Fiction: Group 2
***
He crouches in the corner of a street. His heart pulses, filled with fear. He sees a mother clutching
her baby. He looks closer for the faint rise and fall of its chest, but sees no movement. His belly tightens at
his realisation. The baby will never take his first steps. Never grow up… because of one’s hatred
. What have
I done?
Last night
He stalks swiftly through the village, holding a handful of flaming branches. As he passes each hut,
he flicks a stick near it. His heart burns with satisfaction of long-awaited revenge.
Now you know
, he
thinks.
When I was a child, both my parents gone, you didn’t help me. You cast me away, left me alone.
Let’s see how you feel when your young are taken away.
He accelerates and throws the sticks, watching and laughing naïvely. Oh, the sweetness of
vengeance!
He shakes his head, clearing away stray thoughts. He realises that a wall of fire is inching its way
towards the mother. He runs to reach her. At least he can save one life; to compensate for those he has
taken.
Bam.
Flaming branches fall down.
Smash
. Piles of cement and debris land around him; his path is
barricaded.
How ironic,
he muses coldly,
I will die in the disaster I created.
***
I stand up, thinking that my sisters would be worried out of their minds by now. How long have I
been gone, anyway? I look at where I last saw my parents, and then start to leave, but not before pain throbs
within my chest, choking me with tears.
I pass the sites of wreckage, pondering how to face my sisters with the news. I blink, and glimpse
movement at the corner of my eye…
A man stands amongst dirt and rubble. They are slowly catching fire, enclosing him in a blazing
circle. Age has worn his rugged face; his eyes are hesitant. I step closer to hear what he is muttering.
“I never should’ve taken revenge,” his voice is faint against the winds, “I’ve created so much pain,
caused innocent lives to suffer. I’m sorry. Oh, let my life end, for I will forever be haunted by the ghosts of
those I destroyed!”
He staggers with slight arrogance towards the fire.
“Stop!” the word spills out, out of my control. Startled, he pauses.
He says bitterly, “Why should I stop? I deserve death. I’ve only inflicted agony. I’m a monster.”
“Every single life is special,” I raise my head in defiance, “why not continue living and doing good,
instead of grumbling about past sorrows? I myself try not to do that.”
My voice quietens to a hush. “My parents were killed, but I must still go on. I can’t leave my sisters
alone.” Tears border my eyelashes again.
The stranger blinks. “There is a mother, not far from here. I wanted to save her…” he gestures
around him at the debris.
“Then we’re in this together,” I confirm.
“I—I’m sorry,” he murmurs, slightly hesitant. Silence has never been this loud.
