The Boy Who Lived

His hand shook as he tried to sign his name.

"Kili, calm down. You don't have to do it if you don't want to. It's okay if you don't sign up. It won't make you any less of a man," said Fili.

"No, I want to do my bit to defeat Hitler, and if you're going I'm going too."

"Is there any way I can change your mind?"

"Nope."

"Well once you hand your papers in that's it. There's no turning back. Promise me you won't do anything stupid," Fili said ruffling Kili's long, brown hair.

"When do I ever do anything stupid?" said Kili, smiling cheekily.

As Kili sat at base camp trying to escape the heat from the Malayan jungle, he thought back to when he first signed up. He regretted leaving home and his mother. He wished he was braver, stronger, had more life experience, like Fili. He didn't get along with the other men as well as Fili did, they made fun of him calling him the runt of the litter, saying he was only a baby and that he should have stayed at home.  He got up and left the tent and found Fili practising knife throwing. He kept walking out into the middle of the jungle. He heard the sound of the ocean. He followed the sound till he found a giant rock. He climbed up on top of it and that's when he saw it. As far as the eye could see was beautiful clear blue water, he sat there for hours just watching the waves crash into the sand.

"I miss home," he said to himself.

He climbed down from the rock and walked back to base camp. Fili was sitting in his bunk playing with his pocket knife.

"Never thought I would say this, but I miss the cold and the wet," said Kili sitting down next to him.

"Me too. We finally go somewhere tropical and it's too hot," he said as he took off his boots. "I'm going to bed. This heat is making me so tired. Night Kili."

Kili climbed into his bunk and stared at the ceiling. He couldn't stop thinking about home and whether he and his brother would make it back.

He lay there unable to sleep. He decided to go for a walk. He got out of his bunk, and put on his boots. Grabbing his knife and flask of water, he set out to find the beach he found earlier that day. Immediately, he felt the humidity wrapped around him like a wet blanket. He could hear the sound of foot steps behind him. His throat went dry. What if it was the enemy? He would be a goner for sure. He pulled his knife out of its sheath and swallowed hard. As he started to turn around he felt the tip of a blade against his throat.

"Fili? It's me," Kili said, breathing out a sigh of relief.

"Kili? What are you doing out here," said Fili.

"I couldn't sleep"

"You shouldn't be out here by yourself,"

"I can take care of myself" Kili shouted at Fili.

"Be quiet I'm taking you back. I don't want to get into trouble because of your stupid mistake," Fili said, looking around anxiously.

"Fine."

As they started walking back, Fili heard a noise coming from the trees behind them.

"Kili!" screamed Fili, pushing him to the ground.

Three shots rang out. Kili lay still against the ground barely breathing. He felt his brother lying next to him. They lay there for what felt like a life time. He looked up to see if they were gone. He couldn't see or hear any one.

"That was close," he said to Fili, nudging him in the arm.

Fili was silent.

"Fili?"

He put his hand on Fili's back and felt something wet. He looked at his hand and his face turned white. It was blood, Fili's blood.

"Fili, answer me, Fili," he cried as he rolled him onto his back.

All the colour had left Fili's face. He put his ear to his chest, and there was no heartbeat. Kili felt tears start rolling down his cheeks. It was entirely his fault, he thought to himself. If he had never left that tent then maybe Fili would be alive. He started sobbing uncontrollably. He held Fili against his chest hugging him tightly. He held him for hours, but when the sun came up he had to go. But he couldn't bring himself to leave his brother. Quickly scurrying around grabbing as many palm leaves as he could carry, he carefully placed them together. He picked up Fili's body and positioned him gently on the leaves. He started clawing at the ground with his hands and he kept digging till his hands were torn and bloody. All he could think about was sheltering Fili's body in the safe, cool earth. The thought of animals eating his body or worse, the Japanese finding him and using his body for bayonet practice was too terrible to contemplate. He grabbed a rock and used it to help him dig. When the grave was deep enough he carefully placed Fili in it. He started filling the grave up with dirt. When he was finished, he started to walk back to camp. That's when he saw it: two pieces of wood lying on the ground. He ran over and picked them up. He grabbed his knife and started carving Fili's name into it. He pulled some vines down from a tree and tied it around the bits of wood to make a cross. Gently, he pushed it into the ground at the top of the grave.

Kili looked at the grave one last time and said, "Good bye Fili. When this horrible war is over, I will come back for you."

****

An old man hobbled along the jungle path, his walking stick carefully negotiating a safe passage through the snaking vines and leaves that littered the ground. Surprisingly he found the rock quite easily. His eyes slowly moved down to the old wooden cross lying on the ground. He gently picked it up and propped it up against the rock, his fingers tracing over the name that had all but disappeared, worn away by wind and rain and time.