The Last Tear
by Stella C.
I’ve always loved my family. Dead. I loved my house. Destroyed. I loved my friends. Gone. My dad told me I would die with them. I let it happen but it didn’t, They died, I lived. I regret not being in heaven. Sticking with my family. Love in the clouds. I know they know I still love them and am thinking of them constantly. The warm tea slipping down my throat. My mum by my side. The thought brings tears to my eyes. I fight them. Biting my lip, blinking them away. The war of sorrow. I haven’t cried since they died. I won’t cry. I won’t.
I jump off the abandoned building. My ankles hit hard to the ground. I stumble backwards. I feel pain but run anyway. The pain tingling in my body. Legs numb. My heart pounding, breathing hard. I step on a sharp rock. I flinch. Blood pouring from my foot. Drowning my shoe with dark red. Holding back I screech, yelling in pain. I stop. It won’t make a difference. My dress drenched with mud. shoes thin, ripped and bloody. I see them behind me. They are after me. My foot is slowing me down. My face looks worried and hopeless. I dive into a bush camouflaging me, hoping they won’t spot me. I duck.
Ones of them shouts, “She’s right there. Grab her before she runs!” Peter grabs my arm.
Peter says, “You’re punishing yourself for not dying. That’s ridiculous! Stop running and I’ll get you a plaster.”
Thomas whispers, “You know mum and dad wanted us to live, don’t cry because of it! We are heading to the ruins of our home now maybe we can find Mr. Fluffers!” I sighed.
“I would rather die with them than be alive now!” I stated sternly. “Just leave me alone!” Peter threw something at me. It gently hit my back. It fell to the ground and bounced in their direction. It was an old piece of paper. Stained and frail. I hesitantly reached for it. Looking at them, confused I slowly opened it up.
It said,
Our little baby, We love you dearly,
We will always remember you.
Don’t be sad for us. Just be cooperative with Peter and Tommy.
Sincerely,
Thomas and Suzanne Wilson
My Parents? They wouldn’t know who Peter is! I read it over one more time and see that it is Peter’s handwriting. My smile dies. I rip it in three pieces and say, “Stop lying to me this is rubbish!” I run but Thomas pulls the collar of my dress. He launches me into the wagon. The world shakes and my blood loss causes me to drift to sleep. Darkness drowning my sight.
I wake with a bandage on my foot laying in my dusty bed. Peter blocking my view. He’s a fit bloke. Very handsome. I love looking into his eyes. His bright blue iris’ hypnotizing me. It reminds me of my family playing in the pond. Splashing water all around. Gentle breezes touch my long brown hair. Everyone grinning ear to ear, even Thomas. He hasn’t smiled since then. I know he is very devastated from our parents’ death, and our sister’s She was only 2 years. He always cared for her when my parents were gone.
I pretend to sleep and I see Peter walk over to the chair by the door. He drops on it, hard. Mesmerized. Peter breathes in and sighs out loudly.
Peter asks suddenly, “How did your parents die? And your sister?” I look at him, staring at the wall waiting. The least I could do is respond.
I say, “We left them. Gun to my head. Thomas dives in and saves me. Gun to their heads. The German soldiers threatening me. We could’ve saved them but we ran.” Many tears rolled down my face. My words getting more and more unclear. “They were shedding tears of joy and fear. I hear the gunshot. I hear the cry of my sweet, sweet baby sister. I look back slowing down. The German soldier running after us. Thomas pulls my arm. They saved us. It’s our faul-” I swallow and cry. I can’t hold it in anymore. I burst into tears. My ugly cry louder than ever. The light shines through the windows of my room. I get up and limp to the living room, Sniffling up the last of my tears. The last tear drops. The drop hits the blood stains on the carpet of my home. Three body bags laying there. My hand inches away from the bags when I hear a swift meow. Mr. Fluffers. He comes up to me sniffing my hand. I pick him up and he whines. His paw cut up from a piece of glass.
We return to the abandoned building where we rest. I shout in disgust, “That is beastly. Please bandage up Mr.Fluffers!”
Peter exclaims, “You’re hungry aren’t ya’? I’ll grab us some grub.”
“Thanks mate.” I say in delight. I was starved. My stomach groaning every minute making Mr. Fluffers jump in fright. That makes me and Thomas giggle a bit. I see a tear shed from Thomas’s delicate face. I’m older than him. I must protect him from sorrow. But not all. He won’t always listen to me. I never listen to him. It must be because we are twins and both want to be the older, more responsible sibling. Peter usually does all the heavy lifting. He is my second hand. I’m more like the extra in the play. Him being the star. Or like the sun. Me being the smaller stars surrounding it. He is older though. Three years older. At first he wasn’t my cup of tea but now, I’ve fallen in love with him. Everything I love dies. My family. My baby sister. Now I’m scared it could be what I have left. My twin or true love. He’s like my second brother who cares about me. But why would a guy like him like a girl like me? He only thinks of me as his chum, his mate - not soulmate.
I walk over to Thomas. I say, “What’s wrong Tommy?” I stroke his hair. He faces the other direction. I confess, “Okay fine. Now it’s your turn to be ignorant and difficult.” He points his finger signaling me to go away. I exclaim, “Okay don’t get shirty with me. Tell me why you’re sad. You know I’m trying to help you but it’s hard to care when you act like this Tom.” Thomas turns and is about to say something when he just sighs and cries. He puts his head on my lap and soaks my dress with tears. Peter walks in with grub when I signal him to leave even though I wanted the food so very badly.
I eventually fall asleep with Thomas laying on top of me. I wake in the middle of the night and Thomas is snoring on me. I move over a little away from him after seeing him drool. I fell back asleep.
When I wake my dress is dry. Thomas is gone.
I jump off the abandoned building. My ankles hit hard to the ground. I stumble backwards. I feel pain but run anyway. The pain tingling in my body. Legs numb. My heart pounding, breathing hard. I step on a sharp rock. I flinch. Blood pouring from my foot. Drowning my shoe with dark red. Holding back I screech, yelling in pain. I stop. It won’t make a difference. My dress drenched with mud. shoes thin, ripped and bloody. I see them behind me. They are after me. My foot is slowing me down. My face looks worried and hopeless. I dive into a bush camouflaging me, hoping they won’t spot me. I duck.
Ones of them shouts, “She’s right there. Grab her before she runs!” Peter grabs my arm.
Peter says, “You’re punishing yourself for not dying. That’s ridiculous! Stop running and I’ll get you a plaster.”
Thomas whispers, “You know mum and dad wanted us to live, don’t cry because of it! We are heading to the ruins of our home now maybe we can find Mr. Fluffers!” I sighed.
“I would rather die with them than be alive now!” I stated sternly. “Just leave me alone!” Peter threw something at me. It gently hit my back. It fell to the ground and bounced in their direction. It was an old piece of paper. Stained and frail. I hesitantly reached for it. Looking at them, confused I slowly opened it up.
It said,
Our little baby, We love you dearly,
We will always remember you.
Don’t be sad for us. Just be cooperative with Peter and Tommy.
Sincerely,
Thomas and Suzanne Wilson
My Parents? They wouldn’t know who Peter is! I read it over one more time and see that it is Peter’s handwriting. My smile dies. I rip it in three pieces and say, “Stop lying to me this is rubbish!” I run but Thomas pulls the collar of my dress. He launches me into the wagon. The world shakes and my blood loss causes me to drift to sleep. Darkness drowning my sight.
I wake with a bandage on my foot laying in my dusty bed. Peter blocking my view. He’s a fit bloke. Very handsome. I love looking into his eyes. His bright blue iris’ hypnotizing me. It reminds me of my family playing in the pond. Splashing water all around. Gentle breezes touch my long brown hair. Everyone grinning ear to ear, even Thomas. He hasn’t smiled since then. I know he is very devastated from our parents’ death, and our sister’s She was only 2 years. He always cared for her when my parents were gone.
I pretend to sleep and I see Peter walk over to the chair by the door. He drops on it, hard. Mesmerized. Peter breathes in and sighs out loudly.
Peter asks suddenly, “How did your parents die? And your sister?” I look at him, staring at the wall waiting. The least I could do is respond.
I say, “We left them. Gun to my head. Thomas dives in and saves me. Gun to their heads. The German soldiers threatening me. We could’ve saved them but we ran.” Many tears rolled down my face. My words getting more and more unclear. “They were shedding tears of joy and fear. I hear the gunshot. I hear the cry of my sweet, sweet baby sister. I look back slowing down. The German soldier running after us. Thomas pulls my arm. They saved us. It’s our faul-” I swallow and cry. I can’t hold it in anymore. I burst into tears. My ugly cry louder than ever. The light shines through the windows of my room. I get up and limp to the living room, Sniffling up the last of my tears. The last tear drops. The drop hits the blood stains on the carpet of my home. Three body bags laying there. My hand inches away from the bags when I hear a swift meow. Mr. Fluffers. He comes up to me sniffing my hand. I pick him up and he whines. His paw cut up from a piece of glass.
We return to the abandoned building where we rest. I shout in disgust, “That is beastly. Please bandage up Mr.Fluffers!”
Peter exclaims, “You’re hungry aren’t ya’? I’ll grab us some grub.”
“Thanks mate.” I say in delight. I was starved. My stomach groaning every minute making Mr. Fluffers jump in fright. That makes me and Thomas giggle a bit. I see a tear shed from Thomas’s delicate face. I’m older than him. I must protect him from sorrow. But not all. He won’t always listen to me. I never listen to him. It must be because we are twins and both want to be the older, more responsible sibling. Peter usually does all the heavy lifting. He is my second hand. I’m more like the extra in the play. Him being the star. Or like the sun. Me being the smaller stars surrounding it. He is older though. Three years older. At first he wasn’t my cup of tea but now, I’ve fallen in love with him. Everything I love dies. My family. My baby sister. Now I’m scared it could be what I have left. My twin or true love. He’s like my second brother who cares about me. But why would a guy like him like a girl like me? He only thinks of me as his chum, his mate - not soulmate.
I walk over to Thomas. I say, “What’s wrong Tommy?” I stroke his hair. He faces the other direction. I confess, “Okay fine. Now it’s your turn to be ignorant and difficult.” He points his finger signaling me to go away. I exclaim, “Okay don’t get shirty with me. Tell me why you’re sad. You know I’m trying to help you but it’s hard to care when you act like this Tom.” Thomas turns and is about to say something when he just sighs and cries. He puts his head on my lap and soaks my dress with tears. Peter walks in with grub when I signal him to leave even though I wanted the food so very badly.
I eventually fall asleep with Thomas laying on top of me. I wake in the middle of the night and Thomas is snoring on me. I move over a little away from him after seeing him drool. I fell back asleep.
When I wake my dress is dry. Thomas is gone.