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August 2022 Fiction Contest: Mourning in Ukraine
August 30, 2022
A disarming warmth of light spurs me awake. My back is hard against the concrete. I am sore, and my ears are ringing. I open my eyes towards the ceiling, and light filters through. It tickles my skin, and I recall the picnics with Mother. A man moves over me, concealing the light. He looks distressed and speaks words I cannot hear. He starts to shake me. Suddenly, there is a rattling crack, and he is sent into my arms. I push him away. Shrapnel protrudes his stomach. Reality sweeps over me, and I begin to weep. I am at war.
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I'm not from Ukraine, but I feel terrible about what's currently happening with Russia and the war. It's hard to conceptualize, but somewhere right now, people are exchanging missiles and bullets. People like us are being forced to kill each other, not because either is good or bad or even really because their beliefs are different. They're average people pitted in war because of the groups they belong to and the leaders that command them. It's a horrible situation that even recent adult teens (18y-60y) have to participate directly in.