It's raining. I hear the sound of a thunder.
No. There wasn't a thunder.
The ground shook, but it was not an earthquake.
Was another air pump. It's amazing the fact that they do not give truce even with rain.
My family and I were in a shelter along with two other families, because all we had was buried in the rubble of the war that was going on for over two months. No one knew the exact origin of this, but we knew was that everyone was immersed in that bloody war. Some powers were defeated and only the strongest were surviving the war and the UK, which is where we are, was one of them.
The shelter was small but we were also not many. There was only one woman who lost her husband and son in the war, a new soldier, was captured. The other family consisted of a couple of brothers, and the ten year old girl was the oldest boy and took care of seven years. Both lost their parents during a raid. And in my family there were only my mother and me. I have an older brother who was drafted into the British Armed Forces for about a month. Received his regular news and it makes my mother, who suffers from heart disease, in peace. However, what is occupying her mind currently is the fact that my 18th birthday will be here two days and I'll soon be able to enter the battlefield.
The daily newspaper arrived, bringing the list of soldiers who met their death. My mother did not look the rest of the news, went directly to the area of the deaths. I saw that she spent her eyes and sighed with relief after each name. Johnatan was still alive despite not receive any more letters from him in a while.
She finally finished reading the deaths, but her eyes went to the other end of the page and her hands began to tremble. I went close to her to know what was happening, but did not need to ask and not read too much into what caused despair at my mother.
The young soldier Johnatan Evans, age 20, was killed this morning while patrolling the area with two companions. These two say they were cornered by eight enemy soldiers who captured him and took him to the ruins of an old building.
The boy was found decapitated and various wounds caused by handguns exclusive use of enemy powers, but which failed to be identified. There are reports that may be terrorist attacks, but the skill states that it was an attempt to torture to obtain information. The body will be sent back to his hometown today.
That meant I would have to take the place of my brother in two days. My mother started crying and I kept beside her, holding her hand, which was shaking. Also mourned his death because it was not to be decapitated destination for anyone.
The whole house was silent, until we hear the stirring of official cars around. Selena, a ten year old girl, went back inside. It was one of the representatives of the armed forces who came to offer us a cold and mechanical comfort, with no little human feeling in it and to take us to the cemetery where the funeral was taking place my brother.
The coffin was sealed because the scene was too strong for anyone to see. My mother was disconsolate at the edge of the pit, and even my support was not enough. People sent their condolences, but we both knew it was a mere obligation. They were slowly leave until there were only my mother and me.
- Are you Luka Evans?
- Yes
- Let's go now to the capital. You will stay in place of your brother.
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