There wasn't much food found in the ruins but it could have let the child to get by at least for a few hours. Nodin needed to find some clothes for her, hers were drenched in blood. As he was looking around, her eyes, her lifeless eyes were not even blinking.
"Will she be alright again?"
He thought and he wondered.
Having to survive in the post-war world they were thrusted into wasn't easy on him either, but the child, the child who was supposed to be enjoying life as she was growing up, after witnessing death in such young age, how could she remain the same? How could she not be affected? Of course, it was hard for her, like many other children who got and get involved in war.
"Who started it?"
Nodin was disappointed. Disappointed in the world, humans, the sky, the clouds, everything that passed through his mind, disgusted him.
"It's nothing like how I was trying to live till now, it's even worse."
It didn't take that long but the sun was about to set, he headed back to the child. She must have been feeling scared being alone by herself.
The child was still sitting there staring at nowhere, his heart ached so much, like a dagger was hitting it repeatedly.
"Will she be able to live as she used to?"
Nodin's mind was about to explode. He had to act strong, he had to be someone that the kid could trust and rely, so he couldn't give into crying about her situation, he couldn't imprison himself in the dungeon of harsh facts, he had to move on so the kid could smile one more time.
He put down the supplies he had found, and gathered everything he could to start a fire.
"The child must be freezing, even though she doesn't seem to understand she's cold."
He set up his little campfire with everything he could find. The child seemed to be a little less stiff. He took the clean clothes he had found, then placed the child near the fire and tried to change her out of those she had on.
"I'm gonna change you out of your clothes. Is that fine with you?"
She didn't respond.
He changed her clothes and put the other ones in the fire. The child was not moving at all, even barely seeing. He checked her vital signs time to time to see if she was alive. She had become a doll, with one difference, the respiration. A doll left by the attack of the enemy. He tried to reach out to her but she did not move her lips, did not move her head, did not do anything but staring at the fire.
He prepared food and placed her in his arm to feed her. She did not even want to eat, even though Nodin told her to open her mouth but she did not do it. He opened her mouth to help her eat something.
Spoon by spoon, tears by tears, those two sat by the fire trying to figure out what they were going to do.
After a bit, the child moved. He was happy to see her move after such a long and miserable day. She had fallen asleep. Her eyes were finally closed; she was finally free of the world even for a short time. Nodin wanted to make a bed for her but he did not dare to move. She was finally able to relax; he did not want to disturb her.
"She must get back to her senses tomorrow, she has to."
Nodin was holding her and thinking about her future.
"What happened to her parents? Were they killed? Or did they escaped leaving her behind?"
.
.
.
"No that can't be. No mother would do such a cruel thing to her child."
He sighed quietly.
"It doesn't matter what happened to them, what are we going to do? I didn't even bring my phone. The enemy troops targeted this place first, there were no sign of them in my town. It must safe. We have to leave for my house."
.
.
.
"Where are others? There has to be other survivors, we can't be the only survivors. Am I right, Lord? Are you watching us? My house is not destroyed, right? My Lord! Please answer."
As he was desperately praying for their tomorrow, he fell asleep.
The two of them slept beside the fire. Silence had devoured everything in, not even the crickets were there, not even the owl, not even the bats, it was only the moon, the fire, Nodin and his new little friend.
The sky was adorned with the shining stars that used to be the cause of many gatherings. People in that vicinity used to tell their kids about the stars, their stories, how they ended up in those shapes, about the constellations, their history. They valued such stories.
Many teachers tried to teach students the way of living, they tried to help them out to be a better person, but none was as efficient as the stories which grandparents used to tell their granddaughters and grandsons. Many had died, mostly the elderly, the ones who knew the stories. It was hard to believe everything was gone.
On the other side of the town, another group who had survived the attack had fallen asleep beside their campfire. It was a cold night.
A man and woman, in their late twenties, had survived. The woman's eyes were crying. She must have lost her precious family. The man, too. He was in pain. He had lost his home and above it all, he had lost his left hand. He was sweating a lot. His groans weren't coming to an end. His clothes were stained with the blood that kept coming out of what was left from his hand.
In the whole area, there were only four survivors who weren't together, and no one else was able to escape death.
Right on the first day of the week, people would work hard to make a living and start a new life, and it always came with its own surprises, as life was getting harder and harder, the fresh start of the week got out of reach but no one ever predicted war. No one thought someday their new week would get crumbled like that, houses getting destroyed, families getting drifted away, people dying, people getting killed, children losing their childhood, adults losing their chance to live like they had wished for when they were young.
And it all happened in one day. Just in one day, humanity got serious damages.
"WAR"
"WAR"
"WAR"
"STOP THE WAR!"
"WAR IS NOT WANTED!"
K.D