EMOTIONALLY ENTANGLED

P R O L O G U E

P R O L O G U E

vote and comment

It all started on the outskirts of a town in the early 2000s where in a yard—one that looks like every other yard—had two boys within its confines. Two identically looking boys if it wasn't for the fact their hair were of two contrasting colours, blonde and dark brown.

They were young and dressed up in small T-shirts and shorts, tumbling messily amongst the dust in their garden, built up from the lack of rain that's fallen over the past few weeks. The grass beneath their feet slowly but surely losing its colour, turning to a bright yellow that almost matched the sun itself.

A woman exited the house and made her way down each small step with a cautious way about her. Her fingers glided over the banister, intricate and delicate of a touch against the wood. She wore a floral design dress—as she always did—and had an apron over her as well.

As if they'd seen an angel, the boys paused their rough and tumble games and sprinted to their mother in great excitement, wrapping their small arms around her legs happily.

"Mama," the boy started—the eldest one—stood there with the smallest of a frown on his face, "when's dad coming home?"

He was every bit his father's son, curious and fearless, but he was still a child and the child missed his father terribly.

His mother however, leaned down to their level and ruffled her hands through both their hair, saying in her usual quiet voice, "don't worry about your father. He'll be back soon; he always is, isn't he?"

The other boy, slightly smaller than his brother and with a small whine, jumped once as if he was huffing in frustration, "but he's been gone for ages."

The woman sighed. What could she do? The last time Damien called her was two days ago and he did mention he'd be caught up on the way back. Her children understood that their dad wasn't always going to be around; he had responsibilities. Giving them up would put his family in danger and he couldn't risk that.

It was always towards the end of his trips that they got impatient like it was almost a sign that he'd be coming home soon.

"I know, my babies, but we just have to be patient...like he said." both of them nodded before their mother pulled them inside for dinner, which was already laid out on the table in their places.

Their mother closed the backyard door behind her, locking it as she always did in the evenings in case she'd forget to do it before going to bed. She settled at one end of the table where normally, she sat across her husband.

The kitchen wasn't too small, big enough that they could fit the table in there without a struggle. Dishes stacked on one side of the sink ready to be put away and several glasses and mugs in the cupboards above felt the warmth of the sun that evening, shining through the windows and illuminating into the kitchen.

"Come on, you two. Eat up. Remember what your father said. We have to be hopeful like he asked us to be," she explained to them, tucking into her own food as the boys ravenously ate next to her, "this is like every other mission so he'll be fine. Dad's just caught up, at the moment."

The woman was always strong for her boys, but sometimes when Damien was away, she'd miss him. Understandable considering they were married and loved each other. It was such pure love that it made her forget everything about their lives, but since he left, she often cried at the thought of not being with him.