Envoy of death

II

I step out of the forrest. Our little house is standing beside it. A small light shimmers through the closed curtains of the house.
My mom might be cooking us some food.
My stomach hurts as I haven't eaten in a while.
I cross the big  golden fields. The wind is blowing, and the wheat that is planted on it is floating.
I make my way through the small garden of ours. Small plants are planted in small rows. Tomato's, carrots, salads lovely placed by my mom. I and my brother used th help her but now ache just wants some space and time for her own.
I carefully climb over the well organized plants. It is dark so it is hard to se weather I break some of these tiny twigs.
I enter the house. The warmth is welcoming me .
"Where have you been that long"
My mother asked with a strict tone in her voice.
She usually gets worried especially after he died. I understand her fear but I love going into the forest. And it helps me remember.
Remember my brother.
My mom tries to forget him. Erase him from her life. I never understand how she could even think about that.
She says that he won't come back, so it will stop to hurt eventually.
But I think its bad
I think you should never forget about someone you love.
He will always be a part of myself.
I ripp myself out of my thoughts and look my mother straight in the eyes.
"In the Forrest as always."
I murmur quietly, regretting it as I spoke the last word.
My mother just looks at me disappointed. She is always just disappointed at me but she was never getting angry with me.
"Go wash your dirty feet and hurry, the food is ready"
I do as she tells and walk out to grab the bucket of water that is standing in front of our door.
I flinch as my feet touch the ice cold water. With a big wooden brush I wipe down the dirt that was stuck on my feet.
Little scratches were also on the bottom of my foot.
My inner voice tells me that I have to wrap them so no dirt can get in. Just as he told me to do.
But I don't care I never cared. It was my brother who did. Thinking of him makes me feel sad again.
My mother used to try to get me in the church to heal my inner self.
But without me believing them it won't help me, right?
I was always critical about the church, it is a trait that my brother had sown me.
I wipe my sore feet dry and walk back into the house. The fume that comes out of the kitchen smells delicious. And my empty stomach growls as I step in the small room. My uncle is sitting there leaning over a bowl of chicken soup. A empty bowl is standing next to it. My mom already finished eating.
I sat down on the wooden chair.
I fill the bowl with soup and begin to eat.
My uncle didn't even notice me.
I wasn't important enough. He always loved my brother more than me. I was never really jealous of my brother, but it hurts seeing my uncle not even recognize me. He has been the replacement for my father who apparently is in military custody.
At first I tried to impress him to distract him from the loss. It never worked he even told me to fuck of and that I won't ever be as good as my brother.
I never wanted to, because I knew it wouldn't work. I will never be as good as my brother.
"Tomorrow we go to the market place"
My father growls as he watches me eat.
It is the first time he has ever spoken to me after the insult.
It surprises me but I immediately try to hide it. The market place, they want to sell me for a good price. I heard about it in one of their loud arguments that they had. We usually don't go into strongly crowded areas.
As if we did something against the laws the great king. It makes me suspicious, I never trusted my uncle or anybody of my family.
I've tried to stop them from selling me, but after the death of my brother there is nobody who backs me up.
My eyes are watery and I try to stop the tears. I couldn't hold it any longer. The deep emotional pain cuts through me like a knife.
He was always there for me, but now he's gone and he will be gone forever.
I clean my bowl and head out of the living room.
My little room is empty. Every single thing that I own had been packed in a big box. Another sign that i will be sold tomorrow.
I sigh as I sit on my bed. A painting of my brother is laying next to my bed. I take it up and hold it in my shivering hands.
"You would have stopped them"
I mumble and a small tear drips on the large cardboard. I wipe the tear as fast as I could away, as I don't want it to damage it.
We got it at a painter. My good friend bought him that, a day before he died.
As he would have known that he would die the next morning in this forrest.
"You wouldn't let them do this, if you were still here, would you?"
Another tear drops onto the picture. I pack it into the big box before I sit back onto the bed, unable to feel any emotion. It felt as if the remaining part of my heart has been ripped out leaving a empty dark space.
I stand up packing the rest of the stuff that is laying in my small room. My hands are shivering as I put it in the wooden box.
I stand up and walk towards the metal cross. The only religious thing I own. It must have been expensive I figure, whilst looking at it.
I pack it on top of the other stuff, it could be useful whilst being sold. I close the lid of the box and lay down in my bed feeling numb. Everything feels empty, as if someone sucked out every emotion. I knew it was going to happen at some point but I ignored it. I ignored it for too long. My eyelids feel heavy as I slowly drift off to sleep.

You gotta be able to smile through the bullshit." – Tupac