Dear Mom,
Thanks for the letter. I am glad to hear that you and Dad are doing good with the girls. I’ll try to keep this short.
The pastries were good, me and the lads loved them. I didn’t know what to expect when this war started. All 6 of us shoved into one small house in Ardougne, just trying to survive day to day out there. I remember when I tried to pull being sick so I wouldn’t have to help you in the shop or help Dad with out in the fields.
And now, we’re all just trying to survive out here. Fighting for something I don’t even understand. One Lord and another not liking some other Lord. I wonder sometimes if they listen to their own grand speeches, saying they’re doing this for us. While they sit in their towers and keeps, dining on pigs while we barely had enough water to make a thin soup.
They all want the same thing in the end, no matter what they claim for it. Wanting the same fancy chair and the same fancy hat to say that they’re the best. You know how I used to be Mom, those big dreams of making it big somehow and becoming some fancy Lord with a big castle.
But I can see them, Mom. When I shut my eyes, late at night when the air goes silent. The screams, the smoke, the smell of death in the air. I always wanted to be a hero, the Knight in Shining Armor, like all the stories you told me and the girls when we were all younger. All I have now is nightmares of that glory in battle, remembering how long it took to scrub the blood out of my clothes, the red stains that refuse to leave.
It’s a reminder and at night, the nightmares. Oh Gods, I wish they would stop. I see him, no older than Anna, this little lad with a sword in his hand. I ran him through Mom, I killed him. And all I can see is his face at night, reminding me of what this war has taken from all of us.
--
Myles
A lot of Characters | World 42
08-Sep-2016 02:47:31
- Last edited on
08-Sep-2016 02:48:08
by
Geythir