Memories
My country. My home. My nation. My story. My war. Myself.
Many people believe that being born as a country is no more or even less painful than if you weren't one.
Believe me…, it is .People call me Haven.
My name is Havendland and this is my story.
X X X
My birth
Now, I'm sure none of you inhabitants of my land are even aware of what it is like to be born of fire.
But I am….
It is most dreadfully painful
I remember seeing a lot of colors that seemed to be swimming in and out of my bleary watery burning vision. I remember the sound of my mother's shuddering, the frequency of her rumbling contractions i remember that feeling of soaring up, up, up into the tunnel, the pain, oh the excruciatingly antagonizing pain was all I thought of as I burst out of my mother violently.
And then after what felt like years, mind you they felt like they were painful hours, I felt father wash over me gently his water soothing my sore burning back. I hear birds twittering, animals barking, growling, mewing, hopping, bleating, swimming, and any other sort of noise my new young ears could hear.
X X X
The first thing I remember is that I had lungs. Now I was aware that I could breathe. I took my first breath of air. And with that first breath of air, I realized I could move around and I couldn't hear my mother's rumbling anymore.