By Jessi L. Roberts
Bombs fell.
Comtrak dove for cover, barely in time. Tiran disintegrated into pink mist. The blood sprayed on Comtrak’s fur. As he crawled toward where his brother had stood, his ears rang with the sound of the blasts and gunfire. Another mortar exploded next to him.
He sat up, all sleep evaporating as thunder boomed outside. Just a storm, not bombs, just a dream, he tried to tell himself, but the nightmare had been real. He couldn’t pretend his brother hadn’t died. The war’s over now. But for some, it was never really over. The scars still remained, and his ears still rang.
Lightning cracked above their shallow den. Comtrak flinched at the sound, the noise too similar to the roar of explosives. He tried to control his shaking.
Little paws padded toward him. He squinted in the darkness. Since the war, he’d gone nearly as deaf as a Human. Another unseen scar of the war.
“Daddy, I’m scared,” Chena said.
Comtrack opened a lightbox, flooding the room with a soft glow. His daughter stood in front of him, her wide eyes reflecting the light. Tears dampened her golden fur. Her gaze carried the same haunted look he’d seen on his fellow soldiers, the same look he’d seen in the mirror.
He spread his arms. She dove into them, her little body shaking worse than his. “It’s just thunder,” he said as both of them flinched at the sound of another blast.
“It sounds like bombs,” she sobbed.
He clutched her closer, letting his fur wipe away her tears. An eight-year-old should never have to be afraid of thunder because it sounded like bombs. She shouldn’t even know what battle sounded like, but she’d seen war, seen the same things he had. She bore the invisible wounds he bore, scars no child should’ve had.
The enemy had done this. The enemy thought they knew war, knew what it was like to lose a soldier, but had they ever come home to find their horror reflected in the eyes of their children? Had they ever comforted children whose first thoughts at hearing thunder were of explosions? No, they had never dealt with that. They thought war was about soldiers going away, then coming back, sometimes in a body bag. They didn’t know a thing about war. They didn’t know it was about a soldier coming home to find his own terrors reflected in the eyes of his only surviving child.
Can you guess which song from the 1980's inspired this story? Share in the comments!
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Chilling, well told!
All I can think of are 1970’s songs, War, Eve of Destruction, Fortunate Son, and more.
You’re close since those songs are a similar genre, but this song isn’t one of them. (This one feels so much like a 70’s song I accidentally submitted it to the 70’s theme.)
Those songs are a similar theme to the one you’re looking for, so you’re close, but this one’s an 80’s song.
Good guess but try again!
This shattered my heart. I love it.
Thank you! Part of the way I came up with the idea was by listening to American songs about wars. So many dealt with soldiers coming home changed, but in this story universe, the war was at home, so it wasn’t just the soldiers who were changed by war.
Wow. So intense and sad 😢
Interesting way to explore the effects without discussing the cause
Thanks!
This story’s actually set in a world I’ve already made up, so this would be happening shortly after a war that’s mentioned in passing during the book I have published.
Well now I want to know why this little girl understood was, too. So sad! I’m bad at guessing songs 😂
MB> keturahskorner.blogspot.com
PB> thegirlwhodoesntexist.com
Thanks!
It’s one of the sadder ones I’ve done, but when one is dealing with war, it will be sad.
I’m going to toss one out there that popped into my head for some reason:
99 Luftballoons by Nena
Good guess but try again!
Great story, but I have know idea what song it is.
Is this about the Turpa war you mentioned in your novel?
Chilling story. Is the song Sunday Bloody Sunday by U2?
Good guess but please try again!