The Weight of Silence

It took seven days to completely exterminate the spiders and recover the bodies, or remains, of those we've lost. After that, a mass burial was held. It was a day of grief. More than half the village population was wiped out. A lot of children were orphaned. The village was in shambles. The once happy and beautiful place I called home was destroyed in one night. The government officially declared the village uninhabitable and everyone was to be relocated to the city. I took one last look at the village as the truck started heading to its destination. The sun was already setting and its last rays hit the now desolated place. I fought back my tears, afraid I would break into pieces. I glanced at the others. They all had the same helpless look in their eyes. Most of them were my age, some even younger. The reality we had to deal with at such a young age, fate's too cruel. I felt tired and weak. It was going to be a long ride and so I let myself drift off to dreamland.

When I woke up, it was almost morning. The truck just passed through the city's borders. I had a headache and was sore all over. The city was still quiet, only a few could be seen walking the streets. The truck made a couple turns and stopped in front of an old building. The soldiers gently helped us off the truck. We all stood awkwardly by the entrance. The soldier knocked a few times and the door was opened by an old woman. She had wrinkles on her face and some noticeable gray hair. Despite that, she was beautiful. I especially liked her eyes. They looked kind and warm. The woman spoke with the soldier, and then smiled at us. Then, she welcomed us in. We entered the building cautiously. There were children in the entry hall. They were running around like wild animals on the loose. There were children playing and shouting in glee. The others ran towards the fun. I remained standing there. I wanted to go too, but I remembered my brother. I remembered how we used to play together. I remembered my mother and how she used to caress me. I remembered my father and all the stories he used to tell me at night. I used to have all of them by my side. Then suddenly, I had no one. I was on my own. I wanted to mourn. I just wanted to let all the tears out. I walked toward the wrinkly old woman and asked her to show me to my room. She looked at me with worry, but she gave me a comforting smile and held my hand. She led me to a big room with plenty of bunker beds. She pointed my bed, near the biggest window, and told me to rest. I spent the next hours lying in bed. I did not eat. I couldn't. It felt so wrong. Why was I the one who survived? My father was strong, my mother was brilliant and my brother was courageous, so why me? How did a helpless little kid like me escape that nightmare?

I isolated myself from everybody. I never talked to any of the kids in the orphanage. It just seemed like being happy would be an insult to those who weren't as lucky as us. I slept, ate, took my bath, and slept again. Sometimes I read books. Most of the kids prefer playing games so I usually had the library all to myself. The books became my best friends. They helped me relax and control the longing. They were my escape from the torture, from reality. My brother would have loved to be there. He loved studying. There were so many things to learn, so many pages to read. I closed the book I was reading and made a promise. All their dreams I'll fulfill for them. They may be gone but they're still here in my heart. Always.