It All Came Falling Down

one

    I stand atop a bridge, staring off into the city that rests against the fading summer sky, highlighted by the incandescent setting sun. It is the most beautiful I could ever remember about this place— no clouds, smog, or distracting things in the way. 
    Reminds me of old times, I think silently, when my wife was still here, embracing me tightly as I kissed her forehead. We had just finished dinner and decided to go for a walk when we stumbled upon a mesmerising sunset in the distance. This was just like it.
    The streets are quiet by now. Some may not enjoy the feeling of loneliness out here, but I tend to appreciate the serenity of the moment. I breathe deeply before turning to my left and continue my stroll down the road. And that’s when a teardrop rolls down my eye, for I suddenly lose the strength to hold it in after the reminiscence. 
    As I am wiping it quickly off, I couldn’t help but notice a woman and her child— an adorable little boy, hurrying to only God knows where. The lady’s hair drifts freely in the wind, and her face shows stressfulness and weariness. She has been through a lot— that I am sure of. But her son: he is the happiest single lad I have seen in these desperate times. He smiles as he walks past me, waving rapidly in the air like kids tend to do.
    “Hi!” his strong, yet soft voice greets. He waved, his cozy sweater swaying in the breeze, and he jumped excitedly in his little boots.
    “Hello there,” I grin. Surprisingly, I did not need to force a smile like usual; this one came out naturally. This was a time I wouldn’t expect to smile with intention and purpose. 
    “Oh, Nathan,” his mother chuckles. “Don’t mind him sir.”
    “Not a problem, ma’am,” I reply.
    She stops for a moment, as I extend a hand for her to shake. She accepts it with a firm grip. “Nice to meet you. I’m Arlyn Brunstead.”
    “Pleasure is mine. Kanston Wyllis.”
    The woman’s eyes shift from my face to the camouflage patterned coat I wore, one that I don every single day since thirty years ago; although it reminds me of a dark past, it only feels normal to wear it. “Did you fight in the War?” 
    My smile allows itself to uncurl. I hesitate for a mere second before simply shaking my head and replying with a gentle, “Yes.”
    “My mother did too. But she was—” Arlyn pauses. “I think we should get going. Goodnight.” She lowers her head and walks away with her child in the direction opposite to where I am heading.
    “Take care!” I yell after them. Before long, I too leave the bridge behind, just as the sun falls below the horizon and the sky grows dark once again. Darkness seems to be the norm these days. 
    “Wait!” I hear a voice speak. It is Arlyn, chasing after me with her son.
    “Yes?” I spin around. 
    “What was it like, the Army?” She stops and stoops forward slightly just to catch a breath. Nathan is energetic, fooling around by himself while holding on to his mother’s hand. 
    “Well ma’am, it was…” I do not really know what to say.
    “Tough? Hard?” She tries to finish.
    “Yeah.”
    “I’m sorry, I could use someone to talk to. Not to be strange or anything. Uhh, I know it’s quite hard to earn trust nowadays, but you seem like a nice guy.”
    “Don’t worry about it. Why don’t you come on over to my house? It’s been awhile since I had company for evening tea.”
    “Oh, I mean, I’d love to. Only if you insist,” Arlyn nodded.
    Half of my lips curves upwards. I wave for them to follow. The three of us now walk quickly along the darkened street until we arrive at an average size house that was blandly painted and barely decorated. “This is it,” I welcome Arlyn and her son in.
    “Thank you, sir. I think you’re too kind, because we need some company too,” the woman tells me.
    “Please, take a seat.” I say, pointing to a small couch in my living room. “Tea and biscuits?”
    “Yes!” Nathan answers.
    “You two need a place to stay, don’t you?” I question, stopping in my tracks. There is a look on her that I recognise. “Let me guess: bad husband?”
    “Yes… How did you know?” she tilted her head. “I’m in the middle of a divorce, I’m jobless, and I’m definitely not on the lucky side of life. It’s difficult, you know, after my mother passed away, and my ex-husband and I always get into these really petty fights. But if you mind, we could leave. My son and I couldn’t find a suitable place to live temporarily.” Arlyn looks straight into my eyes, and I could see tears just waiting to flow over her eyelids. 
    I understand what she is going through all to well, when it all comes falling down. It’s hard to trust or show compassion for anyone these days, but a voice in my head is telling me to make an exception just for them. “That’s fine with me. There are rules to follow, though,” I close my eyes for a second and say. I continue my way to the tea and biscuits.
    Arlyn smiles appreciatively and genuinely. “So what was your story? Did you fight in the War? Did you earn medals?”
    Something about what she just said is making me angry. REAL angry, causing a monster hiding dormant from within has awakened. I clench my fists and feel my face get warm. Slamming my hands on a table, I release my breath. “Sorry.”
    “Oh no, I didn’t mean to—”
    “Yes. I fought in the War. Yes, I won a medal of honour,” I interrupt, eyes red and blurred with raging tears.
    “It must’ve been so hard,” Arlyn comments, appearing amazed at my accomplishments.
    “You don’t know hard!” I grumble. “Please, don’t give me admiration. Up until this day, I wonder what the hell I did to deserve such scars. All my life, I live with the guilt of killing people, innocent or not; I live with the guilt of not saving people I could have…”
    “I understand—”
    “No, you don’t! You do not have the slightest idea of what it’s like. I was sent away when I was young. I was told to fight for liberty when in reality, I fought for a leader’s unending greed and selfish desires. I’ve seen countless people murdered, tortured, shamed, raped! And worst of all,” I cry to the point of screaming; Nathan loses his cheerfulness and hurries to his mother. I catch my breath. “Worst of all, I tell you, is when I had the one chance to do something right, I still let people die! It’s like the universe is laughing at my plight, because I have to live with it. Then, when I came home, they shoved a bouquet of... roses into my arms and strapped a shimmering medal around my neck, and they called me a war hero.”