The sky became gray as heaven shed its tears. Muffled voices echoed inside my mind as the sun gracefully bowed and disappeared, shoved out of view by the greedy night. I stood where the sun had gone hoping it might come back, ridding me of the miserable gloom. It had been a long time since I had felt warmth from the bright sun. Slowly, I turned my back to the darkness and walked back to my tent. While I was walking, a bright yellow head glowed in the darkness. He was sitting on the foul ground with his bright head facing the floor. I thought he was dead, then suddenly he lifted his head and eyed me. His pale eyes looked as though they were hiding something. Then I realized he was the son of the corpse I saw being carried out to the furnace. There was a remarkable similarity between the two. He looked at me with a hint of sadness in his eyes. I didn't remember feeling sad after my father had died a month ago. If I learned anything at this camp it was that the strong live and the weak die. My father was one of the weak ones. I looked at the boy once more to see he was still looking at me. Suddenly a whirlpool of emotions spun in my mind. A connection was made between us, without words. I understood what he was feeling. I realized that I had seen my father, once a burly proud man, turn to a state of total weakness and decay in front of my eyes. I had done nothing to help or encourage him to fight. He died alone, a lonely old man, in a place of despair without anyone to say goodbye to. I remembered how my father and I used to stay up all night telling each other stories by the faint glow of a candle. My body warmed from the memory of us talking together by a campfire. Then my body became cold from the time we went swimming in the cool lake by our house. I knew why the boy was mournful. All of the sudden I felt the sting of salty tears flowing down my face. I was crying. I realized that I would never see my father again. That's what made me cry. As the visions slowly faded away, I looked once more at the boy. I couldn't tell if he was crying because it was raining to hard, but I knew he was.
understanding by InDia
Fiction » General Rated: T, English, Drama, Words: 427, Published: 10/9/2000