The sun gazed upon the still waters.
I sat there, on the water’s edge, fixing my wrinkled eyes on the beams of broken light that reflected from the river that surrounded my hometown.
I must have sat there for hours, thinking back on my life; most of these memories were comforting, but most of them not.
Once I was a responsible Grandfather, I believed that somewhere in our distant third world country, there would be hope for our village; that we wouldn’t have been crossed by the rebel armies that tore my life limb from limb.
I continued to stare dreamingly into the razor clean water, the river blossoms cut through it like hot knives, as I dipped my finger into an endless abyss of immortal liquid creating a wave of ripples, which repelled from my scrawny finger.
I began to raise my aging head, slowly I stared into the distant sky; focusing on the miles of blue atmosphere, praying to myself that it had all been just an instant dream.
It had been last week that the world ended for me; I had a responsibility, a privilege to lead a caring life.
His name was Bi’nh; he stood for the peace and stability of my carefree life.
He had a resembled most of his family to my knowledge, such as his eyes that twinkled which gave a calming sensation every time you looked into them, just like his mothers.
His hair was fewer for his age but very thick, the dark brown crop in the top of his head stood messy and free like his father.
It had been a year since they had been murdered by scavenging rival villagers; they did their best to protect us; me and Bi’nh had been secured in the hut while the fight had been going on but the loss was so tragic I can’t explain it.
It had from then on just been him and me, an unlikely match, both unaware and bewildered at the life that had just been set for us.
He would live on my back, tucked up in a bundle sack. He had been too young of age to walk; he had gone everywhere I went.I was his burden and he was mine, we enjoyed the company and disliked the loneliness.
All we had was each other.
It had been raining all day, I could feel a slight blow of wind brush the hairs that lay on my neck; making them stand on end and make my spine stiffen up as if been frozen.
Bi’nh had been sleeping, peacefully by the open fire that blazed in the middle of the small, decrepit hut that sat in the centre of our tiny, forgotten town.
Rain patted heavily on the bamboo walls of our shelter, as I gazed into the fire that expelled grey, swirling smoke into the roof hatch.
I had been thinking back to when my life had more overwhelming happiness in it than the unwanted gift of sadness that I felt in my slowly beating heart.
I pictured the long green trees that surrounded us in the summer, the pink blossoms blooming on the river next to my hut.
My eyes had slowly begun to close.
I continued to look back into my distant past, my youth, which seemed to have drained out of my flesh in an instant.
My eyes had nearly completely rested.
I had begun to picture my past self when my daughter had been born. It was the greatest gift I could have ever been placed into my nearly lifeless hands.
I remember looking at the bundle that was presented to me so neatly; the little entity told me in my head that life was worth fighting for if it meant achieving this moment in time.
My eyes had now been entirely at peace.
It was then, as I shut my eyes that the first scream blared into my ear like a bad dream just awakening from its daylight slumber.
Gunshots could be heard from the house next to me, I had already jumped to my bare feet when I heard the first bullet leave the chamber.
I picked up my responsibility gently, placing him into the basket that surrounded Bi’nh in six layers of soft tranquillity.
I grasped the wooden handle and began to walk quietly to my only existing window.
I peered out and with a gaze of unsatisfying disgust, focused on the bodies that lay before my little house in the pouring rain.
Thick, creamy mud surrounded, the faces of my fellow villagers, I couldn’t identify which friends were alive or taken from me.
I began to stumble back, suddenly letting go of the basket that carried the small slumbering baby.
I needed air, my mind had warped and all I could think about had been the horrifying image of the bodies that had lay before me.Crawling out onto the entrance of my tiny house, I began to take the deep breaths I had been asking for, inhaling my lungs with precious fresh air. I opened my eyes slowly; water had been running down my face.
I stared at the sky that was covered in think grey clouds. My eyes began to blink wildly as falling rain patted onto my pupils like trotting feet.
Letting my head drop as if been snapped of its strings I looked at the ground wooden patio, I followed my eyes as I looked at the steps of my little house, and led my eyes down to the flowing river of thick brown creamy mud, that flowed before my house.
I suddenly looked to my left to see something flowing along in the water; it resembled the wine that I drowned myself in the spring times of my forgotten birthdays.
It flowed past me like in a deep, dark red form, swirling gracefully as if high on joy.
And suddenly, with an unexpected but mostly unwanted blast of horror, a gunshot.
It shocked my nerves that only a whipped donkey would react.
My eyes opened widely and I began to look beside my soaking body as I watched a familiar entity leave my quiet little house.I think red line left my house doorway, neither fast nor slow, but at a pace that I any guardian of a child would find unbearable.
And like a reunion of long lost relatives the thick red line patted onto the first step of my patio.
My eyes had slowly begun to close.
The red line patted onto the second step of my wooden patio.
My eyes were nearly completely rested.
The red line finally joined together with the flowing river of blood that leaked before me.
My eyes had now been entirely at peace.
And suddenly I felt my body rest onto the flow with a bump.
My mind focused back to the pink blossom that lay before me on the riverbed.
Cupping it with my hands, I placed it under my nose and smelt the soothing sense of freedom, that was held in by the pink bladed plant.
As my nose inhaled its perfume, I gazed into the warm sun; picturing my family one by one as they smiled at me without reason.
I smiled as I created the image of my loving daughter, her eyes gleaming as if varnished over and over again.
I didn’t know what to do with my life now; I had no goal, no family, and no reason to live on; only the memories of my loved one could keep me going in a world conquered by hate and greed.
I let go of the flower that bloomed in my hand, letting it glide to the river’s edge as I focused on the other blossoms.
All of them floated, knocking against each other as if connected in some way, as if all of them were one happy family, free from sadness and born with peace. Such a gift I had been longing for; but maybe someday it will come to me, a time when I may find some peace, it may come tomorrow; it may come at my death.
But I know that for as long as I wait, I will always have my family, smiling, waiting patiently for my return.
Standing up slowly, I continued to daze into the ongoing river that lay before me.
I turned to the sun’s warm glow; which shifted onto the back of my aging body.
I pushed my woolly hat back, heat pouring from my forehead, from the dazzling sun, my rugged clothes stuck to me; held on by the baby sack that wrapped around my body.
Slowly I began to take my first step of relief, the care free sensation flowed up my body with every step; taking deep breath after deep breath till finally I began to continue my life step by step.
It felt like a moment of slow motion, as if all eyes were focused on me, I smiled to myself knowing that I would soon meet my family again, soon they will be in my arms.
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