Black Out

Sometimes I can still feel the grasp of my mother’s hand, my skin ripping in its path as she was torn away from me. My eyes burn with the images of pain I’ve seen, my family being murdered one by one. My throat burns with soreness, as I wanted to scream for mercy but I couldn’t. My ears tickle from the whisper of my mother’s last words to me, “Shh” she told me, “Don’t make a sound”, she ran off into darkness with a brave face, leaving me in midst of my tears under the floor board. I crawled under to where the living room was and watched Looters kill my parents, and all I could do was let out a silent whimper. And when their blood finally leaked through the floor board and onto my clothes, I crawled out and left what use to be my home, my sanctuary, my everything. Life was perfectly normal, perfectly complicated. Until everything complicated became very simple; survive. Now I cherish the wind that blows through my hair, the sun that kisses my skin, and the stars that shine a light, because it’s the only thing we have left. I love easy, I admire more, I smile fondly, because in a world of so much darkness, light isn’t easy to find.