A Shout Shook The Silence

Jessica and baby Raymond

The mother quietly sang, afraid in case the child started to cry.

That wasn't allowed here. Noise after one in the morning.

Well, it used to be a rule before it turned out they were the only two still living there..

But this poor child was so hungry, he silently wept, clinging to his mother for the little warmth there was in the crumbling house that used to be their home. 

The paint on the walls were now dull and lifeless. There were slight damp patches on different places on the walls. The floor was wooden and freezing. It used to have heating beneath it but since the riot, the mother couldn't afford to use the heating at all.  

The mother cradled her child, the both of them drifting in and out of consciousness in the warmth that was shared between both of their bodies.

Then the little three year old started to speak softly and his mother's heart felt heavy with the simple yet painful words her child has used in his innocent question;

"Mummy? When is Daddy coming home again to help us? Why can't we leave?"

His mother has to swallow the lump in her throat so she could answer him in the same soft tone her son had used,

"I don't know, love. Soon. Hopefully soon."

"But Mummy..."

"Shh love. He'll be here soon. Don't worry."

The child's mother was a lovely woman. She had blonde, medium length hair that flowed elegantly over her shoulders, even though it hasn't been brushes in a while. Her skin was soft and golden in colour. Her eyes always shone with the emotion she was feeling at that moment, and right now, her eyes showed sadness. She missed her husband. She had no way of contacting him because if the riot that had broken loose. She remembered what he said as he left her, vaguely.

That he'd be back soon. That he loved her.

But he didn't come back.

Not yet anyway.

She never lost hope, though.

Her son is the spitting image of his father. Short chestnut brown hair, piercing green eyes, olive skin.

Poor little Raymond missed his Daddy. He wanted him back so he could leave this place. This wasn't his home anymore.

He slowly fell asleep to his mother's singing, soothing him and forgetting his troubles.

It must be at least three in the morning at this stage, and the child's mother, who was named Jessica after her own mother, couldn't sleep. Her mind was racing with thoughts.

Thoughts of her husband, who promised to come back for her.

Thoughts of little Raymond who lay sleeping in her arms, longing for the return of his Daddy.

All of a sudden, her heart filled with hatred and pain. Their so-called president has killed so many innocent people.

Now look what he's done.

He's set his whole county into rebellion.

And he didn't care.

But Jessica was determined.

When they got out of here, their "President" would regret crossing this town.

She would make sure of it