Sunday, August 4, 2019
Samuel :: Short Stories War Violence Essays
Samuel He looked into her eyes and proceeded to tell her how beautiful she was to him. He had to her many times before, and every time she would smile and look away. Sometimes he wasnââ¬â¢t really sure how things came to be. No-matter how bad things had become, he always found strength in her. Now there was a baby on the way, his whole life was turning around. The child was born in a place where war and hardship had become a commonality. He was given the name Samuel by his mother. Before Samuel was even born, his father was killed while fighting on the outskirts of town, and in his motherââ¬â¢s heart there was left a hole that was kept from consuming her only by the hope and anticipation of her son that would soon be born. Still, she could not imagine bringing a boy up in such a war ravaged place, and without a father. However, she loved her son enough to keep them both alive, and for twelve years they held strong against the harsh cold, bullets, and starvation. Like Samuelââ¬â¢s father, death and war would soon claim Samuelââ¬Ës mother. The inevitable occurred when Samuelââ¬â¢s mother was hit by gunfire in the market place. Now he was alone. His mother, the only person who loved him, had gone. He ran to her that day and held her head and prayed for her life. She was gone before she even touched the ground. Still the boy held her. He felt sick and cold on the icy asphalt but he could not move. However, he did not cry. Maybe he could not cry. He was strong, and naturally he would stay strong through the tough times, but this was different. He felt something he had never felt before. He quickly learned the ways of war and learned to fight. He could no longer find forgiveness or wholeness in his heart. For the next part of his life he was driven only by his vengeance and passion for his dead mother. Nothing anyone could say or do could mend his broken heart. He was too consumed by the void in his life that the kind words of friends and cousins had become little more than echoes in an endless gray space.
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