There is hope in the worst

In leaving, a part of us stays.

Happy was he, in the middle of a war. The loud volume of the television blasting throughout  the whole house. He was watching his favorite movie on repeat for what seemed like an eternity.

He sat beside Natsu, eating salty, caramelized popcorn, Natsu’s favorite. Ever since the war began, the usual thing they would do is watch movies, in hope that the war would soon disintegrate.

His mom laid outside the hammock. If he were to guess, she would have been reading a book. They had an old library, barely touched until the war started.

She picked up the habit of reading them one by one, as work was suspended, giving her more time to relax. That’s if relaxing were possible in a hell hole of a war.

They were lucky to still have clear blue skies; lucky to have fresh air, so they could breathe freely. They were lucky to still have food, even if it was gradually decreasing as time passed. They were lucky to still have each other, a home.

They were lucky.

“Shoyo! Natsu!” nearly broke the door as she rushed in. He started to tremble, his heart raced. Then she was rushing in, with a heart breaking expression.

It was concerning, he would have asked what was wrong, but the flashing light answered all his questions.

Was he dying? He felt the vibration. It was so near, yet it was so far. He felt no pain. Not a single ache, but then there was. It hit him. Adrenaline rushed out, as he realized what had happened.

He felt as if all his bones were broken, as if his skin was stripped off of his body. He did his best to get up, the pain in his neck stopping him from looking around in his current position.

He laid there for who knows how long. He was forced to look at the red blooming sky. He wished to be taken away. Far away from this place. His condition wasn’t good, which only makes him fear for the worse for both his mom and Natsu.

He was so tired, so so tired. He would have closed his eyes, cried, screamed, but even the most simple things he would have easily done were draining him.

He forced himself to get up, ignoring the pain. He soon regretted it as he saw the lying body of his mom. He shouted, he ran, he cried, adrenaline slowly returning, as he rushed to check for a pulse.

His heart dropped. He shook his mom's corpse, but not a single sign of life was shown. Maybe if he got up earlier, maybe he could have had a chance. Why was he so selfish? Why wasn’t he the one taken away.

He sat for a few seconds, replacing the book his mother held as she died with his own hand. Considering he was a wreck whenever a loved one of his died, he moved on fast, or at least, he tried.

“Shoyo..” He gasped as he heard the shaky voice. It wasn’t his mom’s, it was Natsu’s. He darted to the piled-up rubble, assuming that was where the voice came from.

He removed each rubble one by one. He ignored the scars and scratches it gave him, thinking that Natsu was in worse condition.

“NATSU!” He screamed, desperately waiting for a reply.”Shoyou!” she replied, trembling. He had hope. He scurried to clear the rubble, eventually letting his sister free. 

She was badly bruised, luckily, their house wasn't in complete disarray. “Natsu! Stay here, I’ll get something.” If he wasn’t mistaken, the first aid kit would have been placed above the stove cabinet.

He coughed, the kitchen was a mess. It was dusty, almost as if it had been abandoned for ages. He climbed up the counter, trusting his balance that he wouldn't fall and took the bag. He jumped down, a crucial mistake.