Broken

Alone with Death

I look up at the sky. I am alone once again. I have no one. Tears crawl across my cheeks. Evan, Clayton, and all the Nomads have left without me. A child, my child, is all I have left. A boy. I cradle him in my arms. I look at his haunting features. A hungry infant.

I stroke his sunken cheeks with bony hands. Skin ripped away from the battles I have had to endure. A name pops in my head. A child that will meet its final destination, prematurely, should not have a name. Who will cradle the nameless and sickly child? I will until Death comes and takes the child away from misery, pain, and horror.

He will fade away. Leaving nothing and maybe going nowhere. There is no after the end. Tear fall ­onto the infants face. My tears. The ones that have rolled of my own. The infant giggles. I look at it curiously. Why are you giggling young one? Death will come to reap you. There is nothing left in this world for you. He continues to giggle and enjoying a short lived life.

The cold tears upon his ghostly face, his mouth open in a giggle, a smile spreading across my face, and my arms holding him. The giggles stop. I look at him. A fog fill his eyes. Death has come for the infant. A waterfall is formed. My surroundings fade into a softer paint. I look around and see a rock. I lay the child there as I dig a shallow hole for his final resting place.

I lay him down carefully and kiss his forehead. The tears stop flowing. I must stay strong until Death comes for me. A sleepiness fills my body. I lay next to the fresh dirt. I close my eyes. I feel something begin to cradle me. Death is that you? Have you come to take me out of my misery? Have you come for me after you have taken my son? The silence answers me.

I begin to go into a deeper and deeper sleep. A few hours later I wake to a different scene. Evan is next to me, Clayton is watching over his pack, and the warriors for that shift are guarding for the wolves. I lay my hand on my stomach. I will not allow you to die.

Evan stirs awake and looks at me questioningly. I look at him in the eyes and whisper, "Do not let him die. Do not let Everton die."

He looks puzzled, but I fall asleep quickly avoiding his questions.