Sometimes I wonder to myself how things could have been so different. If we didn't have a war. The sound of the fountain, drowned out by the march of soldiers as I reflected back on that day in June. The day the Nobility Army marched into Phonecia. Forces loyal to the crown had been decimated at the Akko Highlands, so they drafted civilians to help fight. Not that we objected, of course we wanted to fight, but some of us probably shouldn't have.
My older brother got sent to the front lines, while I was told to help around the city with chores, organizing, feeding and help care for those who were in the city and fighting. They taught us how to listen for gunshots, the ping and ring of a bullet whizzing through the air. Avoid dirt mounds in your travels because they could be mines. Never step in standing liquid because you don't know what could be in it.
These habits still plague me to this day. I don't go anywhere near cemeteries, not even to honor my dead brother. Instead I built a shrine for him in his room. It has a picture of him in Imperial Uniform dress, as well as an incense burner with his favorite mint smell. People always say I should destroy it, but it comforts me somewhat. To know that I have not completely forsaken him or spat on his sacrifice. People always tell me that the cemetery is safe, but the field in which they buried all those men was riddled with mines. I should know. I remember helping them move them into position. The only safe way through the field was along the shallow grave of bodies 5 meters to the left of center. Naturally we don't use the field anymore to bury people. People now mostly prefer cremation anyways, and they keep the urns on mantles.
As I open my eyes and look at my lunch, I can still hear my mother rushing me, "Quickly, eat it before it goes cold or someone takes it from you." A habit I still keep to this day. Very rarely does food ever last longer than a few minutes on my plate. This time being a rare exception as I think back on past events. The Nobles when they occupied Phonecia often took most of the food. We all fought for scraps, unless you had someone on the inside to bring some of it out. That person for me was my mother. She was a chef, something I had wanted to be when I grew up. Mom would make the tastiest of meals out of the least of ingredients. I had learned from her how to taste test and be a connoisseur, but all that stopped with the occupation. Mom scraped together what she could, often feeding me before she fed herself. In hindsight, this is why she made me eat quickly, so I wouldn't notice her not eating, or eating the lesser portion.
The Nobles put us under martial law. If we wanted to do something we had to be careful. No playing around, no noise, no laughs. Just a serious tone and movement along the path. We were taught to keep things neat and tidy so that nothing would impede our escapades. A ladder out of place, a squeaky toy on the ground, the crunch of leaves, and the splash of a puddle were all things that could give you away. The others always joke that my house is always so spotless. I can't help it, it's just me. Even when I eat food, I don't ever drop so much as a crumb, and carefully wipe my mouth and hands after each meal. People assume it's because I'm a germaphobe, but with all the shots I've had, germs are and always have been the least of my worries. It was to always go undetected. I remember once being caught. I was fourteen and they made me spend the night in the garrison. I didn't get a wink of sleep that night. I got none until I found myself in my mother's embrace the next morning. I apologized over and over, tears streaming down my eyes for being caught and causing her trouble. She of course was happy to have her daughter back. There were others who didn't make it through the night. Killed by the occupying soldiers directly by their weapons, or indirectly by their shame and grief.
I remember a few years ago, they wanted to play paintball. I remember it because it's one of the few times I've ever seen Raine Avalon refuse something. As the round started, and the bullets began whizzing past my ears, I saw it. I remembered the smell of gunpowder and blood. The screams of agony and the still silence that followed. They told me they had found me collapsed. I didn't remember. I don't remember much from that day. Ever since then I've avoided paintball or anything of that sort. Even hunting. I found out Raine actually freezes the same way I do, so we talk about it from time to time.233Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwgkDQzbJVK
As I take a deep breath and remember all these weird habits I have. Maybe someday I'll be able to get over them. But considering all these events happened ten years ago, it's very unlikely. I guess I'll just keep up the facade that my concern of Health and Safety was voluntary and not forced upon me. That my concern is borne out of a concern for others and not a response borne out of self preservation. 233Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡu0t4UtuzSi
