The sound of the water and wind was almost intoxicating as I lay there. Soft droplets hitting my face and cooling my body. My head swelled with ache, and my eyes unfocused. My neck felt stiff and rigid. I forgot why I had come to be here. What brought me here. I closed my eyes and let the sound sooth me. Wash away the doubt in my mind, I had come to know peace then, in the way the whole planet seemed to still as the sky wept. A thought prodded my mind, tormenting it with one foreboding question…
Why... Why did the sky weep?
I looked to the sky, as if I could find an answer there.
I could remember some metaphor or hyperbole in the irony of where I came to be now. Something about sacrifice and sorrow and the skies echoing sadness in some cosmic drama. It occurred to me that there was no drama here. That this was not some play or show to marvel at from the audience. The wind gusted, the ground shook violently, and it brought my senses back to me. I lifted my head, causing the ache to come back. I could not hold back the groan, but I pushed passed it. My head throbs, but I somehow manage to recall, as I stare up at the disaster engulfing the sky. I look down to the small form under me. My boy… Barely out of his egg. I had not yet begun to name him before the cataclysmic quake shook the whole of our planet. Cracking the roof of our home...
That's right… the roof…
Blue grass and Ajiisa leaves caught in the wind.
The quake… it must have caused the house to collapse. My… my boy! The pain in my back returned as I shoved the bit of rubble off of us. I held him to me, and fear gripped me when I realized as I cupped his tiny head in my hand, that he was bleeding. I place my clawed fingers on his little neck and checked him for life. Relief washes over me as I realize he still drew breath. His tiny heart still beat. Rain washed away the bit of blood on his face from where it had pooled under us…
I tried to stand, panic nearly overtaking me when I felt another quake shake the earth under us. The ground shifted and lurched under me. I needed to get out of here. I needed to get /him/ out of here. Stumbling to my feet, I hold him to me, his small body limp like a doll in my arms. Every fiber of my being was set in worry over his condition. Would he live? Would he die? I could not dwell on this. No. But it was this fear, this worry for him that fueled me. I only vaguely heard the screams of my brethren and neighbors. I had only one goal in my mind. One thought. Make him safe!
My ship wasn't far from the house, but the shaking and my own condition made the journey seem much longer than it should have. I was probably not the only father to be doing this. Rushing about trying to keep his family safe. I get to the ship, and use the command to open it. The pounding in my head reminds me that there was something else, something I thought I was missing… something I was forgetting. My eldest son's cries finally reach my ears, and I realize he was still in the house. I place my youngest on the lift, I remember telling the ship to leave if I didn't come back in ten minutes. To take him 'somewhere safe'.
As an afterthought, I wrote a note from the task book I always had on me. I must have been shaking, my writing wasn't neat. I stuffed the note into my boy's gi. The lift rose, closing my youngest inside as I made my way back towards our home. I found my eldest son, his leg was broken, and his head was bleeding. He was frightened, as any eight year old would be. I lift the rubble off of him, but I could not throw it to the side. We argued, as we always did, before he slid himself out from under the rubble. I don't recall what sort of speech I gave him, if it gave him courage or not. He was in tears, said something about my injuries. I ignored him. Yes, I felt the pain in my back, in my neck. I knew something was wrong. Perhaps a broken bone, or some foreign object protruded. I didn't care. I didn't have /time/ to care. I had no time to think. Only time to act. An Ajiisa tree flew past us, nearly knocking me down. Renewed pain shot up my back, throbbing at my neck and pulsing in my head.
No time…
I picked up my eldest son, who clung to me. We were both soaked, in blood and rain. We were almost to the ship. We were almost safe when the quake hit again. I could not stop myself from falling this time. I made sure to land on my back, fearing my weight would crush my son. I do not regret it, even as the branch ripped through my sternum. I had never seen the sky so dark as it was on that day. I saw sparks in my vision. I was no longer myself, I was a being of haze and pain and worry. My eldest son was crying over me, nearly wailing in unison with the wind. I saw my ship ascend to the sky.
All I could do was smile. The weight of anguish lifting from me as my vision finally began to fade. The pain along with it.
At least one of them…
Would…...
….finally
….be….
safe.