The War We Know Nothing About

One

"My muse is a liar
Did you know, did you know?
He told me of the sky
How it flows, it flows"

They say there's a war that's been going on for over a century now. but I've never seen it, never heard it, it's never really talked about either- except on the TV.

"My muse is a liar
Did you know, did you know?
He told me of the stars
How they glow, they glow"

It's rather strange really, because if you ask anyone about it... they can't tell you a single thing about this war.

"But all that the sky holds
Is a void, a void
Nothing but emptiness no, no no"

People will also give you strange looks if you ask about it, and your parents will tell you to stop asking about it. The keepers will also look at you funny.

"He told me all his lies,
His lies of the sky
An illusion to blind our minds, our minds"

I heard the keepers get to go up to the surface... which is why I want to be one someday.

"Keeping us far
Keeping us far
Keeping us far from the truth—"

"You shouldn't be singing that song, boy." A man with a raspy voice spoke with a stern tone.

His face was old and wrinkled, but also tough. A hardened, stone-cold expression such as his could only be obtained by being around so long. I heard that the older you are the more you see, and the more wisdom you obtain, hard to imagine when you've been living in a big metal box your entire life.

"Oh? Why not?" I asked, my voice quiet (To be honest, he startled me slightly).

My voice has always been quiet, sometimes too quiet to be heard. My parents always said that I'm their most soft-spoken son, and that I'm not interested in what I should be.

"Do you know where that song originated from?" The old man asked.
His eyes were a light blue, almost white. And his hair, slightly longer then it should be for a man his age, with a slight shine mixed with the greys and whites.

I thought about it for a long moment, but no answers came to my mind, I was only 13 at the time. I was merely a baby who didn't understand much of this world yet.

I shook my head negatively.

The room we were sitting in was grey and bland, much like all the other rooms that were grey and bland, after all we lived underground in a bunker. We've lived like this for years, ever since the war. The war we know nothing about. The old man sat down on a bench, leaning forward slightly to seem less intimidating to me. I was rather short for my age, standing at a grand height of 5'2. Yep, that's me, Finlay Amery, the shortest and strangest 13 year old boy in all of this underground paradise we mistook for a home.

"That song was written by a keeper long ago." The man started, "that keeper had been to the surface many times, no one really knows what compelled them to write that song, but many say it was based on true experiences."

As he spoke I found myself leaning closer, wanting to know more. I always did have a desire for knowledge.

"And they were right..." he said, his eyes looked rather distant for a moment, staring off somewhere behind me.
I heard footsteps though I didn't dare look back, I was far too intrigued by the man's story.
"Do you know who the 'Muse' is referring to in the song?" He asked me.

"I don't believe I do...?" I muttered, trying to think.

He leaned closer to me, and spoke in a raspy whisper,
"The world, this world, the one we live in, the only one we've known for years."