Big Dog [ONC 2022]

8

"Open hostilities have broken out across several nations across Europe, Asia, Africa and South America where negotiations between belligerent nations appeared to break down within a matter of hours of each other.

On a scale not seen since the height of the Second World War, opposing armies have engaged in terrifying battles that have already claimed the lives of thousands. The United Kingdom, and the Prime Minister, have declared they will fully support any and all allies that are under attack."

-+-

8

Runa cancelled the morning lessons, sending both children to their rooms, saying little else to either of them. Stigr complained, of course, that she had promised he could play his game. It was as though he simply could not understand that he had done something wrong. He felt no guilt. No sorrow. As far as he appeared concerned, Runa chastised him for nothing.

She had no idea how she could explain it in a more simple, easy to understand way. A way that even Stigr could understand, even if he didn't think he was wrong, but she had explained it simply enough. Stigr simply did not see it, nor agree with it. The anger Runa had stuffed down resurfaced at his reticence to accept his error. He had disobeyed her and didn't care.

Had she done the same to her father, she would have suffered far more than have gaming privileges taken away. She moved an inadvertent hand to her backside that had seen heavy slaps from her father, more than once. Not with any malice. Never to the point of abuse (though she knew many would see it as abuse now, regardless of the amount of force used). A simple punishment, performed and then forgotten.

She could never do that to her children. Though getting them to understand what they had done wrong, sometimes, proved more difficult than teaching them complicated mathematics. Hertha had grown to a point where she could, or should, understand. Yet, even she looked at Runa as though it was she that didn't understand. Runa had watched them both slope up the stairs, eyes dropped to the floor.

That left Runa alone. She tried to occupy herself while listening to ensure the children did not whisper to each other across the hallway above. She washed and dried the plates and cutlery, wiped down the kitchen surfaces and then ran a mop over the stone-clad flooring. That didn't help. It didn't stop the whirl that had invaded her mind. Didn't stop the rush of thoughts and questions.

She tried sitting down to relax in front of the television, but most of the programming had switched to constant newsfeeds, detailing the chaos of the weather or the drums of war, or the other disasters that had seemed to hit the world all at the same time over the past few days. It felt as though life on Earth, and the Earth itself, were tearing themselves apart. It felt like the apocalyptic scenarios predicted in many religious texts. The end of days.

Despite everything happening beyond the shores of the island, she found herself caring about, and thinking about, only the things that mattered to her, here and now. She found herself thinking of those words from Hertha, impossibly echoing the words from her nightmare. Words that played through her mind even now.