The mist folded into layers of fields, leveled with hundreds of stories like that of an industrial salt quarry. Its scent was certainly like it, sautéing iron exposed to rust. Within a refrigerated enclosure of ruins, bundles of vapor wetted every inch of surface, pushed aside by a fog that bore a ghastly smell. A sour, vomit-like taste, that could not be removed from their lips and tongues as they breathed in the putrid air, excreted from the drains and the newly-formed alleyways. Between altered houses which had grown crooked or collapsed, behind the rows of lamps snapped from its roots harnessed into pavements once. Pipes had surfaced, but since the days had gone by, its fires and gasses, its liquids and waters running from and to had all dried, remaining a grim stench that families of rats would live by problemless. Their squeaks laughed at the miserable creatures who had been bullied into hiding, alongside the band of the crows’ cackling caws. Together, they peeled off the flesh of rotting bodies marinated by the sea breeze, until their beaks and jaws were clamped with enough for their troops, fluttered and scampered home to feed their own. For days nature invaded and retook what was rightfully theirs as victims sat by, staring endlessly at their families and friends who had not yet been burned or buried with what was left of their dignities. Instead, their bodies slowly disappeared into dust when their skin had been stripped from flesh to bone. The homeless many found that their only form of entertainment were fires whose flames burned in barrels, in bowls and in cups, flickering a light on their emotionless faces that lined the streets. Defeated, ever more paled by fear and the cold. They shivered in coats and blankets with holes that provided little cover for the nearing height of winter whilst those faring better took advantage of their luxuries and kept away from the citizens on the path to death. There were no enforcers of laws on the outer reaches of the town when every garrisoning soldier had been called to hospitals and aristocratic estates rather, or were summoned by those who offered coin for their work as heartless mercenaries for protection or to do their ill-deeds. They lived an easy life, without a care for those needing. The result of such was heard soon. From gashing throats and the gurgle of blood flowing from innocents’ throats, their coins were stolen and their pockets were emptied for food. The footprints of the culprits were ignored and the individual and organized crimes were too many to investigate. Uncaring for anything and anyone anymore, but for themselves. Horror was ripe with shrieks of rape drowning the town from day to night unending for many. It could blind one’s eyes from what was seen and deafen another’s ears with what could be heard. Every good folk had lost all human integrity and the concreteness that was once the bastion of society crumbled. Reduced into the violence of the middle ages, the climate had changed for the worse. There was not a single betterment that came from the aftermath of the raid. Sensing the air that held a feeling of heartlessness, the sin of greed, seeded in everyone’s survival instincts, grew. But they were blameless. No one seemed what was once normal under the skies which darkened from a gray film and a white overlay demolishing the sunlight on the horizon.104Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡUMpSHrI3gt
Telling that the day had ended, his own life was trickling. Limping, only barely remembering how to walk, his footsteps were heavy. The boy hiked uphill with a bulk on his back, huffing steam that blew out of his lungs and skin. From his sheer heat like the running engine of an automobile in winter, whiteness shrouded him. Whose face was ill, from sickness and fear, he looked around and found himself as vulnerable as any other. Though he tried to pay no attention to those tracking and hunting him as carried on the road of uprooted trees. Its tarmac and concrete had cracked, forming uneven valleys and canyons that seemed naturally there. Avoiding ledges and cliffs that had been lifted or sunken by a quake that had washed by, the youngster stepped over his obstacles along the treacherous path, walked most days by the one that he carried on his back. A girl. A sister. Her arms were wrapped around him providing no same warmth as it did before. They were cold and slacked. Her head was slumped on a shoulder of his’ and whose legs were flopping on each step and its joints forever frozen by ended nerves. As children before, they had given rides on their backs by the other, playing about. But unmoving, she seemed lighter, having lost all her weight from no water nor food. Without breath, emotions, and thoughts. She had become an empty body whose soul had long departed, spirited away to be cast in judgement.
They came about a landslide from another side of the road and went up the path until they had struck a dead end, inconveniently barricading their way that took them directly into the town center. But the boy continued, shuffling along, with another target in mind. On course to where a house was sat on the far at its end where no trees were. Those standing were stripped to their trunks as if each had been struck by thunder. Their bark was blighted by a colorless tone, overseeing the gate that had been blasted awide. A wall led them home which they had not returned to in nearly a week. Yet in such a short span of time, everything had changed. Devastated. There were no neighbors to greet or see. No more cars that sped along its lanes. Smaller pieces of rubble had been hauled away, before the corpses were carted off too. Howling, the wind stormed violently. But no one was there to respond. Upon reaching their destination, the boy took a peek around a corner of hinges and found nothing that could be saved. A crater had been blasted through the topsoil in the center of their front yard, and though that bomb had missed, a second had crashed through the tiles, roofs, and floors of the house. The image of its crumbling roof could be imagined and replayed over and over, before the shell bore a deep hole in the living room where its windows and doors were ripped from its walls split apart. Ruins piled on the floor with shards and splinters of glass and wood. The perpetrator had not ended there and forever lingered for him to be reminded of, by the scent of charcoal on the black-charred rims of timber. Everything had been burned to cinders, collected into a pile of waste that every room had become. Compressed, what only remained was the sweeping view of the sea which impressed. Never had it ever been so clear in sight despite the devastation which had unfolded beneath at the foot of the hill. Every house had suffered the same, and he was not alone in suffering the agony of loss. Subject to deletion, the memories he once had whitened every second upon losing what had held it together. The home that was no more.104Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJMBgWB04hw
Onto a yard, he tread, and for once, it was the first time that they had come home together from a school day that had lasted days too long. The last strands of grass were killed with mercy under his boots and all life in their garden had been quietly quelled. Their fragile endurance finally ended. The boy followed the outskirts of the house where its walls formerly stood around the lands that felt uncomfortably unfamiliar and had to be charted anew. Careful for he not to trip nor slip, he tracked the safest route around and unhesitantly climbed over the ruins onto a path that laid beneath an arch of a collapsed chimney. Slanted plants and trees, fences, vines and flowers formed a striking canopy overhead, like a collage that seemed feasibly belonging to an art gallery. The hedges rubbed on his jacket and skin as he walked down the narrow way, scratching him until his soft, defenseless arms drew blood. But it was of an amount that he could not care for as he reached the end of his journey. Slipping through the last gap, there he was able to breath again upon arriving at a chosen place of rest.104Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBpwSXAilVx
Overlooking a panel of gray, the channel laid unreflective and silent. The port on its boundaries was empty as the fleets of boats and ferries had been sunk. Washed ashore, debris and bodies, who had yet to know what had happened, littered the once-scenic coastline from headland to headland. The promenade was safe for most, and there laid many tents but not many crowds, for only those with coin could receive the protection from the mercenaries and garrison that stood in wait for official orders which they knew would not come for weeks. Smokes of fires rose high in stacks and columns, feeding into the clouds that he was closest to. Seemingly closer to the heavens than the land of the people, where no warmth nor cold could injure him, the boy looked upwards and peered further out into the sea, knowing that a continent was there so close but unseen, where allied help seemed too distant to call out for. He felt alone on the bleak island, away from everyone that underwent tragedy too. Abandoned to fend for their own selves. In times of war, nature was no different than that of during peace, but if there was ever a disaster, it would be a thousand-fold worse. When his wish for salvation went unheard, he almost cursed every named god in anger. Yet the deities did nothing to hear their child. Sitting and watching on their thrones as the wrath of humans were brought upon other humans. Amused, perhaps, as they sucked on the juices of fruits and filled their vessels with gold. It was a prominent seat that only one could ever dream to have. His fists untensed, however, knowing nothing could be done, as he returned his eyes upon the earth where he was most belonging.104Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcp7GRunzpY
There was a ditch, dug out already as he had prepared a day before. A bed with a sheet and blankets was laid over the dirt and the roots of the tree folding overhead that was miraculously alive, providing what life it could to the small garden of flourishing flora that the boy slowly knelt down on. Although it had hurted his stomach which had yet to recover fully, he unloaded his sister from his back and placed her gently into the hole. She was unwanted to be seen anymore, whose appearance hurted his eyes which began to water. A piercing pain in his heart bore no more and the steel that encased it ran out of strength. Letting his tears run, he put the girl’s hands together and straightened her legs. With every inch of her body sealed in a new wrapping of thicker bandages, white and clean, her head was faced upward, as if praying towards the heavens where her soul was waiting for her next life to be reborn as whoever, wherever and whenever. Her brother prayed that she would not return into his world for it would be too much a punishment. Too much a torture that was belonging in hell. In mourning, the boy wept, kneeling and restrainedly. For her. For everyone. Whether it be to the pas, the present, or the future.104Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPdTnOLpnQn
