He lay there on his bed that night, Candlewick did. He just stared on at the low ceiling, before turning to his side and closing his eyes.
The silence was deafening. Soon unconsciousness snuck up on him and he was out for the night.
At least, that's what he hoped.
He saw his father there, right before him, looking at his son with such disdain as he dropped the gun before Candlewick's very eyes and said to him.
"Shoot the puppet,"
Candlewick became frozen at his words... some of the last words his father would ever speak to him. He wanted to reject what the man had said to him till he heard his father scream.
"Take YOUR glory and SHOOT the PUPPET!"
"GAH!"
Candlewick screamed this as he woke from the dream... the nightmare. But the same image from what he had seen moments later at the camp is what made his heart beat fast.
A bomb colliding through the sky and landing upon his father. It KILLED him.
Candlewick believed it was because of himself... that his father was no longer with them alive.
He was panting heavily in his bed, before timidly getting to his feet. He slipped on some shoes and a nightgown before coming over to his window and staring outside to the dark sleeping village.
He knew what he needed to do. Get away from the guilt... get away from it all.
He pushed open his window and climbed out. He was soon where he needed to be.
He tapped on the glass, peering through it into the quiet dark room. He whispered the name to the one he needed to see.
"Pinocchio...!"
The puppet didn't stir in his bed, so Candlewick tried again. He tapped the glass on the puppet's side of the bedroom, and finally, Pinocchio, sleepily opened his eyes and sat up on his bed, yawning as he asked, "Is it morning already..?"
He turned his head to the window to see, but when he saw the shadow of a boy, he froze up scared.
"W-who's there?!"
"Shh!" Candlewick shushed him, and when Pinocchio realized who it was, a big smile grew up the puppet's lips, "C'mon," The boy whispered to him and he nodded, getting up and opening the window, sneaking out with his friend.
"What are we doing up..?" Pinocchio finally asked as the two found some thick vines growing up the side of the house, the two getting the same idea and they climbed up them.
They soon landed their butts on the roof's tiles and looked up silently in awe at the stars and galaxies so forever far away.
"I can't sleep..." Candlewick finally said, and Pinocchio looked at him puzzled, asking.
"Why not?"
"Because, whenever I do... I always see the same dream,"
The puppet remained quiet after that and Candlewick brought his knees to his chest, just rocking there as he looked on into the distant towns.
"I always dream of him..."
Pinocchio knew then in his core who him was, "Your Papa...?"
"It was my fault he died..." The boy whimpered before the two suddenly tensed up as in the distance was the sound of bombs going off in faraway towns. The two looked on ahead silently, as the booming and red ominous glowing light could be seen polluting the sky ahead.
The puppet didn't know why, but his heart began to beat faster in fear of the sight. Bum bum, bum bum.
"D-do you..." The puppet whispered to his friend then, Candlewick wincing his eyes a little when he heard another bomb drop, "Do you think they will hit here as well...?"
"The last time there was a missile dropped in this village... only one person died,"
"Who?" Pinocchio asked innocently and Candlewick stopped rocking himself, looking at him and said with sad empty words.
"Carlo..."
"Oh..." The puppet uttered back.
Carlo... he would never be Carlo... but in his heart, he knew this boy was somehow within him. Whether because he was Gepetto's son now... or for other reasons he just didn't know yet... but he would know... in time.
Candlewick squinted then, as the sky was no longer peaceful dark blue filled with a universe of stars. It was a horrific apocalyptic deep red.
"I'm sorry about your father," Pinocchio said, and only gave a yawn as he stretched his wooden arms but for some reason they felt the littlest bit different.
Like they almost had the strength of bones... he knew deep down his body was changing... but... but why?
"What did the blue fairy promise you?" He finally asked his friend and Candlewick glanced nervously his way as he responded.
"That you would live..."
"Was that all?" Pinocchio asked, curious to know and Candlewick gulped, nodding his head, before slowly coming to a realization from within and shook his head in more truth.
"And also... that one day, you will be a real boy... a human being..."
Pinocchio didn't know how to respond to this. He just let his wooden legs dangle at the edge of the roof before saying in a quiet whisper, "A real... human?"
"She only added that bit once I had given up half my life," His friend explained sadly, and Pinocchio was so very silent as he gazed back out to the thudding noise of chaos in the distance.
"Oh..."
The two were very quiet now, and the puppet, at last, smiled widely as he said to his friend.
"I... I will have skin and organs and a brain and a heart!"
"You have a heart already!" Candlewick laughed and Pinocchio added on quickly.
"A second heart!"
"Humans only have one heart, silly!" Candlewick explained and Pinocchio's wooden eyes widened at this realization.
"And I will go to school and have many friends, and I will be like them..."
"Yes," Candlewick confirmed, but deep inside, he was afraid to tell Pinocchio what would happen when he became fully real, "Pinocchio..." He uttered and the puppet looked quickly over at him, eagerness in his wooden eyes.
"Yes, Candlewick?"
The boy remembered what the blue fairy had said to him... that once Pinocchio became fully man... he would die.
And so would Candlewick.
So would he.
He remained still for that moment, before gulping and only looked down as he muttered, "Nothing..."
The puppet's smile grew wider and after another fifteen minutes, the two departed and went back to their beds.
Candlewick lay back down, just staring up at nothing and listening in deep pain at the sound of bombs exploding and killing many lives, so many lives away from here.
He had never known Carlo, but that boy's death had devastated this village. It had destroyed the church, the bomb had. And not only that but destroyed the man, Gepetto too.
It was nearly over a decade ago when Candlewick was still only a babe... but such a long time for a grieving father.
The boy slowly closed his eyes and fell asleep.
He saw his father push the gun towards him, Pinocchio by his side as his father said.
"Shoot the puppet,"
Candlewick started to shake and the man demanded.
"TAKE YOUR GLORY AND SHOOT THE PUPPET!"
And the rage, the fear, the anger and the sadness came over the boy just then as he gripped the gun hard in his hand and pointed it at Pinocchio.
"-Don't"
BANG!
It was too late for the puppet to say any more. He collapsed to the ground, Candlewick panting heavily in and out as he slowly looked at his only friend... and then the gun in his shaking hand.
"You did good, boy," His father said to him, the man standing up and appraising his son.
Candlewick then turned at him, the gun pointing at his father and the man tensed for a second, before uttering the cold words.
"You don't have the guts,"
"You killed my only friend!"
"No, boy," His father said back to him, "You did."
BANG!
But it wasn't the gun that had taken the shot. A missile sailed through the sky and slammed into his father, blowing the whole camp to smithereens.
Candlewick woke up, hyperventilating as he sat there terrified on his bed.
The sun was beginning to rise now in the distance, the golden light streaming through his small glass window.
But he just sat there, inhaling and exhaling and he heard his mother's voice as she called out to him.
"Candlewick! Come down for breakfast!"
He was shook inside at that moment... seeing the blood of his father on his weak trembling hands. He swallowed heavily and nodded his head to himself, trying to forget what he had seen... seen so many times it was now engrained in his mind.
That explosion that night at the camp, and how it would've just been another ominous red light in the distance that no one would know the wiser about just how horrific it had actually been.
"Candlewick?!"
He clenched his eyes closed for a few seconds, trying to wipe out the dream.
And his heart thudded hard in his chest as he whispered to himself.
"Why did I take the gun this time...?"
He was thinking about his actions in the dream... just at how angry and crazed he had become for the first time in this nightmare. Like he had lost all his inhibition and had given into cruel animalistic instinct.
He had killed his father that night... but in truth, his father had killed him inside every time the boy had tried to please him, but could never live up to the impossible standard his father had set for him.
Was he a murderer...? he had shot him in the face with yellow paint. He had seen his father stumble back and get entangled before the bomb landed on him from the heavens.
He had seen him die... seen so many of the boys die and yet HE was the one that had survived.
The son of a heartless military soldier.
And he had cried in that cold bed the night before the bombing, as he listened to Pinocchio describe his own father. Candlewick knew then, as the tears ran down his cheeks, that his father wasn't what a real father was meant to act like. He just couldn't control his tears... but that night, he had made a friend.
Someone who he had seen as the enemy... a rival for his father's favour.
He just couldn't shoot that puppet.
The sun was soon high in the sky, and the two met up in the village to hang out and play.
Candlewick watched as Gepetto gave Pinocchio an apple and a small hug before he let his son go out and the two of them went to the docks, looking at the fish but the boy kept thinking of how loving Gepetto really was.
"I wish he had loved me like this," He uttered as he dangled his legs over the wooden pier.
"Who?" Pinocchio asked.
"Your father... I wished mine had loved me."
And the puppet knew then, just how broken his friend truly was.
"School is starting back up tomorrow,"
"Yes," Candlewick said simply, nodding his head and the two only gazed back into the horizon, as Candlewick thought in his heart, I just don't want anyone hurting my friend.
Pinocchio's heart thud then, as if it realized it was being thought about. The puppet looked back at Candlewick and the boy's empty stare.
The puppet thought to himself then, I don't want anyone being mean to Candlewick.
The two never even knew that they had each other's backs, but school was coming up only tomorrow... time never stopping or pausing or reversing.
But just always going forward like a river till it reached the end of its journey into the sea.
Deep within Pinocchio were the very early signs of bones... soon to be fully there.
But not for many full moons.
School would come first.