Brick and mortar stood before him. One wall that stood alone in the rubble. Eyes shimmered with tears at what had happened. He fell to his knees, his sister's teddy bear clutched firmly in his hands. Ash stained the blonde bear, its eyes seeming to reflect the horrors it had witnessed. One arm had been torn, and was hanging on by threads. A body-racking sob broke through his mouth, and lines of spit splattered onto the dirt beneath him. Snot ran down his nose and onto his shirt. Tears turned his eyes red as his throat went hoarse with all of his screaming. His sister. His little nine year old sister had been caught in the cross fire and died. No longer would he be returning home to his sister's laughter, his mother's singing as she cooked, or his dad's booming chortle as he played with them both. No longer would he feel the touch of their hugs when a tough day came. No longer would he hear the TV play at ungodly hours as his mother waited for her favorite show to air. No longer would he have a family. No longer would he be loved. All that remained was one brick and mortar wall.
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Short Stories
Short StoryThis a collection of short works that I've written over time. Generally less than two pages in length, they deal with topics that hit the soul. Enjoy them, please. Note that these can be quite sensitive topics including death, and war. Read at your...
