I could only think of one thing as I ran through the crumbling village. The clash of metal and shouts and cries of death rang through my ears. The repulsive smell of smoke was blatant and I wrinkled my nose and tried to pull my shirt over my face as I ran through the town. I hacked feverishly, every breath becoming tougher and tougher to take as I inhaled the thick smoke. There was an increasing burning sensation in the back of my throat as I panted into the hazy midnight air. Burning crimson embers fly past my vision, coating the warm, ash-greyed ground. I glance up at the calm full moon in the sky, a drastic difference from the raging flames covering the ground and surrounding me, but both worked perfectly together to light up and fight off the darkness that threatened to take over every night. Sweat clung to my shirt, the fire surrounding me chasing away the icy cold of a fall night, but replacing it with a nauseating and almost unbearable heat, the fact that I was running as fast as my stumpy legs could take me, running longer and faster than what was my normal physical capabilities, purely in adrenaline and fright, did not help the heat and how close I felt to blacking out. The flames that licked the air seem to take pleasure in tasting each and every inch of the broken down houses and precious belongings that had once been, but were now reduced to piles of ash and rubble under its fiery wrath, the grief, despair, and misfortune of others seeming to fuel it and its desire to destroy and devour everything in sight. I run and run and run, wanting to stop, wishing to stop, but knowing that I can't. That I need to keep going and continue, for the safety of mom. I leap over burning furniture and other ashen items, dodging the tumbling houses and rooftops, clumsily tripping over some of the singeing wreckage a few times. I made a great effort in trying to ignore all of the piles on piles of bodies that seemed to go on forever and pretend they're not there, keeping my head held high and looking straightforward, knowing that if I dwelled on them too long I would probably breakdown, seeing all the people I had grown up with my whole life disappearing into the dark and mysterious abys of death. No matter how I tried, every dead body I caught out of the corners of my eyes contributed to the dwindling of hope that the few people I couldn't bear to live without were alive in this disastrous mess. Some of the people I saw were still alive, softly moaning and groaning cries and desperate pleas of help as their heartbeats faded into an eternal sleep. You can't stop for them, I silently scolded myself as I almost stopped for an old fragile man whispering quiet prayers to the gods, what have they ever done for you anyways? The years we lived in this village have been torture and endless agony because of people like him! I fight back the tears and sadness and replace them with burning hatred because it's much easier to hate and pretend than to face the facts. The fire stings my eyes and they begin to water anyways, making my battle to keep back my tears basically worthless.

As I see my destination come into sight, the very top peeking over a hill, I attempt to pick up my pace, but my legs refuse to go any faster, actually doing the opposite and slowing down, the adrenaline that had seemed to be pumping through my veins just a second ago suddenly gone, an overwhelming wave of tiredness washes over me, but I force myself to keep going, the thought of collapsing now after all this work to get here enough motivation. By the time I'm nearing the top of the hill I've slowed down into a half-walk, half-jog in variations, with a bit of a limp.

I reach the top of the hill and slump in weary relief. I crave with all my being just the slightest bit of rest. After all the physical exertion, I just longed to lie down and take a nap, my body feeling limp, my chest felt like somebody was stabbing me with every movement I made, my legs feeling empty and jelly-like, but at the same time tingly, like someone was poking and pricking me with a thousand tiny needles. All my body wished to do was rest, even if for just a second, but I knew I couldn't afford it, that I had

been running on spent time for a while now. I take a few steps forward when suddenly I trip over something and fall face-first into the hard, compact ground.

The putrid smell of charred rotting flesh suddenly grew overpowering and made itself known as I slowly push myself up and cast my gaze to a fallen tent. I move my legs so I'm not crushing whatever I just fell on anymore. I lift the cloth cautiously, my eyes narrowing. As the horrific sight comes into vision I fling myself backwards and stumble until I crash onto the ground. I quickly bring my hands up to my mouth, my whole body heaving as I begin to hyperventilate, my mind almost unable to comprehend the dreadful sight, the graveness of the situation finally seeming to kick in. Is... Is it who I think it is...? I try to take big, easy breaths, but I can't manage anything better than harsh gasps, looking like a fish out of water. I try to calm myself down again, knowing that at this rate I was going to cause myself to pass out. In... Then out...

Steadily, I regain as close to a normal breathing pattern as I could get under the circumstances. I carefully proceed towards the body again, making an expression that made it seem like I was afraid it would jump out at me any second.

When, I finally reach it I take a deep, shaky breath. I'm about to lift the material up again when I abruptly break into a coughing fit. My throat feels raw and my breathing is even hoarser than before by the time the coughing has ceased. The fit knocked me back a few feet so I try to push myself back up, but half-way through my legs go rigid, and then give out under me and I crumple to the ground. I stop to catch my breath for a second and then give it another shot, but my legs refuse to move an inch, they just rest in a worthless heap under me, too worn out to do anything else. I utter a curse and then take a big heaving sigh which quickly develops into another coughing fit. After I recover, I once again attempt to drag my body over to the lifeless form only a few feet in front of me. Once I reach the body for the third time I stretch out my arm, wobbly and unstable, but still attentive, I remove the bloody hide from the upper half of the body so I can get a better look at the stiff, cold body lying on the ground. A sob involuntarily escapes from the back of my throat as I finally get a clear look at the person lying on the ground. My grave suspicions were being confirmed and my hopes that this situation could get better were instantly crushed, the small fragments of a wish that there could still be something good left in this catastrophe dissipating into the air. The ridiculousness of the fading idea made me wonder how it could have ever lodged itself into my head in the first place.

"Mom, "I cry out, "Mom... please... please no. Please move. Tell me it's just a cruel joke. I don't care, just please, please, please tell me you're alright... "By the end of my pleads, my voice has died down to hoarse whisper. I already know she can't hear me, and that it's no use, but I still talk.

I grab her pale, rigid hand, refusing to accept the excruciating truth. I squeeze unbearably hard, to the point that it's paining my own hand to hold on. I loosen my grip and her hand immediately falls back down, resting in my hand. I start bawling like a baby, resting my head on her lap, remembering how she used to run her hands through my hair. Easing the sadness away with her soothing words and calming touch.

I cry for what seems like hours. Clutching her still hands, pleading that by some miracle she comes back. After a while, my sobs begin to quiet down till there just sniffles/hiccups and small gulps of air. As I lay there, I make up my mind to go back to the shrine. The place that started this. He might be there... "or at least what's left of him. "I whisper.

I'm about to leave when suddenly, I turn back and drag myself over to the body again. I bend down, my heart feeling heavy in my chest, and bring my trembling hand up to my face, I kiss my hand and then slowly bring it down to her, pressing it onto her forehead just like she would always do to me right before I went to bed. "Night, Mom. Love you. "