Unknown Soldier

I Broke

Well so much for weekly updates, oh well, I will try to get things sorted.

The world went silent. What does she mean? What the FUCK is she talking about? No. No. NO. You can't do that! Don't you dare close your eyes, Don't you dare, stop that! No, you can't! Stop!

Please don't leave me.

She was gone. The bitch. She can't just leave me with that. No. That can't be the last thing she says to me. Come back. COME BACK YOU BITCH. You can't leave me, please I need you.

I didn't realise I was glaring until it was interrupted by my little sister's shaking hand slipping into mine.

"We need to go." Emotionless. I sounded like a robot. I might as well have been, I wasn't thinking; I wasn't feeling, only moving. Only running.

"Come on Maddy. Let's go" I grip her hand tighter and pull her up. A moving statue.

"But, Mummy-" She began to pull her hand back.

"Maddy please," I interrupted. "Please don't fight me here." I met her gaze, knowing exactly what she would see. I was broken. I was lost.

I almost crumbled under her tearful scrutiny but whatever she saw in my eyes finally got her moving. As gently as my stone limbs would allow, I pull her into our home.

The order and bright colours of everything inside seemed to taunt me as I left my sister at the stairs and stiffly  marched to my bedroom. My walls were covered in colourful, overlapping murals: my mother and I had always shared a love of painting and the evidence of that hung heavily upon 3 of the walls of my bedroom. My hand inched toward my necklace and most prized possession but I quickly resisted: we don't have time for that yet.

I walked around the house numbly, collecting small pieces of our life to take with us: tinned food, energy bars, bottles of water, spare clothes, plus the family photo I had sitting on my bedroom table - for sanity's sake.

I  marched the our battered and cramped living room to find Maddy sobbing on the sofa. Her tearstained cheeks broke my heart and I wanted nothing more than to hold her for hours and tell her about how everything will be okay. Instead I whispered in a silvery tone "come on Mads, it's time to go."

At the time I never realised it: I was too caught up in my own grief to notice. But in that in that moment, me sweet baby sister, having barely completed her 10th year of life, showed incredible strength. She stood up, she wiped her tears, and she walked out the door with me.Her movements were clumsy with emotion as I tugged her hand for her to go faster, that dreadful feeling had crept in once again and the idea of getting away pervaded all of my senses.

We cut across our garden, neither of us could have faced the scene waiting in front of the house, there was one street to cross, then the woods, just one street and we would be safe - well, safer. 

Just one street.

One street and I still lost her.

It started with a flash.

So similar to the heavenly light painting the sky with every colour of the world just above our head. 

A body appeared before us, tanned skin stretched over firm muscle. A mysterious figure bathed in golden incandescence. Wings

Big, beautiful wings.

Wings that swooped forward. Muscular arms that tore my sister my grasp. Wings that carried her and her screams away from me.

No. No please, not her too, PLEASE, I can't lose her as well. I begged to every god I had never believed in as I ran after the shrinking silhouette. Please I need her, she's all I have left, don't do this to me. 

My pleas were ignored as always and I stood to watch my sister disappear through my tears.

It was over. She was gone. They were all gone.

I am defeated as I stumble into the familiar shadows of the woods, memorised through years of childhood explorations. My feet barely made contact with the sharp crunch of spare twigs when I sank to my knees and finally let go.

I finally broke.