I yawned and then opened my eyes gradually, and then I stared at the window. I was surprised to see the rays of light that emanated from outside. Perhaps it was because of the numerous thoughts I had about Kenny and not knowing if missiles were launched at night. I quickly rushed out of the room, and what I saw made me thrilled. The passage was sparkling. The tiles were brighter and more finely swept. I tiptoed to the living room where he slept last night, and surprisingly, I saw the TV on. I was surprised to see Kenny seated and watching the news with a sad face. My mood gradually soured again. I walked nearer to where he was sitting and watched him keenly. But he didn't observe my presence. I stopped and then watched the display on the TV. I saw people digging near our farm, with "mass burial ground" written below. My eyes became misty immediately. A wistful memory went on in my mind. I thought about the days when a virus caused deaths in massive burial grounds like this, which inspired me to write the poem 'Tough Times.'
"Oh, you are here," Kenny spoke out.
I quaked after hearing his dull voice. I wasn't expecting him to take notice of me because I made sure I stood at his back.
"You finally saw me; how was your night?" I asked, trying to cast a shadow on my moody appearance.
"I woke up around 3, and I have been awake since that time," he said, while staring at me.
"Oh, you've made the house sparkle to this point. You are really amazing."
"It is my house, so I have to make it clean," he smiled and stared at me.
I smiled at him too. "What made you wake up, Missiles?"
"Missiles? I think their stocks are empty," he retorted.
His word reignited hope in me. I sat down on the chair opposite him. "What then woke you up?"
"You sleep early, you wake up early, as simple as that."
"What are you then implying?" I asked.
He squinted his eyes. Perhaps he didn't understand the meaning of what I said, but after some time of pondering it, he smiled and spoke out.
"Oh… I get it; if you sleep late, you wake up late," uttered Kenny.
I stood up from my chair and was about to leave when he spoke out.
"Don't leave me here, Mila," he said, standing to his feet.
"No, I am not angry. I want to do some cleaning, and then I will come back so that we can play chess and chat with one another."
"Alright, I will be expecting you soon." He said and sat back down on the chair.
I waved goodbye and smiled at him, then walked out of the living room.
After 40 minutes of cleaning up, taking a bath, and getting dressed, I grabbed the chessboard from my siblings' room and went to the living room. When I got to the living room, I saw Kenny in tears. I fidgeted. It came as a shock to me. I wondered what might have triggered him to shed tears. I went nearer to him and wrapped my arms around his neck. I was broken. Tears dropped from my eyes.
"What happened to you, Mila," I asked with tears welling up in my eyes.
He didn't give any response and continued wailing.
"Please tell me, what happened to you?" I said it in an internalised tone.
"I saw how they buried corpses in the mass grave," he finally said.
Tears fell from my eyes as I nodded pitifully. The chessboard slipped from my hand, opened up, and clattered on the floor before rolling away. I watched it roll.
"What fell?" he asked, staring at me with a sudden, frightful stare.
"Take a look at it," I said, pointing my hands to the floor where the chessboard fell.
He bowed to the floor, saw it, and then cleaned his tears with his hand.
"Oh... so... so," he stammered before clearing his throat, "you do have a chess?"
"Yeah," replied I, releasing my arm from around his neck. I crouched down and started picking up the chess pieces from the floor. The thoughts that came within me were unbearable, and I struggled to keep the tears from falling. I picked up the chess pieces and placed them on the center table. I asked him to play while I arranged them in the correct squares, and hummed a sad tune. He looked at me, his eyes were in a reddish colour, as he grinned a little and then yawned.
"Are you hungry?" I queried.
"No…I just have a feeling that something bad might happen to one of us," he spoke out in a fretted tone.
The controlled tears that were chained and bound into its prison, unlocked its chain and removed the padlock that held it captive and rushed out. My hands became feeble, my heart melted, and then my voice changed when I tried talking.
"O bozhe (another name for "Oh my God")! Kenny, why are you so pessimistic? Why do you always make ominous statements that end up being true? But I know we'll never lose each other. We would grow up, and we would both tell the child that is developing in my stomach about the war. Don't you think so?"
Tears ran out of his eyes as he nodded to my statement. I interpreted his gesture with so many concepts going through my mind.
"Is that what you dreamt last night?" I curiously asked.
"That wasn't my statement!" he briskly said.
I stood up and then walked straight to the TV, located its socket, and turned it off.
"Why?" he exclaimed.
"It is disturbing your mentality. What you see happening on TV is fake. Pure fake. Don't you know that those stupid creatures are controlling our city? Are you aware they control the TV satellite in Kherson? Don't you think they have started their propaganda?" I shouted.
"That was what you said before the war. Don't worry, put it off; come, let's play chess," he beckoned.
I cleaned the tears from my cheeks as I felt relief from the anxiety gripping me. It looked like I screamed out all the trepidation going on within me. I became very happy, and I also wished Kenny would be as happy as I was. I was about to start talking when he interrupted me.
"Do you know the meaning of chess?" he queried with a smile that greeted his face.
"No," I answered suspiciously, "tell me."
"C- chariot, which is a rook; H- horse, which is a knight; and S- soldier, which are pawns."
"That's really nice."
I chose the black piece, while he had no other option but to accept the white piece. I kicked off the game.
"I skipped over the part about seeing many of them in training when I talked about my war experience," he said, moving a pawn to the front of the queen.
"Is it that important to say?" I questioned, why I was staring at my game before dragging out Knight.
"They were about six or seven of the chessboards I saw, and some of my colleagues there played it for several hours. Which sparked my curiosity to know about it and its importance. I met a colleague there and asked about its importance. He said playing it increases concentration and reduces distractions."
"Was that the reason you learned it so fast? Because in school, you don't pique an interest in it when our fellow student plays it," replied I.
"Yeah, I wanted my level of concentration to increase because I imagined myself killing the enemy's soldiers," he said.
I was about to start talking when we heard a very loud noise as the house vibrated. It looked like something was actually getting destroyed. My heart raced with so many thoughts. The noise continued. It looked like a very big stone was dropped to the ground.
"Let's go out; something is getting destroyed; let's go and see it," Kenny said briskly.
He held my hands and dragged me out of the living room. We stopped immediately. We stepped our feet on the passage floor. I stared at the roof, and I saw some parts being bent and cracked. That noise continued.
"Let's go outside; a missile has struck here," he said, but he didn't even finish his statement when I saw the flare of fire emanating from the kitchen.
I screamed out and became rooted to the spot. Kenny was about to run when he noticed that he was the only one running. He came back to me and said, "Mila, please come out; the house is about to collapse." He dragged me outside.
It was pretty much worse than what we saw inside the building. A part of the house had cracked and was about to fall to the ground.
"Look up," said Kenny, pointing his hand to the roof.
I followed the direction of his pointed finger. I saw fire coming out of the roof as hot tears ran out of my eyes. I remembered my clothes, my phone, the chessboard, and all the kitchen equipment left in the house. I saw the wood used for the roof damaged and broken, while some of the wood was burned by fire. I was about to go inside when I noticed that he had gripped my left wrist with his right hand. I slyly tried disentangling my hands from the tight grip, but all to no avail.
"Please, can you just allow me to go inside and get something?" I pleaded in a hoarse tone, looking up at his face.
"Oh Mila (a name for sweetheart), nature would provide for you," he consoled me.
"But who would help me? Everybody is in a distressed state. Just please let me go and take at least a cloth, please." I continued pleading, with tears dropping to the ground.
"No mila…you will get burned," he cautioned, wiping away the tears that rushed out of his eyes.
"I promise, I won't, just please, I'm pleading..." I pleaded.
He looked at me, cleaned his tears, and tightened his grip on my wrist. "Mila? I would go and get it for you, but promise me you will stay outside while I do it."
Why would he volunteer to go inside a burning house and leave me here? What if the fire caught up with him? Who would be my companion in this fiery life? I mused.
"No, let's go together," I said, still trying to remove my hand.
As soon as he started talking, the fire gutted the whole house, and we had to run five metres apart due to the fire catching up with the main entrance door to the house. I started crying immediately. It was the worst scenario of my life. I couldn't believe that all the precious items kept in the house were engulfed by fire.
"Mila, don't you think we should just leave this country?" He advised staring at my face.
"We are Ukrainians, so how do you think we can escape from our country?" My question made him ponder a little bit.
"Now I remember the time we the soldiers were being transported to Antonivka, there was a refugee bus that took women, old men, and children out of the city. I think that would work out."
"So, where are we going to see one of those buses to take me and you out of this country?"
"A tough question to answer, though," he answered, "but let's try our luck; it might work out, and again, I saw on the TV that Russian are giving children here in Kherson a free visa ticket to their land; don't you think it is a good idea?"
I cried more when I heard him say that. I never knew that he had the mindset of residing in a terrorist country where all humans were killers. They had the DNA of killing and maiming in them; it runs through their blood. At first, he was confused, with no idea why I cried as he kept on asking questions. After a while, he realised that what he said had a disastrous impact on me. He then started consoling me and gave me a lot of encouraging words. He assured me that he wasn't going to take me there or join them in collecting the visa. When I heard the assurances he gave me, I stopped crying and got back to my feet. He cleaned my tears with the back of his palm as I tried not to stare at the burning house. I smelled the smoke. The ashes flew around as I watched them. It was really painful and disheartening.
"Mila, let's leave here," he said.
"To where exactly? I hope those stupid creatures aren't there on the street," I spoke out, trying to maintain a good tone.
"Damned!" he exclaimed as tears ran out of his eyes as he cleaned it immediately.
"What happened?" I curiously asked, trying to be clairvoyant, "Was it because I mentioned those heartless creatures?"
"No worries," replied Kenny as he pursed his lips, holding my hands, "let's leave here."
I never wanted to say anything again to avoid him from shedding tears again because it looked like my words were triggers for him. I sheepishly followed him as I tried not to turn my face back, despite the wistful memories going on in my mind.