Safe Harbor

| 5 |

I couldn't seem to sleep a wink. I'd tossed and turned for hours until I gave up entirely, accepting my fate. I sat up against my bedroom wall and stared into the emptiness of my room, feeling restless. I longed for the days where counting sheep was enough to lull me away into dreams. My body ailed with fatigue but my mind showed no signs of slowing down. My head was a sea of thoughts, churning and frothing endlessly- a typhoon, aching to wreak havoc. I just wanted to forget for a little while. Was that too much to ask for?

I close my eyes and go back to the day before yesterday. Bournemouth was whole and thriving as usual, with its typical bustle. Marco and I had been at school, cramming maths and science into our heads, to ready ourselves for Uni, in a few years' time. Dad had been out at sea, fulfilling his duty to our country, and Mum had been working non stop at the hospital, as always.

It's frightening to think about how things can change in mere hours.

The town was broken- both physically and mentally. Town Square lay in shambles, but it was nothing compared to our spirits, which were shattered irrefutably. A mist of shock and unease lay over us, chokingly, and it would be here for some time to come. School seemed like a foreign notion now. How could anyone expect us to be content, learning about the cosine of angles, when a war was looming directly over our heads? Dad was home; but instead of the happy homecoming he deserved, he was dropped into yet another warzone. And Mum... Mum was asleep under the stars, a blanket of debris and dust ensconcing her comatose body.

I wanted to pretend like it was all just one horrible dream. That I'd wake up in a few hours and find my chore list on the table; Mum already gone- at the hospital. I'd get dressed and go to school with Marco; attempting to learn, but really be more focused on keeping him out of trouble. I'd walk by Town Square on the way back home, and admire its' beauty for a couple of seconds, like I always did. Then I'd get home, go to sleep and do it all over again the next day.

I opened my eyes and stare into the darkness with a heavy heart. Because pretending, although a brief respite, can't change the truth. And the truth is one of the only concrete things in life, and once you have it, there's no going back.

We were so ignorant. I was so ignorant; so oblivious to the war erupting around me. How foolish were we to think that it wouldn't affect us- that we were going to be spared; few out of millions. That's the thing about war and destruction; you don't believe it'll happen to you until it does. Ignorance is truly bliss.

If there was one thing I knew for certain, it was that nothing would ever be the same again.

"Alex?" I jumped a little, startled, peering across the vast expanse of black, trying to see who it was. "It's just me."

Dad's voice soothed my paranoia, and I allowed my heartbeat to slow down. In the faint light trickling through my closed curtains I could vaguely make out his tall frame.

"Can't sleep?" He asked, his voice concerned, but restless like my own. He moved towards me tiredly, slowly making his way onto my bed to sit next to me, wordlessly.

"As well as you've been able to," I replied quietly, noticing the dark circles under his eyes. Silence ensued and no words were exhanged, yet none were needed. We simply sat together, comforted by each other's presence in the aftermath of one of the worst days of our lives.

"I'm sorry, A," he said then, his voice a gut-wrenching mixture of remorse and grief.

"For what?" I replied, angling my body to look up at him. His eyes were closed and he leaned back against the wall as if it were the only thing keeping him up. But there was no mistaking the look of pain that seemed to be permanently etched onto his face.