The Heavens Below

The First Time: 2

Part 2: Ashes to Ashes

I ran through the ashes and the dust.
Between walls and what I hoped weren't people.
Without slowing down or looking where I was going, I thought it wouldn't be long before I'd join them.
My face burned. My lungs burned.
My eyes stung and I could barely see.
Turning and twisting through the narrow maze of wood and flames.
I didn't know how long I ran. I only knew I should head towards the shouting. I found the road by the time it felt my legs could carry me no further.
    A man spotted me and yanked me out into the street, where other children were being grouped together and led. There were soldiers everywhere.
They were herding us underground. A lot of the kids around me were crying.
A lot were covered in blood.
I looked at my brother again. He was silent, and his face was smudged and black. But his eyes were open. That was a good sign. Then, he started coughing.
I could hear the screeching clearer in the open streets.
It was closer.
The adults pointed their weapons and shouted at us to move faster.
I was quickly pushed underground. Shrouding us in darkness.
I was used to that. But I'd never realized why.
Why down here, in the damp, cold dirt was better than what was up there.
So much better.

I didn't see my mother that day. We were only allowed back outside late into the morning.
Everything looked so much worse in the daylight.
Someone asked me for my name and gave us water and food.
  When I told them who I was, they took me and my brother somewhere else. We were different from the other children.
  We moved from place to place, every time being told our parents were here. Then they weren't.
  It wasn't until the day after that that I saw my mother again.
  She was alive, and she could walk. She had burns, and large gashes on her arms and shoulders, most were bandaged and stitched. There were bite marks too. Big ones.
    When she saw us she cried. She said she was sorry for leaving us.
    I didn't ask what had happened to her in the alley. I didn't ask what she'd done. I already knew.
   I had never asked about the bloody claw marks on her body before, why would I now?

    I saw my father another two days after that. My mother was working despite her injuries.
I suppose it'd make sense that my father would too.
   I only saw him from a distance, though. He was talking with another adult outside of one of the overcrowded hospitals.
    He didn't look too bad as far as injuries went, but it looked like he hadn't slept in almost a week. I was right.
   We only really saw each other again when life had gone back to normal. When we ate in our house and school was now all they seemed to want to speak with me about.
   This was normal.
   This was life.
This was just the first time I had noticed.
I had only been six, then.
  That was the first time.

I could never have imagined the thousands more to come.