The War

1

The forest was so beautiful in the morning. Birds singing, fresh air, dewy grass and the Sun adding to the magic sent me into a trance. Arlo, who was quite hyperactive considering the fact that it was only half past five, licked my face and gave me a questioning look, tilting his head. He always did that when I zoned out. 

I smiled at him, petting his chocolate colored fur.

"Come on Arlo, let's go home"

He jumped readily to his feet, but the same couldn't be said for me. Going back to reality was not my favorite activity. My parents' worried eyes and the never ending bad news on the TV were sometimes just too much for me to handle. Still, that didn't mean we could stay in the forest forever. We had to go.

...

Upon arriving home, I could immediately hear a hushed argument between my parents, but I knew better than to go and ask what it was about. They were, in lack of a better term, discussing what to do and where to go if the worst happened. 

Instead of wasting my time, I gave Arlo his breakfast and packed some more fresh water to my emergency backpack. I knew that my supplies weren't enough to last us for a long time, but carrying a large bag would only slow me down. Between having food and potentially dying and eating grass but being alive, my choice was obvious. 

Through my window, I saw people flocking to the stores. Unlike them, I was in my room, isolated from the world. However, I wasn't an idiot. I was in a standby mode at all times, just waiting to hear the sirens, hoping I never would. 

Lunch mostly passed in silence. We all knew that one wrong word could spark an emotional breakdown, fueled by the news reporter saying we should locate the nearest bomb shelter and stay alert. Like nobody was panicked enough. 

After saying they loved me, my parents went to work, both working afternoon shifts. They never asked how I was, they never cared. The words of love were more of an obligation to them, than anything else. 

Arlo was again the one to bring me back to reality. Even then, my silent anger continued, all the way into our afternoon walk and night routine. The bad weather, which replaced the morning sun, didn't help either.

...

I couldn't sleep. Thunder was raging outside. Not even the comfort of my dog was enough to calm me down. 

I wondered if this was how it would be like if the war started. I we were even going to survive. most shelters don't take pets in. But Arlo was more than a pet to me, he was my best friend. I wouldn't be able to leave him behind. My parents could take care of themselves. I wish I could say the same for my dog. 

Arlo must have felt that I had begun shaking. He jumped onto my bed and snuggled in, deciding that laying beside my bed with me petting him wasn't enough. He was right, I felt much safer.

With that, I let fatigue take me away.