War. Fear. Pain.


That was my daily life, since the last time I could see the day light, or even the moonlight. We were hidden in our little house, still in luck as we had been alive for an accountable period of time. Every second that passed, meant that we had tread over the next moment with our very lives dangling on a thin line between life and death.

Just a single bust of the door, or a deafening roar into our ears even before letting out the throes of our deaths, or just a heartbeat of a regular fearful period, we would lose our lives as a token of war. We would be just unnecessary sacrifices, sitting ducks waiting for time to tick us down.

It was only me, my father and my mother. My father standing guard with his trustworthy double barrel shotgun, for days and nights, he never faltered even a single bit, my mother would take a change when he needed some repose to regain his energy. Praying hard that nothing would hit during my mother’s turn. I was sitting there, helplessly, listening to the orchestra of impending peril wrought by the war.

BANG! This is it. My father fired a few shots into the enemy, but he was not accurate at all. The soldiers fired their AKs like a loose cannon, piercing every plaster, every wall, every furniture with their cold-blooded shots. Two of them marched into my direction, with my mother acting as a human shield wrapped around me. They did not even perplex, not even blinked for a second, and severed her with

BANG! BANG! BANG! ARGHHHHHH!!!! My mother’s shrill filled the air, sending both the soldiers into a standstill.

“Shit. We killed our people.” One of the soldier uttered, he was tall, bulky, bruised in the eye.

“My God. Why didn’t you survey first?” replied with the other voice, deeper, more bass, with a tinge of compunction.

They slowly approached me, I was engulfed by the very sight of having my father’s brains blasted out right of his skull, his innards torn apart by the sheer impulsive force of the bullet, my mother dying in spite of protecting me, soddening me with a copious amount of blood, innocent blood, her body literally was shot into pieces. Everything happened in front of me, pock-marked my very brain.

An intelligible force brewed inside me, growing at an immense speed, I felt juiced by the unknown power inside me, an unstoppable power. Their voices were muted out by my system, tears rolled down my cheeks, of blood. A surge of energy, more impactful than the usual adrenaline, gushed down my system. I had lost command to my body, it moved by itself. I sprang myself into one of them, snapped his neck, the other one was shell-shocked. Grabbing the AK laying next to the dead body, I fired at his forehead, deeming him dead by the very second. I leapt unto the dead soldier who shot my parents dead, fired a couple more rounds into them.

My consciousness dimmed out.

As I woke up, I had the knowledge of my parents dying in front of me, and the vivid images of me killing both of the war soldiers flitted across my brain. I cried in agony, the fear brewed inside me. Not fear, it was pain.


Craving for more? Down below:
The Going Gets Hard. (February Goals)
We See A Different Rainbow.
Recalling, Overcoming.
It Takes A Lot to Jump
Breaking Free

Published by zeckrombryan

Hope. Joy. Feelings cloaked as words.

17 thoughts on “War. Fear. Pain.

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