The war to end all wars

I’m fighting this war- shells jump in the smoke of my mind and gunfire sounds long through the night. Children cry as I stand; a silhouette as the war rages on as the distant memories of loved ones fade. My thoughts are abandoned and fill the streets as homeless men and women that long to be found. Figures die before me as I lay in the hole among the dirt and the flames fill the buildings that once housed a happy soul.

The war rages endlessly, as if there will be no end and the dying fill another day with screams and howls that plague my mind and replay for hours, sometimes days. But the effects will never lift and a shattered soul will never be stitched without the cracks being seen.

Inside my head, I’m a woman and a soldier, but at times I see through this little girls eyes- the terror that overcomes her and the memories that taunt her. She lost a brother in the war- his wailing consumes her darkest nightmares and turns every sunny day into a whirling storm. His dying words and the expression that last etched his face hang in her mind, like the men in the trees. At night, she wakes, startled and alone. She sleeps once more, only to enter the vicious cycle again. Her mother puts on a loving expression when they’re together, as if this war outside their window doesn’t exist- she can’t cope.

She can’t cope with the fact that the brother her daughter lost was not only that, but a son and a dearly loved friend. She can’t cope with the fact that his body rests in a pit among thousands of other bodies and he’s nearly unrecognisable now.

Her husband is out there every day, fighting to end it. He wants to return to his little girl in a years time for her birthday to save her. He wants to take her away and show her the world when there isn’t an air strike or bomb hazard. He wants her to wear pretty dresses and play with the other girls, rather than being ill inside. He’s dreaming of that day.

Her friend knocks on her door every morning, and walks up the wooden, creaky stairs to see the same pale face in the same worn out bed. She sits on the bedside and tells stories and talks of the outside world, and how much she wants this girl to join her. How she wants to see her smile again at the flowers in the meadow or in reading the books she once loved, or simply to talk to their friends at the lunch table in school- to feel normal.

Her brother that she lost fought the hardest for her. He took himself into the frontline of the war to stand between her and the cold, harsh enemy. But on one fateful day, his bravery was to be no more, his heart no more to beat and his face no more to smile. However, his love endeavoured to show her the way; to lead her to the promised land in safety.

All the while, her mother never knew the battle he fought for her. How he would lay down his life for her; how he would make the ultimate sacrifice.

The people in this story represent people in my life today. And their significance is indescribable. They fight so hard for me in this seemingly unending struggle that only I can put an end to. One day, it will be lifted and one day, I will reach that promised land.