The Dawn: Life After War

Chapter 1: Dawn

     I woke up early in the morning on November 23, 2027. At least that's what I thought the date was. Dad had been trying to keep track. I knew it was a cold morning when I woke up shivering. The sound of my teeth clacking together echoing through the forest like a banshee's scream. I've only got a thin fleece blanket to keep warm with. Soon after waking up, I left my tent to attempt to start a fire, but it was too windy. It made me think back to last winter. My Dad and I had to huddle together like penguins just to keep warm. It's supposed to conserve your body heat, but I don't think it helped much.

     Tomorrow will be will two years since the war ended, yet gunfire still rattles off in the distance. To this day, I still have this faint belief that there are people fighting back. People that want this country to be what it used to be, though I know it never will. There are more Russian soldiers in this country than there are United States citizens. Honestly, how can we be citizens if the country that we live in was pulverized.

     After I was finished daydreaming, I rolled over on my cot, only to realize that Dad was no longer in the tent. He had to have left before I woke up, because I know I would have seen him walk out. I peek my head out of the tent to look around. It was still dark outside, yet you could tell that the sun was about to explode through the horizon, immersing the entire planet in a bright, warm light. Dew began to appear on the grass.

"Hey, Dad?" I questioned into the crisp early morning air, only to receive no answer.

     I left the tent and began to venture into the dense forest. On top of it still being dark, there was a heavy, hazy fog rolling in between the foliage and clouding the entire area, blinding me from any colors or movement throughout the forest. Silhouettes of trees pass by as I wander farther into the woods. Finally, as the canopy breaks, the light from the sun being reflected off of the moon surrounded me, and as I look up, I could see every constellation as they just floated . The stars burning as bright as the sun, only they were millions of miles away. I look to my left to find a fawn and it's mother. A sight more rare than an untouched building nowadays. Their eyes like the radiated skies. As I inch closer to them, I step on a twig and the animals ran.

     Seeing nature in its truest form always reminds me of my mother. It's beauty encapsulated her own. When the bombs began to drop and the troops started to invade, our family made a push out of the city. Myself, my father, and my grandfather all made it out. My mother didn't. She got hit by a ricocheted bullet as we crossed the city limits. My grandfather made us leave her there. We didn't even get to bury her. Now, when I see wild animals, I think of her smile. When I see the stars, I think of her laugh. When I see the sun and the moon, I think of her eyes.

     As I sat and thought, I began to come to my senses about the pure silence of the forest. It was like something you'd see in a horror movie.  The sun had started to rise, yet it's light still had not broken the horizon. My eyes had begun to adjust, though I still could not see through the fog. As I continue to look around, trying to make out any shape of familiarity, I feel an arm wrap around neck. A second hand then proceeds towards my mouth, making it to where a cannot speak.