Tensions started to rise between the two factions, and it all seemed to be converging at a moment several weeks from the start of the violence. People were scared at first, ya know? They were afraid of what would happen if they lashed out. Then, slowly, they stop caring about the consequences. They started to yell, scream, getting closer and closer to an all-out brawl. While my Father always tried to calm things down and make things peaceful, it didn't seem like the Chief was doing much of anything at all.

It became more and more obvious that those serving the Chief wanted my father out. There were people yelling out profanities, and people had even started to throw things. Things like food at first, soft, almost silly things. But it got worse over time. Death threats, evil, hurtful comments being thrown our way. My Father would just take them and keep walking, not even blinking. It amazes me even to this day on how he did that.

When they started throwing rocks, though, that's when it seemed all break down. He started getting angrier, more violent. He would glare, chase people away, and he almost hit a few people. I knew that he was my Father, though, and I knew I could trust him to do the right thing.

For a while, I thought I did, anyways.

It was one particularly bad morning. I had been woken up by the sounds of argument between my Father and one of the people I had seen him talk with a lot. I peeked out to look just in time to see my Father grab him by the lapels and throw him against the wall. The man had deep, dark fear in his eyes, as if he was looking into the eyes of Death itself.

I cried out softly, and ducked behind the door. I knew that he heard me, and I just curled into a ball besides the door. The only thing that was going through my mind at that moment was how much I didn't want him to hurt me, as well. I heard him open the door, and I froze, burying my head in my legs. I felt him look down upon him, and I heard a soft sigh.

Then, without saying a word, he just left.

I knew, at that moment, that I was afraid of him. I didn't want to be scared of him, he was a good man. I knew it, even back then; I just couldn't help it after seeing him getting angrier and angrier. The very idea of him being angry made me scared. I knew that this wasn't normal, that this feeling couldn't be something that he was supposed to live with.

After that, though, I barely even saw my Father. He was out all night, and gone by the time I woke up. Sometimes I'd catch a glimpse of him, but he'd look back or even notice me. A part of me started to deeply distrust him after this. I had thought to myself, why did he have to hide like this? Why couldn't he just let me help? I'm strong, I could help him! Is he hiding something bad? Is… is my father hurting people?

I didn't know if he was or wasn't, but everyone seemed to start turning on him, even people that he trusted.

Sooner or later, I knew that I was losing my complete trust in him, too. I think that's why I eventually made the decision that ultimately changed my life to what it was.

Maybe it ended up saving it, knowing what I know now…

I'm sure that no information that I could have had would have saved him, though. Even down in Jeeha Village, he was broken, sad, and almost torn apart with grief and anger.