The voices in the background sounded distant and distorted as Nyangdeng lay motionless on the bed. She could open her eyes only by enduring a blaring pain. It didn't matter which body part she tried to move; the pain from her leg still shouted at her body to stop moving. And she did. The pain was too great for her to rebel. As her eyes blinked open, the people in the room immediately turned their attention to her.
"Are you okay?" a woman asked, tearfully.
Nyangdeng's eyes glided to the woman on her left. At first the woman's face was blurry, but as her vision adjusted, the face became familiar. It was Ashri, Adut's wife. To Nyangdeng it seemed like forever since she had last seen her. Suddenly tears began to fill her eyes as she reached out to touch the woman she considered her aunt. Immediately tears overflowed from Ashri's eyes as she grasped Nyangdeng's hand and hugged her tightly.
"Aunty Ashri," Nyangdeng said tearfully, ready to break down at any moment.
"I'm so glad you're alright," she said, hugging her more tightly.
Nyangdeng couldn't say anything else. She was too busy trying not to cry, but no matter how hard she tried, the warm feeling she felt in that moment was too comforting and nostalgic for her to hold her emotions back. She hugged her aunt back aggressively, squeezing her with all the strength she could muster, completely ignoring the pain, and sobbed on Ashri's shoulder. Nyangdeng didn't want to let go; she didn't want that moment to end. It seemed like forever since she had last experienced this feeling, the feeling of peace and love. But she knew the moment was temporary, and no matter how much she tried, she couldn't bring herself to let go. She didn't want to be trapped in this cruel reality full of chaos and people with insane motives. She wanted to go back to the past, where she was happy and didn't have to worry about danger lurking around every corner. She wanted to go back to a time when she could play with her brother and see his bright smile. She wanted to go back to a time when she could run around freely and play with strangers she had never seen before. She wanted to go back to when she was a menace to Keji and the other shop owners. She wanted to be a kid again; she wanted to embrace a reality of peace and ignorance. She just wanted to feel whole again. But after a while she calmed down and let go of Ashri.
"What happened?" Ashri asked, tears still trickling down from her eyes.
Nyangdeng told her everything, and the others listened. She told them everything from the protests all the way up to the crazy man who was responsible for her knee injury. They all listened in horror, except for one man whose tired but handsome face remained motionless throughout the entire story. Nyangdeng thought he looked really familiar but didn't know why.
"Where exactly are Atem and Thon?" Micheal asked.
She described the building's whereabouts and specific details of what it looked like to the best of her ability.
"Alright, and you have no idea where Akeer, Arop, and Eric are?"
"Girl," the unknown man said, stepping forward.
"The boy you met recently, somewhere around your age, with black hair and green eyes, who looks like a smaller version of me?"
Suddenly Nyangdeng was hit with a realization. She had wondered where she had seen that handsome yet annoyingly charismatic face before; it was from that boy. Nyangdeng nodded in response. Suddenly the man's tired face lit up.
"And you have no idea where he is? You must have some clue where they went after the rally. Think."
"Alek, stop," Ashri screamed at him.
"Don't you see that the girl is traumatized? She has already been through enough, and you want her to relive everything again. …Has it not been bad enough that you got my husband killed? Now you want to drag everyone else to go die for you. Sorry, but no. Your son is our last priority after all the shit you've put us through."
Nyangdeng's eyes went blank as she was slapped with another realization. Adut is dead.
"What did you say? You're blaming me?" Alek said, his voice growing louder with every word as he stepped toward Ashri. But Micheal stopped him. Looking down at Micheal's grasp on his arm, Alek suddenly swung his fist against the wall, cracking it. The loud tremor of his swing brought silence to the room for a couple of seconds before he gritted his teeth and turned to walk out of the room. But before he could get a foot out, Ashri said something that stopped him in his tracks.
"Give me my husband back, you selfish bastard."
Everyone's eyes were on him as he stood at the doorway, looking straight ahead, not saying a single word, before he walked off. Even with him gone, the tense air didn't immediately vanish. Everyone stood in the room for several seconds before leaving, except for Ashri and Micheal.
"Miss, do you mind if I get some time alone with my niece?"
Ashri looked at him angrily for a second, then kissed Nyangdeng on the forehead, telling her, "I'll check on you later." Another fucking deadbeat, she mumbled under her breath as she passed Micheal. He only sighed in response as he watched her leave. Now they were the only ones in the room. The tense atmosphere still lingered, but it was greatly reduced by the others' absence.
"Nyangdeng, …" He paused.
What do I even say to her? he thought, reaching out to touch her but refraining.
"Uncle, …I'm so glad…to finally get to see you," she said, sniffling.
Micheal went over to her and embraced her as if she were his only surviving relative. And at that moment, she was. He had no idea if Arop and his youngest nephew were still alive. So he made a decision: no matter what happened, he would protect this crying girl at any cost, whether at the cost of his own flesh and blood or by committing an unforgivable act. He would do it all, just so she wouldn't have to deal with what he had gone through back then. Even if he became a demon.
"Don't worry, Nyangdeng. Nobody else will hurt you. I swear."
"…Will you go searching for everybody else?"
"I will," Micheal said, in a reassuring tone.
"Look for Mom last. She's down in the underground sewers. Probably hiding somewhere, so I'm sure she's safe."
Micheal nodded, avoiding her teary eyes. He couldn't tell her. He couldn't bring himself to. He had to ignore it and carry it with him as if nothing had happened. Only then could he function. Only then could he climb higher.
"I should get going. Yell if you need anything. I'm sure that aunty of yours will come running."
"Hey, Uncle Micheal, before you go, could I ask you for some advice?"
Micheal turned around. Curiosity struck him.
"About what?"
"It may sound kind of weird, but you can't ask any questions, okay? …I don't want to talk about it."
"Alright."
"What if your peers around you are doing things you can't even imagine ever doing? Like standing up to bullies, being brave, not crying as often, having a high pain tolerance, and protecting each other without even a second thought."
"Maybe they have a reason to keep pushing forward. Maybe it's because of something they hold dear, or someone."
"That's love, right? But what if you genuinely do have love for someone, but that love doesn't magically turn you into some kind of hero? What then? Is it because my love isn't great enough, or because I'm a naturally weak person? Please tell me, Uncle, why am I so weak and pathetic while everybody around me is leaving me behind? …I feel so alone," she said, tears escaping her eyes.
Micheal looked at her pitifully. Where was this all coming from? he wanted to ask. But he decided to answer her question.
"It's not because you're weak, Nyangdeng. It's because you're only a child."
Nyangdeng's sniffling immediately stopped, and her teary eyes became dull, as if she had been hit with the last thing she possibly wanted to hear. Micheal noticed, but he wrote it off as her being sad.
"Nyangdeng, nobody expects you to be brave or to do what adults should be doing. We're adults because we're strong enough to protect the ones we love, so don't feel ashamed of being a child. And besides, being a child means you're still innocent and pure, so there's no need to go and do the dirty work that we have to do, okay, Nyangdeng? Be a kid a little longer."
She nodded in response.
"Alright then, see you tomorrow. Have a good night."
She nodded again. Micheal sighed as he left the room, but not before taking a final glance at her and locking the door. Immediately after the door was locked, she bit her lip until blood trickled down, before she began crying again.
"I'm not weak. I can be strong. If being weak means being a child, then I'd rather kill that child and get rid of the burden. …Then nobody would look down on me. He won't look down on me. I could finally catch up to them and be their equal. I must kill myself."
Meanwhile, as Micheal walked through the building, he kept replaying what Nyangdeng had asked him over and over. He knew what the context behind her question was, but whatever it was, he hoped it was nothing of concern. That question of hers reminded him of his past and how weak he had been compared to those two. But he convinced himself it was nothing serious, just a child feeling powerless and left out, he thought as he sat down on a sofa, staring up at the fan blades in a trance. He wasn't the only one. Just a few levels above him, Alek lay on the roof, staring at the stars, and so was Lual, sitting in his office across his planning table, staring at the same night sky. All of them were reminiscing about the past, all those years ago.
* * *
All Micheal could hear was the loud roar of bullets and bombs destroying the town. He could also hear the raging fire around him, slowly burning buildings to ash. Death sang its melody as it passed through the town where all his most beloved and most painful memories had taken place. But Micheal had no interest in hearing its voice. He had an objective: to find his sister and make sure she was safe. He didn't care about those adults who had abandoned him. They could all die, for all he cared. Nobody in the entire world was more important to him than his sister. He was certain that was the only reason he was even alive. So, mustering all his strength, he pushed the rebel off his body and stood up, beaten in body alone, not in spirit. As he stumbled forward, he realized there was a piece of wood wedged in his right thigh. Gritting his teeth, he pulled it out and continued forward. He couldn't run, but he could maintain a good pace. He noticed that at the top of his vision there was a red color blocking it. So he wiped his face and eyes and saw the bright red of his blood, completely smeared on his hand. Micheal didn't panic. He continued to move forward, hoping only that his body wouldn't give out until he made sure she was safe. And with that will burning brightly in his chest, he dragged his beaten body all the way to his house. Orange light danced in his eyes as he stood in front of his burning home. Micheal began to jog toward it with all of his will, trying to ignore the pain in his right thigh. Then, mustering all his strength from his chest to his throat, he screamed his sister's name. And he was answered with a scream. It came from the other side of the yard. Immediately he ran toward it. For a second he was stunned, but then he felt rage take hold of him. Right before his eyes were his parents, kneeling and begging the soldiers for their lives as they offered up the only thing of value they had: their daughter.
"Let go of her!" he said, rushing forward.
The soldiers all turned to look at him and laughed as one soldier blocked Micheal's punch and delivered his own to the gut, immediately sending Micheal to the ground. He vomited, coughed, and wheezed, but he still managed to get back up on his feet, stumbling as his vision darkened. He remembered one night long ago when he and his sister were together, and he had promised to protect her. She may have dismissed it as the delusional ramblings of a child, but he had intended to keep that promise no matter what.
"Micheal, leave. Run now, hurry," his sister said.
"Listen, please, sir, we don't know him. Take her and let us go."
"Yes, take her. And take him too."
Micheal couldn't believe the words coming out of his parents' mouths. How could they? he thought, gritting his teeth. We are your children. How could you just abandon us without a second thought? Do we mean nothing to you? Do you only see us as unwanted burdens you can discard at any moment? How could you be so cruel? Where is your humanity?
"Come here, baby," a soldier said, holding his sister by the waist as he put his hand on her breast.
She struggled to break free, and eventually the soldier began to get annoyed.
"Bitch, stop resisting," the soldier said, slapping his sister to the ground.
Micheal saw his chance. He grabbed a knife from a nearby soldier's leg, jumped up, and stabbed him in the left eye. The man screamed for his life, but his screams were not loud enough to reach Micheal's ears. The only things he could hear were his loud panting and the screams and yells of the people around him. The soldiers rushed toward him. Before any of them could reach him, he quickly lodged the knife into the soldier's neck, ensuring the kill. Right after, he felt a kick to the side of his ribs. Pain shot through his body, but it didn't stop him from quickly getting to his feet. This was his chance. If I can just evade those hands, I can reach her, was the message his brain sent to his body. As the blows rained down from above, he tried his best to dodge. Some landed on his jaw and cheek, and although they hurt, along with his stomach and ribs, he reminded himself that the pain was only temporary, and in order to survive he had to persevere. Eventually he successfully weaved through the group of soldiers. Now there was no one between him and his sister. All he had to do was grab her hand and run away with her; he would even carry her if he had to. But of course, things weren't that easy. Suddenly Micheal felt himself falling forward, but luckily he managed to catch himself. Confused, he looked down and saw a hand on his ankle.
"What the—" he said in disbelief.
The hand's owner was his own mother, clutching tightly. For a split second their eyes met. And her gaze shook him. His mother didn't look up at him with the eyes of a mother. She looked up at him with the eyes of a beast, dark yet transparent, revealing a mixture of anger, disgust, and the ugly element of loathing, all combined to form the terrifying color of black. But he didn't get the chance to dwell on his mother's betrayal, because he was swiftly hit again on his left cheek. Micheal crashed to the ground. He immediately tried to get back up but was met with a backhand to his cheek. He tried to kick and throw a couple of punches, but they were all ineffective against the man he had considered a god all his life: his very own father. Micheal's eyes teared up as he tried desperately to fight off his father, but with each punch of resistance he grew weaker. Eventually it wasn't just his father; the soldiers joined in on the fun too, beating him relentlessly. At that point Micheal was completely submerged in the vast ocean of his mind. Sounds were distorted and muffled, his vision blurred and eventually faded into darkness. In his left ear he could hear his sister's screams for them to stop. He could also hear her cries. And he could hear their betrayer screaming at her to be quiet. Though his vision was completely embraced and engulfed by black, he could still see the scenes captured by the most valuable thing he had: his mind. And with that mind he swore never to forget that moment, that pain, that betrayal. He would remember it all. He swore to himself that he would armor himself in his pain, and with that pain he would reveal the version of himself that had been embraced by black.