War Kids Page 4

  I get to the back of the school; there is no roof left. This is where the bomb must’ve landed. Right here, in the middle of the building.

  There is a half-burnt book among the smashed glass. I pick it up and decide to keep it as a memory of this place and what happened here. This may be the last textbook I have.

  Why would they bomb a school? What does a child have to do with this war?

  Chapter 8

  Bridge to Hell.

  ZAK

  It becomes clear that the captain wasn’t lying; thick black smoke bellows up and into the sky above the trees. First they kill my brother, and then they burn my village! Taking a deep breath in, my lungs filling with smoke, I sprint toward the blaze, praying my mother and father are at work.

  Like a scene straight out of hell, my house has completely burned down. The smell of blood has been replaced with putrid stench of melted paint and scorched wood.

  I step onto my chargrilled front door, which is now a bridge over rubble and burning destruction. Thump, thump, thump… my heart beats uncontrollably.

  My once happy home has been reduced to a pile of smoking cinders. How could they burn it down, erasing everything in my life? Where are we going to live now? Fragments of glass lie on top of the smoldering debris, reflecting the sun to create a light show. As fast as it was created, it is gone. The black smoke in the sky blocks out the rays of hope. The darkness becomes a blur, as my brain tries to understand what I am seeing.

  Cautiously, I step along the door to what was once my living room. There’s a black pile of smoking charcoal where the sofa was, with melted plastic mixed in. White fragments dust the top of the sea of black beneath my feet. A soft summer breeze flies in through the glass-less window, lifting the white fragments, making them dance off the ground and up into the sky. I think of my mother and how devastated she’ll be when she sees the destruction.

  The thick smoke is turning gray as the blue sky tries to push through the horror. The roof of my house is gone. It must have collapsed from its own weight, and the walls crumbled. All that is standing in the front room is the fireplace.

  Even the stairs have nowhere to go. My bedroom is gone. I glance down and see an object sticking up where the kitchen once was.

  Hesitantly, I step towards the shape. It’s the sole of a shoe… my mother’s shoe. One of her favorites. It must’ve come down from her bedroom in the explosion. I reach down to pick it up, but it’s stuck. I give it a tug. Nothing.

  Finally, I give one last yank and it comes free, only to reveal a foot.

  I gasp in horror. No… Mother isn’t here.

  She’s at work. This is not her. This cannot be my mother.

  The whiteness of her skin gleams out from the blackness around me, with her candy pink toenails, which Tilly did for her just last night. A knot fills my stomach. I grab my chest and let out an anguished cry.

  “Mother, please do not die on me. Mother, please wake up!”

  I frantically start digging around her. I lift a brick, the last thing covering her face. Falling to my knees in a daze, I rest my mother’s head on my lap and brush the black soot from her eyes, leaving a smudge trail. “Mother, Mother, wake up!” I scream as I shake her. But I know she is dead.

  “No! Why did you have to kill her? You fucking bastards, you killed her!”

  Grief and shock have not hit me yet. I’m frozen in panic, and my body has shut down. Where is my father? Is Tilly okay? What about Hamal? Father is at work, right? Shit, did he go to work? Frantically, I look around for a sight of my father’s body. But after an exhaustive search I find nothing.

  Phew, thank God his body is not here! But I can’t find my dog Hamal either. I call out for him but don’t hear anything. I sit with my mother’s head in my lap, brushing the dirt and soot from my hair.

  “Please God, no… not the rest of the family. I cannot be alone.”

  Moving my mother’s head off my knees, I carefully set her down. I lick my fingers to wipe the charcoal off her face, leaving her looking beautiful. “Goodbye, Mother. I will find the men that did this to you. I love you.” Then I slowly rise to my feet.

  “Hamal, good boy, come here,” I yell again, as I head toward the back of the house. The back garden area is completely covered. It looks like the sky has, quite literally, fallen

  I run over to Hamal’s tree; he is just lying there, not moving. I lower my head to get a closer look, and I recoil in shock.

  They shot him!

  No! How could they? Why?!

  Hugging Hamal close, I weep uncontrollably, unable to understand what is happening.

  I cannot handle this anymore. I need my father. I have to get him and Tilly. Poor Tilly.

  Chapter 9

  Goodbye Father.

  JADA

  Walking through the woods to get to my village, I’m reminded of the times Father and I would come here for training practices. It was always fun, like a real life adventure. I knew it wasn’t a game, and that the training was important, but I couldn’t help but enjoy it. I loved hunting rabbits; they were so fast! Mother made the best rabbit stew.

  But today the woods just remind me that I’m alone, and of the day my father was kidnapped.

  That day began like any other. Mother was making breakfast. I was reading in my room, and after breakfast Father and I were going to train. Reading and hunting were the only things I had to fill my day.

  Bang, bang, bang!

  Extremely loud gun shots filled the road outside my home, causing me to jump in surprise. I headed toward the hallway to a window that overlooked the main road. Terrified, I snuck a peek, hoping no one could see me.

  The soldiers were in my village! They stood in front of the garden gate with black scarves covering their faces. I could only see their eyes.

  Lifting their AK-47s in the air, they fired another round in the sky. Bang, bang, bang! Time stood still as I watched them. They turned to each other and laughed.

  There were more soldiers with the AK-47s slung casually over their shoulders, and a black flag in their hands waving in the summer breeze. The horizon changed, and it filled with rows of soldiers carrying their guns and flags. There was a sea of darkness heading to my home.

  “Jada, Jada,” Father yelled frantically as he ran up the stairs. But he wasn’t scared of anything!

  “What’s happening? Who are they?” I cried out. Mother and Lucas followed Father up the stairs.

  “Jada, it’s the army… they are going to take me.” Father pulled me into my parents’ bedroom by my arm. He lowered his head in shame.” I thought we’d be safe here. I’ve failed all of you, and for that I am sorry.”

  “It is not your fault. You saved me, and I will always love you,” Mother said, and she hugged him.

  What did she mean, ‘you saved me’?

  “Father, we can fight. You don’t have to go with them!” I protested.

  “Jada, I know you and your mother are both strong, but we are outnumbered.”

  He was right. Tears rolled down my face; I couldn’t protect him, and if we ran they’d kill us.

  Bang, bang, bang!

  Lucas and I both jumped, hugging each other and crying. They were at our door. They were going to take him. Each bang on the door ripped my heart into pieces.

  “Men, it is time to leave your families and join our fight. Come in peace and no one will be hurt. This is your only warning!” yelled the soldier.

  Father placed his arms around us and hugged us. Then he kissed the tops of our heads.

  “I must go now. These men are not joking, Jada. Stay away from them… protect your little Lucas.” Father turned to my mother. “Protect them all for me. I will return. We will be reunited again.” He gave her a kiss as he left.

  Tears streamed unchecked down my mother’s face, and before I even turned around, I heard the front door close.

  He was gone.

  Running back over to the window, I saw Father being handcuffed and blindfolded as the sold
iers pushed him into the back of a truck.

  Remember every detail, Jada, remember everything… I told myself that day.

  Helplessly, I watched as the truck disappeared, taking my father with it. My eyes filled with tears.

  I will find you.

  Chapter 10

  The Devil is Calling.

  GERARD

  “Faith will be okay, Charles. Tell Victoria not to worry,” I say.

  “Gérard, Victoria wants to speak with you. Good luck. Keep Faith safe, or you’ll have Victoria to deal with,” Charles jokingly informs me.

  Great. All I want is to be in the middle of a war, and now Victoria also wants one. I don’t know how Charles puts up with her. She’s a selfish woman, always going on about how we should be home, that this is not our problem. Every time Faith speaks to her, Victoria makes her feel awful. So bad, in fact, she’s stopped taking these calls.

  Victoria is telling Charles off in her phony, high-class voice. Faith sounds nothing like her… even though I’m sitting in a moving truck, I still hear Victoria barking orders in the background. Charles needs to divorce the evil bitch! I know he’s only with her because of Kyra, but really, I can’t think of anything worse than coming home to that every night. Faith and Victoria are complete opposites, thank God.

  “Give me the phone!” she yells at Charles.

  Poor guy really needs to grow some balls and get out of there.

  “Hi, Victoria. How are you?” I ask her as politely as possible. This is going to be a fun call.

  “Don’t give me that bullshit!” Victoria yells. “How is Faith? Was she hurt in the bombing at the hospital? Was she there? I need to speak to her now!”

  “She’s okay. She cannot speak, since she’s sleeping right now. We’re in a truck on the way to another hospital. Yes, we were at the hospital that was bombed,” I explain to her. I notice she doesn’t ask if I’m okay… bitch.

  “Wake her up!” Victoria demands.

  “Mom, calm down. Let Faith sleep,” I hear Kyra say softly in the background. Kyra is a sweet girl; she looks like a mini version of Faith, always able to calm her crazy mom down. Kyra is very much like Faith, and I know Victoria hates that. Almost as much as she hates me, but I don't really care what she thinks.

  “Hi, Kyra,” I yell. I know Victoria will hate that, but I can’t resist.

  “Shut up, Gérard! It’s your fault Faith is there! She would never have gone there if she hadn’t met you. Get her home! I don’t understand why you people are there anyway… It’s not your war!”

  I’d never intentionally put Faith in danger after losing Mia. She was the first person I cared for. After Mia died, I couldn’t let anyone else in. But Faith somehow found a way into my heart. I thought it was impossible to love again until I met her.

  Faith was the one who told me about this hospital; she forced me to come. I would never let her go on her own, and we had many arguments about coming here. But in the end, she won. I knew if I was here with her, I could keep her alive. I had to.

  “Victoria, you’re breaking up on me… I think we have a bad line.” I pretend the phone is no longer working and hang up on the meddling witch.

  Chapter 11

  Black as Liquorice.

  JADA

  My beating heart gets stronger and stronger with each step I take. I can hear it pounding in my ears, ringing out the song of a thumping drum. My heart longs for them to be okay. What horrors am I going to face when I reach my village? I pray to see my mother standing in the kitchen asking me if I’m hungry, and to see Lucas playing in the garden. What if Mother and Lucas were in the hospital and I left them?

  As I step into the village boundaries, the sun begins to peek out from behind the hilltops. I see the first rays of the sun grace the village before my eyes to announce the new day… a day that I’ll remember for the rest of my life. A day that will be more horrific than my father could ever prepare me for.

  I will never be the same again.

  My heart grows cold, and the icy chill flows down to my bones. My eyes widen at the sight in front of me, of the town I once loved.

  I am alone.

  Shapes of bodies lie on the path in front of me, leading me to my home.

  I feel myself tighten up and my feet cement to the ground, unwilling to move forward. I stand there trembling with rage… I want to kill them all! Every last one of those animals!

  Compose yourself, Jada!

  I look away from the horrific sight, trying to contain my anger. Instead, I focus to the side of me – it’s a village store, perfectly intact, the windows still in place and unbroken. No rubble on the floor. It looks perfect…just as I remember. There’s even a table outside filled with fresh shining fruit and vegetables.

  My body stops trembling and my muscles relax as I take a step forward, no longer frozen to the ground. I Approach the fruit stand and the fresh, sweet smell of citrus fills the air for a split second, then the air changes to nauseatingly rancid, almost putrid. The smell is so thick and rich, I can almost taste it.

  Without thinking, I take one step forward. Oh, God no!

  Mohammad, the store keeper, was a very old man who’d been out of town when the other men were kidnapped. Poor Mohammed was saved from the kidnapping attack, but now he’s dead!

  He lies in the doorway of the store with one side of his face burnt beyond recognition.

  His flesh is seared to the bone with angry blisters around the edge of the wound.

  Parts of his skin are gone, leaving nothing but charred and blackened chunks. He looks like he died in excruciating pain, the poor man. His mouth is gaping open, and I can see a flash of something green inside. An apple.

  My mouth fills with saliva, and I begin to feel woozy and get a stomach ache. No, I cannot be sick, not again. Looking back at Mohammad, the nausea is gone. Closing my eyes, the wooziness slips away, and my mouth feels back to normal. Am I getting used to the horror around me? Is that it?

  I’m not sure what makes me feel sicker, the body at my feet or that I’ve become so numb to seeing the carnage. I stand there in a daze. Is this all a dream… a really horrible nightmare? Am I going to wake up?

  “I can do this. I can get to my home,” I say to myself. What sights will I see when I get there? The image of my mother and Lucas fills my mind… of their burnt bodies. I cannot put it off any longer. I have to see my mother and Lucas. Please Lord, let them be okay!

  I have to see them now, so I focus on running home. Clenching my fists together, my body feels like a ticking time bomb of anger ready to explode. I see bodies lying on the ground, one after another, from the corner of my eye.

  The whole village is dead. They killed everyone. Hot rage burns in my veins; I want nothing more than to torture them all the same way they have tortured the innocent around me.

  Then I see something else, and I immediately halt. Is someone alive? I spin around in the direction of the moving object. It’s a black Labrador dog. He halts in shock when he sees me. Looking straight at me with his head slightly cocked, he just stares with his large, innocent eyes.

  He opens his mouth and flashes his pink tongue, like he’s trying to smile. I smile back. I love animals, sometimes more than people, because they don’t judge. All they want is love.

  His ears point upwards, and he begins to wag his tail. He watches me with hopeful eyes. I kneel down to the ground and pat my knees. “Come here. Good boy, come here.”

  He slowly approaches, taking cautious steps. As I pat my knees, he happily snorts and bounces towards me. My anger fades somewhat just by making a little room for joy over my new friend.

  He rubs his nose on the side of my cheek, leaving a wet trail. I place my arm around the dog’s neck, and he nuzzles his head into my side.

  The hairs on his nose tickle, and the warmth of his body fills me within a second.

  It has been a long time, too long, since I have felt a warm body. His whole body shakes as he wags his tail.

  His m
outh is open and saliva drips down as he pants with joy. He continues to rub me under the head. Pushing me to the ground, he licks my face, covering me in wet kisses. I begin to laugh. My laughter takes us both by surprise, and he jumps back in shock. How long has it been since he’s heard a voice? I stand up and pat my knees again. Within a split second, he is there, standing at my side.

  Don’t scare him off, I tell myself.

  I smile down at him. “What’s your name?”

  He just looks up at me with his big black eyes, tail wagging.

  “Mmm, I think I will call you Liquorice.” He flops his tail, mouth open, flashing his teeth. “Yes, Liquorice it is. Will you come with me?”

  He looks up and takes one step in front. It’s like he knows I need him. Maybe we need each other.

  I begin to run, hoping that he’ll follow me, and he does. Liquorice jogs by my side as both of us focus on the finish line. I know there are bodies all around us… the whole village must be here. As I get closer to my home, I think about the last time I saw my mother and Lucas.

  Where were they?

  I remember… they were in the garden playing with chalks on the path that leads to the front door. Lucas was drawing pictures of people, his favorite subject. Why was I not in the garden with them? Where was I? I need to remember!

  That’s it… I was in my room reading, lost in one of my silly novels, to take me out of the life I was living in. I must’ve fallen asleep before the attack took place. Maybe that’s why I’m still alive -- because I wasn’t near the blast. Mother and Lucas could still be alive, just like me.

  I begin to sprint closer to my house. I am here. My mother and Lucas are laid out on the front path. I quickly swing open the metal gate, just like when I was waiting for my father to return from work.