The village was devoid of any sharp objects, even pocket knives were confiscated by them- the soldiers. We had nothing to go against them, they had a well-equipped arsenal, at least better than a bare-handed person. We lived in fear, with the strict ration of one loaf of bread per family each day, and limited amount of water, we were barely scraping our lives through this treachery.

My thoughts were of this war would end sooner or later, it was later, even later than predicted, we had no access to the outside information, they even cut off our electricity supply once the soldiers took ‘guard’ of our village. They were fiend blood-thirsty beasts, they watched us suffered, tortured as something that meant nothing to them.

I only could clutch my fist together when someone in the village was picked out by random by the soldiers, it would be our turn soon, I looked at my family, all four of us taking shelter in this dingy house, dilapidated, partially destroyed, it was not even a shed to protect ourselves from the weather, it would be unfathomable what our defence would be against the soldiers. Our hopes were relinquished as ever, but we tried to survive each day, hoping for the hope de novo to be the grace of our lives.

We ate, we drank, we waited. A bang of dejection obliterated the front door of our shelter, our hopes, what have we done wrong to deserve all these? I questioned to the sky in agony as the soldiers marched into the shed with four of us, they were armed to the teeth. Even before recovering from the shock that they broke into our ‘safe haven’, even before having the thought of fighting back, they opened fire, spraying death right into us, three of us drop dead instantaneously, the time for shrills and throes were not even given to three of us, I glared at the abysmal pools of blood deluging the floor that I was standing on, knowing that I had zero defense, zero chance of survival, zero hope.

They reloaded, I stood there, accepting my fate. The soldiers kept their machine guns, I was still recovering from the shock of three sudden deaths of my loved ones, “Here’s a little gift from us.” they shot me in my thigh, my groin, the pain was excruciating, deadly, beyond the adjectives to describe hellish pain, it was pure, discernible pain dealt to me mentally and physically, crushing, tearing my soul into smithereens. I cocooned into a fetal position, praying was the last thing I did, hoping that these would end sooner, not later.

Risky

Craving for more? Down below:
Why Meal Prep?
Terrains of Colonies
A Letter To Students In Schools
The Internet and A Creator
Hardship vs. Grittiness
Redefining Pain, Life, Stress.
Untamed Libido (X-Rated)
Mind Over Matters

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