Stay Strong

Chapter Four (Edited)

It's funny isn't it, how others think the world stop for them, that the world revolves around their miniscule desires. I went to the park from the picture on my bedside table after Valentine and I went to the furniture store and ordered the some things for the room. So that's where I am now, on a swing in the playground. There are very few children at the park, mostly small children following their parents. All around me I see things I haven't seen in years.

I see the small birds that flit between the green leafed branches of trees, calling to one another. I can see more new people in five minutes than I ever saw in a full day at Battle school. I see the children who haven't a care in the world, most of the ones on this playground will never know a formic war, they were born after the third law was lifted and my jeesh and I stopped the Formics dead.

I was like that once, young and careless when it came to the outside world. Seventeen, I'm seventeen years old now and I have no idea who I am, what I am. A life was given to me seventeen years ago and then torn away in an instant when they took me away for a school where we learned to kill, to fight, to hate the enemy. To hate the enemy even if they are your friend.

I'm snapped out of my thoughts when a large blue bird lands on the swing next to me. The black plastic moves slightly on its change as the large bird moves. It tilts its head at me and flaps it's large wings. Just for a moment the sapphire blue bird and I just look at each other, its almost like a sense of understanding is held between the bird and I. The bird makes me smile, for no reason at all but I smile anyways.

It hops on the plastic black seat, watching me. The birds dark beak dissapears under its right wing as the bird starts to prune its beautiful feathers. Its unusual how close this bird is yet the bird does not fly away from me on the swing out of fear.

I tear my eyes from the bird as a man in a three piece business suit who us walking right towards a little girl and her father by the ice cream cart. The man absentmindedly talks to someone wirelessly via bluetooth while deeply involved with something on his thin, glassy tablet's screen.

The businessman continues on his path of destruction bumping directly into the small girl who holds her father's hand, beaming as he hands money to the woman behind the ice cream cart. The little girl loses her balance easily and falls to the ground once the man makes contact with her.

When the little girl manages to stand back up with bloody little knees her father is glaring at the man who just knocked down his daughter. The man snorts and keeps on walking like the incident wasn't his fault. The small pigtailed girl looks up to her father who rests a hand on her blonde little head and then he picks her up off the ground and wipes budding tears off her face.

After sniffles are gone, the father daughter duo get ice cream and leave. I think to the man who knocked the small child to the ground, Ignorant fool. He could have stopped to apologize, maybe bought their ice cream if he actually was sorry, but no. He just went on his merry way like nothing was his fault.

That's what this world is, full of ignorant people. Sometimes I feel I'm the only one who understands, understands the value of life. Others claim to know, but you'll never know loss until you completely decimate an alien species. Everyday I wish I could go back to that day when Graff and Rackham told the group of us it was final exam day. I wish I knew what they were having us do.

But they knew that we could never actually do it at such a young age, our already fragile mental states as is before xenocide wouldnt be able to comprehend let alone process and get over the mass murder of an entire species.

The destruction of the buggers rages a war in my head. Some days I can't live with myself, the last queen in my arms was taken and destroyed. It all leads back to Graff. As much as I want to blame Petra for the destruction of the last queen's egg, I can't. Petra didnt touch that egg, it was Rackham, Graff, the men who really murdered the last Formic queen.