War Of Survival

Chapter Two, The Incident

The afternoon of October 28, 2016. I hop off the bus and quickly make my way home. It was a beautiful day, the sun roasted my skin and the wind danced in my hair as I skipped home, creeping up the lengthy driveway. I daydream and come up with random stories in my mind, like I always do when it's quiet and I want to kill some time. As my sister and I tiptoed into the house, I was astonished to see my mum home, she never replied when I asked her why she's home. I wandered over to my room and threw my school bag with force to the other end of the room, hitting the ghost right in the face on the way. I grab my tablet and flop right down on the couch. A little while later, I hear a motorbike speed up the driveway, I quickly peek out the window to see my dad race home with his mouth open and a zombified look on his face, I think nothing of it, thinking he's just mad or forgot something home and rushed back to get it. I never knew it but quite some time has passed after I saw him and creeps outside to investigate. Next thing I know, I hear her say "Kodin, what's wrong, did you fall?", so of course I go out to investigate for myself what's going on and that turned out to be a bad idea because once I peek my head around the corner, I see my dad's bike laying flat like a pancake on the ground and my dad hovering over the rubbish bin with pools of blood lying beneath his feet and a flaming vermillion snake-like drops of blood slithering from his lips and plunging to the ground. It was then when I realized he was vomiting blood.

The violet shades of bruises attached themselves under my dad's eyes, looks like that'll be their home for the next few weeks. My dad creeped inside the house all wonky and tripping over his own feet to lay on the couch and close his eyes, ignoring my mum's pestering questions "WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU, SHOULD I CALL AN AMBULANCE?" she shrieked at the top of her lungs, my dad mumbled under his breath "I don't know", I can tell his energy is drained and it took all of his power to let those words escape from his mouth. Next thing we know, the farm owner comes racing up the driveway but he doesn't come in, followed by him, the ambulance comes up. By then my mum is wailing hysterically, none of us know what is going on. My dad's helper comes in and told us that my dad was assaulted by the person who also works on the farm, that horrible guy wanted money from my dad and my dad didn't have any to give him, what makes me extremely mad to this day was the fact that the police who call themselves 'heroes' didn't even care to arrested Joe-Stupid-Head-Joe buggy pants. Now, I don't hate anyone but I feel really sad that people who you try to help, would do something like this, we gave them a job and house when even they were homeless and then they go and treat my parents like crap.

My mum grew scared of the police because they were on Joe's side. Instead everyone thought we were the bad ones which makes me think that Joe told the ambulance and police a bunch of crap that's not even true that lead to my dad getting fired, now they claim it's because my dad was in no condition to work but instead of supporting us through this time, they kicked us off the farm. The police did tell us my dad could make a statement if he wanted but his brain was too injured and he was too zombified to even talk properly. My dad is never one to fight, he will never throw a punch or fight back, he'll just simply turn around and walk away, which is exactly what he did that day, there were witnesses but no one even cared to help my dad, Joe's wife probably snapped at him to stop beating him since the last thing my dad says he remembers is his wife screaming "JOE STOP IT" and even if my dad died from those damages, Joe buggy pants just left my dad to die there (luckily he didn't die). My dad says he doesn't know how he got home since he doesn't remember driving home but God must be really amazing because my dad's brain told him to get up and drive home, God helped him drive up and down those hills, guiding him all the way home.

My dad suffered post-concussion syndrome, a broken tail-bone, his skull was cracked and there was blood coming out, his organs were bruised, explaining why he was vomiting blood. His face started to puff up like a puffer fish and all he could do was lay in bed staring at the roof. He was like a baby for a good 6 months, he couldn't dress himself, he couldn't walk or talk, my poor mother had to bathe him and dress him, she had to help him to the bathroom. This was a very dark time in my family, my mum grew into depression, even though she didn't talk to me about her feelings often during this time, she was alone at home with him while my sister and I went to school. My parents think it didn't really impact me very much, but that's because I don't talk about my own feelings I felt like I didn't have parents during this time, I felt like I've lost both my parents, especially because me, as a 12 year old had to keep the positivity in the family, I had to act like the parent to my own parents, I wasn't allowed to be sad about it otherwise my mum would get sad too and I had to stay happy for my younger sister, she was 8 years old during this time, she didn't really understand what was happening.

My mum had to drive my dad to the pools so that he could bathe in the warm spa, healing his body, keeping it warm and soothing the physical pain he had. I felt trapped in a cage during this time, I felt like I was in jail, I felt like I was in hell. We were all alone in this world, we had no one's shoulder to cry on. I tried putting my trust in god, hoping everything would turn out okay again, and it didn't help that everytime we went to paknsave, my mum would stare at everyone and mumbling under her breath "At least all these people are happy in life" and of course I'd reply "Don't worry, everything is going to work out okay again".

The truth was, I was not sure if everything would be okay again, but I had to say something to keep my mum happy.