I could not believe what my eyes saw when I got outside. Houses were destroyed, and shattered windows left dangerous glass on the floor. I became more emotional and heartbroken. Everywhere was deserted and emptied; I was surprised that we were the only ones residing here. I looked straight at Jenny's house and saw how the first story of the building had been completely torn down. While on the last floor, the windows were blown out and some parts of the wall had fallen out. Tears continued flowing down as I cleaned them repeatedly with my hands. Everywhere was deserted with human beings. Kenny warned me to watch out for landmines on the ground. I looked at Kenny's face and saw how thick it was; there were no tears, but you could tell that it was bitter.
We continued walking along the district until we got to the bus stop. Children like us were there; some of them were in tears as many thoughts went through my mind. I wondered if their parents were also victims of death during the war. A lot of people were gathering there; I saw many mature women and old men there. I saw a month-old baby crying as the mother petted him while she was in tears. I had sympathy for her. There were some empty buses there. We wandered around searching for buses with drivers, but there weren't any. Kenny was frustrated. He told me that he was going to rest under a tree that was ten kilometres away. I felt like following him to the place, but an instinct didn't allow me to go along with him. I waved to him and promised to alert him when a bus arrived in the area. He hugged me warmly before he left. I watched him walk, but a terrible noise from planes flying caught my attention. Some people ran to hide immediately after they saw the plane. I stood there, perplexed and confused at the same time. Three girls stood alongside me. I noticed that they were of the same height as me and perhaps the same age as me. I went nearer to them, greeted them, and then introduced myself to them.
"Please, can I know your name?" I asked the girl with short wavy hair, wearing a black top and yellow leggings and pink lips.
"Anna, nice meeting you," she answered, with a tense face that was supposed to be strange but seemed normal to me.
Then my eyes changed their position to the next girl standing beside her.
"What's your name?" I asked the girl with dark glasses, thinking she might be wearing them to hide her tears. She looked pretty with her pointed nose and the dimples that sucked in while she talked.
"Huh? I'm Daryna," she briskly said.
I asked the third girl, who wore traditional clothes and had long, straight hair that touched her breasts and fell on her forehead, "What about you?" You could tell from her eyes that she had been crying as it went in.
"Mylana," she replied.
"Are you sisters?" I queried no one in particular. But funnily enough, there wasn't any response from any of them. I felt dejected; it looked like without Kenny in my midst, my life would be boring and creepy. Tears flowed out again as I cleaned them immediately to avoid stares from people.
Just then, I saw a yellow Marcopolo bus driving in our direction. My heart raced with numerous thoughts. I ran to where Kenny was, despite the fact that the place looked blurry and hard to see through. I remembered his comments as I reached the tree where he indicated he was going: "Watch before you step your legs." The place was looking strange; I saw some metal on the ground. I tiptoed my way to the tree, but unfortunately, I couldn't see Kenny.
Where is Kenny? Where did he go to? I mused, rolling my eyeballs everywhere, praying to catch a glimpse of him.
I wanted to shout his name, but I restrained because I might trigger those creatures into hunting for me. I took a step, but before doing that, I had thoroughly looked at the ground. As I continued my manhunting skills with my eyes, I saw a body lying flat on the floor. I became scared. Within me, I prayed that it wasn't Kenny.
I walked nearer to the figure lying down on the floor. There was a pool of blood that flowed like a river, and I knew something bad must have happened. I walked nearer, and the identity became clearer: it was Kenny. The clothes spotted him out. I dashed straight at him, not caring if there were any mines on the path I stepped on. I went to my knees immediately as I called his name. He opened his eyes and then smiled while tears dropped from my eyes.
"Kenny, how did it happen?" I said, using my left hand to take up my hair that obstructed my vision.
"I feel pain; I'm dying; please…he…help… me," he stammered with a croaky voice.
I used my hands to cover my eyes as tears rolled down them, and then I inhaled deeply. I removed my hands from my face and pitilessly stared at Kenny. I didn't know what to say at the moment; I kept on staring at him as he closed his eyes and then squeezed his face.
"Why was I born into this world, why? Why" I said to myself.
"Kenny," I called, but there was no reaction, so I called again, hoping for a response, but he wasn't answering.
"I'm still young for all this trauma. Why is all this thing happening to me, why?" I sobbed even more.
I held both sides of his face with my hands and then called him again. Suddenly, he spoke out with closed eyes.
"I'm out; I can see paradise; I need to enjoy myself," he whimpered unconsciously.
"Kenny, stop; my life would be meaningless without you. Once you leave me, I will commit suicide instantly; it is enough; I have endured all this trauma; life is empty." I shivered.
I opened his eyes forcefully with my hands. His eyes were white, and I couldn't locate his eyeballs again.
"Kenny! Kenny!" I called out his name passionately.
I couldn't imagine that, in my life, I would see death right in front of me. I continued to sob on his chest until I heard a tough, rough voice just at my side. I looked up, and it was two soldiers holding guns in their hands.
"Come, let's go to summer camp," said one of the soldiers.
"Sir, please kill me with your gun. Blow my head out. I don't want to live again." I pleaded with them.
They exchanged frowns, and then one of them instructed his colleague to cuff my hands and attach me to the bus.
"Please shoot me; that is all I need; I don't want to go to a summer camp; I really want to die, sir; please kill me." I begged them as I held Kenny's clothes so tight.
One of them who wore a military cap said, "We don't shoot people who want to die. Tie her up and put her on the bus."
His other colleague took a handcuff out of his back pocket trouser and came nearer to me as I watched him approach.
"Should I? Or you can simply stand up and follow us. Choose one," he commanded, as he stared at my face.
"Sir, kill me. That's what I want," I whimpered.
He sighed and then dragged my hands forcefully. I gripped Kenny's shirt very tightly, to make it literally hard for him to remove my hands. He continued dragging my hands so it could be removed from Kenny's shirt. As he continued dragging my hands, I tightened my hands on his shirt to the extent that I began tearing Kenny's shirt. He then stopped, looked at me with a sinister face, and began punching my hands as I screamed out.
"Sonofabitch!" I exclaimed.
He gasped for air and then started hitting me angrily and repeatedly with both hands. I felt pain in my hands, with fatigue gradually creeping in. I released my hands from Kenny's shirt.
"This bastard, I thought you would hold it forever. Bastard!" He quickly handcuffed my hands and forcefully dragged me to my feet, not minding the fatigued state I was in.
"Move! Move! If you don't move, I will kick you like a ball," he threatened.
I looked at Kenny. I nodded. I saw his two feet separated from his body.
Truly, life is empty; my life would be miserable; I don't care about the existence of my father and my siblings. They should never miss me, because I won't miss them again. I pondered, still staring at Kenny's body. His smile made me remember the first day he arrived at my house.
"Move!" thundered the soldier who gave his fellow colleague the order to handcuff me.
After he spoke out, his other colleague pushed me from behind, and I nearly fell if not for him holding my hands. I staggered my way back to the bus stop, where the Marcopolo bus was. I saw some women crying profusely, and then I began to ponder the reason for their cry. An insinuating thought clouded my mind immediately. I stopped walking and stared around. I saw seven soldiers with weapons and wondered if they were hiding or had followed the bus.
I hope they aren't taking us to their land. This was the thought that went through my mind.
I looked straight at the bus. The age group I saw inside was more composed of children below and within my age bracket.
"No, I am not going to a summer camp; please leave me here." Tears rushed down my eyes again.
"You're a bastard!" said the soldier who handcuffed me as he dragged me nearer to the bus.
"Death! Where are you? Why did you decide to leave me all alone?" I screamed out.
He managed to get me on the bus and removed my handcuffs before the door closed. I was still standing, looking for a chair to sit down on, when the engine of the car roared into life as the journey began.
The bus stopped and it was dark and scary, I couldn't tell if it was still night or morning because the digital clock was turned off. What I knew for sure was that we spent hours on the road. We looked at the environment outside through the glass. The streetlights and lights from a building made the outside look shiny. I thought the building might be a hotel. The door opened as the soldiers inside the bus ordered us to come down in a gentle and intelligent way. I was the first person to come down from the bus. I stared around. Armed men were around with their vehicles in strategic spots. It became terrifying to me. After waiting for several minutes, a young man in an army uniform with a pointed nose and oblong head approached me holding a pen and book.
"Your name?" he asked.
"Bria…. No…. Konovalov," I stuttered.
He scribbled it down immediately and looked up again: "Your last name."
I started crying immediately.
"Stand aside," he said, and then pushed me out of his way so that I fell to the ground.
I cried until everyone finished registering, then I heard people speaking in Russian language to each other. Then I felt someone dragging me up as I wrestled with the person. Suddenly someone carried me up like a baby from the ground and took me into the building. I kept on crying until they dropped me on the bed and left.
"Why is my life like this? Why am I the only one that is designed to get all this evil predicament?" I whimpered to myself.
The door screeched and then opened up; it was Anna, Daryna, and Mylana who entered inside. I stopped crying and watched them enter the room.
"You've been sad from the onset—you entered the bus with the handcuffs—what actually went wrong?" asked Mylana.
"I'm alright. I was stubborn; that's why I was handcuffed; I refused to listen to instruction from those…hear…t. soldiers," I stammered, cleaning my face.
"I saw you and a boy when you arrived at the bus stop; where is he?" asked Daryna.
I vibrated; it was as if I were electrocuted after hearing that question. I couldn't imagine myself answering the question. It was tough for me. I tried as much not to bring out tears again.
"Talk, Mila, we are together. I felt bad when I saw your moody face and you lying on the floor before you were brought in. It gave me an instinct that something went wrong somewhere; will you talk to us? Please Mila," responded Mylana.
"My best friend, the only person in my life, was killed by a mine." I exploded in tears.
"It is okay… We are also victims of the war. Life is too short for us to spend it in tears," said Daryna, "I also have a story to share with you, just look at my face. I am putting on eyeglasses, not a transparent one but a dark one. There is a reason. In which I would be telling you soon."