain is nothing more than a useless organ. Every man who wanders into the world thinks of ordinary things. Those who wander into the path of war, fighting, misjudgment, become pained from the very beginning of conflict. Sadly, many do not recover.

 [Niemen]

"I just can't understand what made you do that?" asked Johnny. "The shit was fucking painful!"

"Calm down, Johnny!" laughed Corey.

The morning was cold. Easter Sunday is the most impactful day of Corey's year. As someone who attended church frequently, he was next up for pastor of his family's small Pentecostal church. He and Johnny have been friends since preschool. His mother and Johnny's mother were longtime friends.

Corey adjusted his reading glasses. His blue polo t-shirt was too big for him, and his cargo pants drifted in and out as the wind blew. He wore a Detroit Red Wings beanie to cover up his black, slick hair. They stood on the sidewalk next to Johnny's father's computer repair shop. Resting on the brick wall that divided the store from a smoke shop.

"Corey," Johnny said. His face was red with anger. "Fuck you."

"Why do you swear so much, Johnny?" asked Corey.

"Corey, not right now, man," Johnny gasped. "It's freezing, and you did this?"

"Punishments are meant to be taken," Corey replied.

"But an Indian-burn in record cold weather?" Johnny shouted.

Johnny's right arm was painted red. He used his gloves to pat the stinging sensation, but it was of no use. The day went on as Corey headed toward the church. Following him for the first time in a long time was Johnny. Johnny wasn't much of a religious man, but he had nothing to do and was already out of the house. Instead of the usual Easter Sunday attire. Johnny rolled up in black sweatpants and a winter coat, and just under that winter coat was an explicit white T-shirt. He wore a black beanie to cover up his curly hair. His skin was pale from being outside in the freezing cold.

Fake smiles and nervousness were the stars of his show. Walking into the small church on the corner of a quiet neighborhood. The wooden chairs were double-columned, with a short walk to the altar. Jesus Christ stretched on the cross at the back of the altar with angels floating all around him.

"Brother Niemen," called out a man in a nice black tuxedo. "I haven't seen you in a long time."

"Ah, yeah," Johnny replied.

"You probably don't remember me," the man said. "But I knew your father since your birth and spoke to him frequently before he was shipped off."

"Oh," Johnny said.

"Yes," the man said. "In a world like this, a little praise and worship is all we need."

Johnny didn't say anything. The mention of his father was already a bit too much for him. The nature of the conversation took a sharp turn. Thankfully, Corey stepped in to speak about a scripture he wanted to read during the service. Johnny gritted his teeth, still trying to remove those words from his mind completely.

The church was dark. The lights weren't fully working, so they flickered. The city itself has had poor electricity since the war began. Frequent news came in about scheduled power outages for energy conservation. The colder it gets, the harder it gets to live. The summer is also the same. But the bright side is that since the war began, the summers have become colder.

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The church service went on. Johnny sat in the back as the pastor, Corey's father, spoke to the sixteen people in the church. Many people don't go to church anymore ever since the videos of what the invaders do to people with religious beliefs in their controlled cities. Including that is the large rise of anti-religious people in the country. The words spoken by the pastor went into Johnny's ear and flew right out. His emotions didn't change as he stared down the aisle without a thought in his mind.

The service ended abruptly. No offerings, no closing prayer. A wailing sound came from everyone's phones reading the war progression.

Corey walked over to Johnny as the messages read about a new problem and a decrease in soldiers. Many people in the church murmured to one another as the atmosphere changed drastically.

"Thirty-three thousand dead in a five day battle?" Corey murmured. "You think they'll start the draft again?"

"That's what I hope won't happen," Johnny answered. "No need to continue the dead legacy."

"Everyone, please listen up," announced the pastor. "As of now, I'll have to conclude the service until next Sunday. Please have a wonderful Easter and cherish it with your loved ones."

"I guess that's my call to leave," Johnny said. Fist bumping Corey as they said their goodbyes.

Walking on the sidewalk and kicking the small fragments from the chipped concrete forward. The weather stayed cloudy, the wind blew heavily, and the atmosphere outside was quiet as if it were an old western movie. The house Johnny and his family lived in was small, but not cramped. It has been in their family for generations. It was a lucky charm, as his grandfather would tell him. Except that the luck that was once gloated about had simply run out.

"Stupid key," Johnny sniffed. His nose was glowing red as the cold weather took a toll on him.

The door opened, and a rush of heavy perfume, cigarettes, and weed filled Johnny's nostrils in an instant.

"Ah, John John's back!" screamed Johnny's younger sister. She was the youngest of the four siblings Johnny had. Her enthusiastic energy is what helps Johnny function in a household that is unstable.

"Hey Cheesehead, where's Ma?" Johnny smiled.

"She's in the kitchen speaking to a man," she replied.

Johnny looked annoyed. A concerned expression scribbled across his face as he moved toward the broken door that led into the dirty kitchen. At the table, two men sat across from his mother. Their expressions are grim. His mother, sitting the closest to the entrance of the kitchen, was balling tears.

"What's going on here?" asked Johnny.

The two men, who were wearing military formal uniforms, stared at his mother in discomfort. Every time they stood up, she ordered them immediately to sit down. Their faces were red as they sat at the table, the sobs of the mother echoing throughout their ears.

"This is how you would feel in my shoes!" she screamed. "How could you do such a thing? What have I done?"

Johnny did not understand the problem, but judging that it had something to do with the military, he only suspected one thing.

As the third sibling of four, Johnny has two older brothers and a younger sister. The oldest is 21-year-old Mason Niemen. He enlisted in the military a few months after the invasion. Mason was eager to follow in his father's footsteps. Although he went in a different direction, he was still determined to make their father proud. Sadly, Mason has been M.I.A. for the past year. No knowledge or location was given in regards to his whereabouts. The second oldest was named Giovanni. Giovanni was two years older than Johnny, who is 17. Giovanni was drafted a few months ago. Once his class went through, they halted the draft until further notice. Giovanni and Johnny were close. They used to get in trouble together, take care of their little sister, and play on the same team throughout their lives.

Now Johnny stands at the entrance of the kitchen. The amount of tears flowing from his mother's face could make a new river. The two men stood up as they repeated their condolences and gave her the information she'd need. She screamed and insisted they sit down until she said so. The two men disregarded her orders and kept repeating themselves.

"Can anyone tell me what's going on?" Johnny asked.

"They killed Gio; they killed him!" she screamed. "Those sons of bitches! I'll have your neck! My baby is gone, and all you can fucking say are words you most likely read out loud in your lousy car!"

"Geegee is dead?" questioned Johnny's little sister, whose name is Gabriella.

Johnny's body shivered. At this time, he knew he had to take control of the situation. His mind was only fixated on helping his mother and his sister. On a day like no other, the luck of this house has died out and will stay dead till further notice.