“Please honey, hide in the closet,” says my mom, tears streaming down her face. She hugs me tightly, and I silently notice how bad her body is shaking. She gasps with every gunshot and scream. The dark sky flashes red as another house erupts in flames.
“Mom, mommy, its okay, I’ll protect you,” I say as I look up at her, fear in my eyes. I try to sound strong for her, and walk as bravely as a six year old can into the closet. “See, mom? I’m going to be okay.” I look at her and give her a big grin.
“Oh Al, Alark honey, I love you so much, don’t forget that okay? Grow up to be strong and healthy, find a good wife and have nice kids.” She looks at me once again and smiles sadly.
I can taste the salt of the tears running down my face as I cry. “What are you saying mom,” I ask in a trembling voice, “you’re going to come back right?”
I look over her shoulder and see the faint outline of twelve men in the smoke. She looks back and curses silently, venom dripping from her voice. One of the men starts walking in our direction and all the others follow him slowly. Mom makes a strange drawing in the air, flicking her wrist as a trail of blue light emanates from her finger tips. Making a small symbol in the air, she says softly, “That’ll buy us some time.”
She looks at me again, smiling sadly, and shuts the closet door with me inside it. I cry and cry, no longer even trying to hide it. “Mom? Mom! Mommy, please come back! Mommy!” It seems that’s all I can say now as my small fists beat against the wood. The steady bumps matching my heartbeat as I cry throughout the night. That’s the last time I ever saw my mother alive.
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