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by Ayaghi
Rated: · Other · Children's · #1923956
A short story of two brothers at the time of the war. Their house was targeted.
He tried to open his eyes, but they were sore. He could feel the dust grains under his eyelids. Trying to open his eyes burned his eyes even more. The dust and the smell of burned metal were felling his nose and lungs. The air was too thick. The pain was too much to be endured. Every little part of his stiffed body was in pain. A scream was trying to escape his system, but he remembered that his younger brother was sitting next to him. Hence, he withheld it and bit his lip.
” He must be terrified ” He thought.
He moved his fingers for two inches,and felt the rough, sharp, sloppy parts of what he thought to be sand and broken glass. He eventually felt something. Two short viscous fleshy things. He reached out to the whole object. It was his brother’s tiny hand. He held it, squeezed his fingers. He thought that it would be better if he held him between his arms, so he tried to move closer, but he could not. He was stuck. He could not fell his legs. He tried to pull his brother to him. Without a lot of effort, he pulled. It was strange . He pulled something, but it was not his brother. He felt that what his hand held was a tinny hand, but his brother cannot be so weightless and small. He felt the figure end with his other hand. It was his brother’s hand, but not his brother. That scream, he tried to capture, escaped his lungs. He screamed endlessly, cursing and calling and praying with inapprehensible words. He grabbed his brother ‘s torn hand, put it on his mouth to close it.
“If I kept screaming, they will find me and will save me.” And with all what was left of his power he pressed his two hands and his brother bloody hand against his mouth closing his lips. He remembered his brother’s smile before all of this darkness and fear, right before the explosion. He remembered how happy he was. He waited
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