The day the Sun fell down
It's been 12 weeks since this terror has been on. The crushing and trembling atmosphere is what we all have to breathe in, as the military are not in any ways on top of this matter. It's been 8 weeks since dad has been at the battle line and nothing to hear from him. Mommy has been crying all nights since his departure even in her frail health. The little food we have is nearly exhausted. Hope all is going to be fine in the end. Can't wait to see my dad come back to tell me the tales of his military exploits. The radio stations are barely active, but so far, the death toll is said to have risen to about 1 million individuals and that happens to be the direct victims of the turbulence of the war, not to say the ones who die of hunger, fear, diseases and several others.
"Tony, Tony", mum did call me. Hearing her dreadful voice shake was petrifying as it has been a year, fourteen weeks and four days since she's been confined to bed. I'm always scared of the unknown most especially now that we haven't heard from dad. I do hope that he comes home very soon and that mum recovers in time to see him. Despite mum's suffering health, she still takes some time to pray for dads return and my faith to be strengthened in Christ. She doesn't even bother praying for herself, at least when I'm there. I really do love them both and I don't want to lose any of them.
It looks like today is the first time that I will be sleeping this early in weeks, because mum has used her drugs and is also fast asleep. "God spare our lives", a prayer that I learnt from my mother. So I guess that would be all for today.
"What a glorious Sunday, bless God for life", this I heard as soon as I woke up from the radio. I got on my knees as mum taught me and I prayed to God for protection and sound health for my parents. So I sprung up to my feet to my mums room and with a smile on her face, I was also smiling from a distance, knowing that she was going to ask me if I had prayed this morning. "Mummy, good morning. I have already prayed this morning", to my surprise, she didn't utter a word. In disbelief, I tapped her. I didn't get a response either. I didn't know when I started to shout and felt this sharp emotion in my heart. As I saw that smile, tears began to flow down my eyes like a stream. I realized at that moment that was the last time I was going to see her smile, pray, sing and teach me about life. Weakness engulfed my entire body that I didn't know when I fell to the ground. I wept bitterly and after some minutes, I summoned courage to touch her, I did raise her hand which was tightly wrapped round her Bible. I glanced through the portion of the Bible that she marked with her pen that says, "My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever". I broke down to tears again after reading this. I walked to the living room crying with a heavy heart and I heard a word from the radio similar to what my mother read last.