Zhang He fluttered his eyes; his dog had just stuck her cold wet nose into his face. Still sleepy, the young boy pushed her aside gently and rolled back into his covers. She was persistent though, and pulled the blanket off with her teeth, whining. He started to become impatient; he was tired! He made a grunting noise and pulled the covers back over his head. The animal gave up, and he heard her jump off the wooden pallet he slept on and run out the door. He smiled to himself, thankful that he could get back to his beautiful dreams. That's when he began to notice the smell. He sat upright, and a red glow greeted his eyes. Now alarmed, the five-year-old leapt from his bed and out the door. Where had his family gone? No one was in there. He was all alone. Smoke started to fill his lungs and he sought an escape from the chaos. As he opened the front door, a sight met his eyes that would be engrained in his mind forever. His village was being burned to the ground. Men were running around with swords, the people were screaming. Homes were burning to the ground, smoke filled his lungs, stung his eyes. Alarmed, he did the only thing he knew how—he ran. As he turned the corner around his small home, he stopped in horror. A soldier stood up from where he had left his mother on the ground; his young mind didn't comprehend what this man had just done to her. He smirked and walked away, leaving his mother there as if she were trash. Tears flooding his eyes, Zhang He ran over and collapsed next to his mother, holding her face in his tiny hands. She smiled through her tears as she looked at her only son. She grasped his hand and tried to speak, but she could only mouth the words "love you" before her grasp went limp. In shock, and holding back tears, Zhang He stayed there, in his kneeling position, unaware of all that was going on around him. His world revolved in that tiny little space, the alley between his home and the city wall. Traumatized, he stared at his mother, her bloodied body, her ravaged clothes, and those dark eyes, those eyes that had last looked upon him with love, but now started blankly at him. And he cried. The bubble he was in burst as he was yanked up by his hair by another soldier. His raunchy laughter filled the boy's ears as he tried to struggle, but he was no match for the grown man's strength. Not wanting to meet the same fate as his mother, he struggled as best he could, praying for a miracle. His prayer was quickly answered as his father, a handsome man, jumped from behind a burning bush brandishing a sword. The soldier let the boy in his arms drop as he held his spear in a ready position. "You'll not take my son." His father said calmly, but there was a rage hidden in his voice. The soldier smirked and spat in the ground as if this man before him was not worth his time. Zhang He's father charged, but his attack was parried. The soldier placed his foot in his gut and sent the man flying to the ground, where he landed in a puddle. Unable to do anything but watch from where he was, Zhang He watched in horror as the soldier stooped over his daddy and picked him up by the collar. He lifted him close to his face, and uttered the words, "I'll let you live if you'll serve me." Zhang He's insides twisted. What would his daddy do? The daddy who loved him, he took him on special trips and trained him? He didn't want his daddy to serve such an evil man, nor did he want him to die. His father snarled and responded with, "Your words are evil!" With that, the soldier threw him to the ground and stepped on his neck, putting enough pressure into it to keep him from standing. Zhang He's father pulled at the foot, struggling to breath. Then the soldier plunged his sword into his belly, ripping through flesh and tearing apart his insides. And he left the weapon there as he walked away, pinning his victim to the ground. This time Zhang He was filled with a different emotion, something he had never felt before. Rage filled him. Thoughts of revenge filtered through his mind. Hatred poured out. Looking down at the ground, he spotted a garden tool that had five prongs coming out of its handle, and he picked it up. The spear in his father's flesh would be too heavy, so this would have to do. It's edges were sharp enough. He sprinted past his father's body and after the soldier. He was resting against a tree. How dare he rest when he had caused such destruction! The boy didn't care what happened to him. He only felt the need to inflict hurt. Taking the tool and pulling back with all his strength, Zhang He plunged the prongs deep into the soldier's back, where there was a gap in the armor. The man shrieked and turned as Zhang He pulled the weapon out. He was lifted by his middle as the man bled from the wound, and Zhang He swung again, at the man's eyes. He was dropped and hit the ground hard as the man grabbed at his eyes. And he plunged in again and again, images of his mother's eyes staring at him. Of his father dying. Of not being able to stop any of it. Even after the soldier fell, he kept at it until he was exhausted and colapsed to the ground. Blood covered his face and he looked down at his hands. He was unable to think of what he just had done. It seemed that the soldiers were through with their despicable work, and were clearing out of the town. He slowly rose and stumbled over to where his father now lay. His head had fallen to the side, and Zhang He lifted it from the ground and gently kissed his forehead. He then stood and pulled at the spear, but try as he could, it wouldn't come out. He cried in frustration. Temporary comfort came to him as he felt the nudge of his beloved pet, the only familiar thing in his world anymore. He sat on the ground, knees drawn up under him, and wept bitterly into the animal's fur. The last thing he heard was the animal's yelp as he blacked out.