Taming the War

Prologue

B L A I R

A scream pierced through the air, disturbing the once silent night. With every second that passes, dread overwhelms me enough that unshed tears burn my eyes.

Every step felt like I was purposely walking into a demon’s lair where bodies were either chopped into pieces or was left to rot after experiencing death in the most morbid of ways.

Both my hands and knees trembled as I tried to steady my breath. Wetness pools beneath my feet. From the moment I woke up to the chilling sound of gunshots, I refused to look down, afraid of what I might just see. I’d rather have myself imagine that the maid just unfortunately left the faucet in the bathroom open, than accept the possibility that it’s the blood of our helpers I’m stepping on.

Few bated breaths later, I finally reached the living room. There I saw people lying down, either dead or just mere heartbeats away from facing death as their bodies succumb into the pain of the weapon that just slashed through their bodies.

I bit my lips to stop it from trembling, hard enough to draw blood.

I walked further into the room, my dam breaking when I saw my father laying beside my mother’s body. A seven-year-old kid would want to imagine at this very moment that her parents are just taking a break and decided to lie down in the most unusual places of all. But reality refused me a taste of fiction, forcing me to accept the truth staring back at me.

I kneeled down and cradled my father’s head, softly tapping his face. I wanted to shout at him to wake him up, but the sound was trapped in my throat, disdain cursing through my whole body.

It’s no use.

I turned to reach for my mother. The angelic face that always sung me lullabies before I went to sleep now stared back at nothing, shock written all over her eyes. It told me that whatever took place while I was asleep disturbed the very soul that gave life to me.

I once heard my parents fighting for our family’s safety. My father even saw me and tucked me into his arms, whispering nothing but sweet words, assuring me that he wouldn’t let anything happen to us.

He didn’t keep his promise.

He said we’d be safe, but as I stared at our red-stained walls, my body already covered with blood from I don’t who, my parents’ dead bodies with a few more blood oozing out from the whole on their foreheads, I knew he only intended to keep me safe… not everyone else.