.The Tear that Escaped.

As I got ready for the departure, I felt her shiver and her body shutdown. She did not want me to leave, for she had fought so hard to keep me, but I knew it was time. Time to let me go; time to surrender; time to accept that there were forces greater than us at work, and that they were unstoppable.

****

The air was filled with the cries of innocent wounded people, the ground was coated in blood like sugar would coat a wet knife, and the sea; the sea was dense with the bodies of those who were shot running haphazardly towards the ships.

She had known her time was coming. After all, how long did she think she could survive? At first she had hope. She had, even during the intense bomb showers, stared at the ceiling of the shelter and imagined a better life; one closer to the one they had before, when they had been a happy family living in their quiet house near the ocean. But after mother died her hope had run out. Father had already gone to fight, and though mother said he would come back, they hadn’t heard from him in weeks, and she knew that the chances of him coming back at all when a horrific war was taking place in the country were almost null. She expected mother had said it mostly for Anna and Trevor. They were but children, and it was the work of the devil, mother said, to take away the hope of a child.

They were told to stay in the shelter the whole time. No one was to go out at night or they would be shot. Murdered. Just like that, that’s exactly how they had said it, as if the life of a fellow human-being was nothing, as if being from another country meant being from an inferior race.

Mother had gone out that night. Anna was sick, and they needed milk. There was no other way. The children had begged her not to leave, but she said if she didn’t Anna wouldn’t survive. She told them that her heart could not stand losing another one of them. That’s when they knew father was dead. With that stunning profession she left them, and the next time they saw her but fifteen minutes later, she had a bullet shot in her corset and blood was seeping into her dress like water flowed out of a tap. She had placed the milk on the table and then fallen to the floor. Anna, like any other eleven year old started crying hysterically, whilst Tommy, only five, had pushed himself into the corner of the shelter, eyes wide and hands shaking.

Mother called to her children towards her then, telling them not to weep, that nothing could be done now. They sat beside her as she told them how much she loved them, and hugged her as she sung to them. As her voice grew frail, and her clasp on their hands grew week she pulled her eldest daughter towards her.

“My darling, you are the oldest now, you are in charge of the little ones. Look after them, love them, and do the best that you can to keep yourselves safe.” She had said, wiping off the tears pouring out of her daughter’s eyes, “Sweet Elizabeth, do not cry. You must be strong, if you fall apart all will be lost. You must be strong, you must not cry… You must hold on…” by the end her voice was almost a whisper, and indeed she was not alive to hear her daughter’s agreement to the promise a moment later.

She was buried in the woods the next morning by Elizabeth and a young boy who offered to help.

The milk had helped Anna, it had made her stronger, but not for long. Within two weeks it was clear that no amount of milk would help her. She needed medical care. Elizabeth planned to take her to see a doctor who was in a shelter a few miles away, but she had never made it through the night.

Her body could not be buried. By now the situation in the little town was so dire that everyone refused to help. So little Anna’s lifeless body was taken and thrown into the sea, joining the many other scattered bodies floating in it. Elizabeth could not watch; she could not look at the sea the same again. Its beauty had been scarred by the image of her beloved sister’s corpse floating in it.

Now it was just her and Trevor. He was too young to understand what was happening, and yet old enough to feel the pain of the deaths. She could do nothing. She could not save him. She could only hold him each day and sing to him each night. Hope against reason, she prayed for her brother’s sake that all would be well. That they would be free. But sometimes things just aren’t in our hands.

By the time the war had reached the town there were hardly any people left. And yet the soldiers showed no mercy. They killed everyone. Children, adults, elders, none of these words meant anything to them. And as Elizabeth stood in line holding the frightened Trevor, she willed herself not to cry. To be strong just as mother had said. She looked around at her town, her home; it was destroyed. Beautifully crafted houses were now piles of rubble, the sparkling blue-green sea was now grey and red, and there was hardly a tree standing or a bird singing. The sky had turned musty, and the clouds black; a sign that rain would soon come down in showers. It was as if nature was rebelling against the horrendous change these men were bringing; it was turning ugly, just like their soulless bodies were.

Shot by shot she could hear people dying.

As she looked into Trevor’s big green eyes, knowing there wasn’t much time, and she forced herself to forget the world around them. She forced herself to focus on him. Clutching him to her chest she told him to shut his eyes. “Soon it will be over sweetheart, and then you will be with mother and Anna.. with father and grandpa.. and grandma and Bo..”

“And with you?” his small voice squeaked out, “You need to be with me too, so that we can play games like we did before. You, me and Bo will run in the garden!” His words reminded her of them running in the field with their beloved dog Bo. How much fun and freedom they had had. Where did it go?

“And with you?” the shivering boy repeated again, his voice getting smaller by the minute.

“A-and with.. with me.” She chocked out, kissing the boy on his head. “Now shut your eyes.”

He shut his eyes at once, and she shut hers too. Suddenly a shot rung out. Instantly the boy went limp in her arms. Another shot, and she fell to her knees, still grasping the frozen body.

She felt a deep burning in her stomach, and felt her blood pouring out of it at tremendous speed. She lay there, welcoming the silent darkness, aware that she was alone now, that in these last moments only her mind was alive to keep her company.

Had she failed? Mother had told her to keep them safe. She had not. But she had tried her best, and she could have done no more. She hoped they would all be together in the next life, and she hoped they would be happy. As she thought of life before that war, life with laughter and love, she realized all that she had lost. She realized her story had ended without really having a beginning, and she wished that it could be different. But this was no time for wishes. This was the time to forget. The time to let go. Whatever had happened in the past had been out of her control. Finally the pain that had started with the first bomb drop would end. Finally she would be free.

I had to leave her now. She was ready. Letting me out would give her happiness.

As the hot air hit me, I knew that she was now content, and I forged forward down my path.

She sighed slowly; her last breath in this world. And she lay there; a girl of almost seventeen, holding her brother whilst her body became cold… the perfect picture of serenity amidst the harshness of the world.

A slight smile on her face as she let me go.

I, the tear that set her free.

I, the tear that escaped.