I still remember that day when our group was ambushed. I was lucky to have saved Grandfather Ceniza, who was caught off guard while relieving himself. We managed to hide, but the chaos separated us from the others. For three days, I had been searching for any familiar face, and then I finally saw her - my sister, Kira. She was with a few other survivors, but her eyes told me that something was wrong.
As we reunited, I could see the sadness in her eyes. She had lost the others - Gaspard, Eron, Sam, and Laline. The only ones she had found were me and Maegan. I wanted to cheer her up, to make her forget her sorrows, even if just for a moment. That's when I remembered the watch bracelet I had found earlier. I had learned some crafting skills from Eron, and I decided to use them to make a small, moving ballerina, just like the ones in sound boxes.
As I worked on the ballerina, memories flooded my mind. I remembered how Kira used to work so hard to support our family, her hands often bruised and bloody from carrying heavy loads. I remembered how I used to steal, driven by some inexplicable urge in my head. But it was Kira who had changed me. I recalled the day I saw her crying in her room, her dreams of attending college shattered because we couldn't afford it. That was my turning point. I started to fight my kleptomania, determined to make it up to her.
I wanted to create something special for Kira, something that would bring a smile to her face. I poured my heart into making that ballerina, carefully crafting every detail.
Meanwhile, Kira had wandered off, lost in thought. She sat down amidst the ruins, took out a piece of paper, and began to write. "I've finished the poem," she said to herself, "but you can't hear it anymore if you're dead." She then realized that the watch Eron had given her was missing. She frantically searched her pockets and the surrounding area, her hands growing red and sore as she rummaged through the rubble. But it was nowhere to be found.
When she returned to me, her eyes were blazing with anger. "Keith, did you take my watch?" she demanded. I hesitated, knowing that I had indeed taken it, but I didn't have the chance to explain why. She slapped me, her voice trembling with rage. "Why are you like this, Keith? That was the only thing that kept me sane!"
I felt a stinging sensation in my eyes as tears welled up. I knew I had hurt her, and I couldn't blame her for being angry. I continued working on the ballerina, my hands shaking as I poured my guilt and regret into the craft.
Just as I was finishing the ballerina, a loud explosion rocked the ground beneath us. The building we were in began to collapse, and I was trapped inside. I was surrounded by rubble, my body battered and bruised.
The dust was everywhere, choking me. It tasted like ash and fear. My legs... I couldn't feel them right. Just a heavy, throbbing ache that spread up into my tummy. It felt like they weren't even mine anymore.
I tried to wiggle my fingers, and that worked, at least a little. Good. I could still feel something. I squeezed them into a fist, trying to remember how to make the ballerina's tiny, delicate hands. But the picture kept blurring.
Everything was so heavy. A weight pressed down on my chest, making it hard to breathe. Each breath was a tiny, sharp pain, like swallowing needles. And cold. I was so, so cold. Even though the air was thick and hot with dust, a shiver ran through me that wouldn't stop.
I wanted my mom. I wanted her to smooth my hair and tell me everything was going to be okay. I wanted to show Kira the ballerina. It was almost finished. Just needed the tiny sparkles on her dress.
Why was it getting so dark? It was daytime, wasn't it? I blinked, trying to clear the blurry shadows dancing in front of my eyes. I didn't want to close them. If I closed them, would I wake up?
Please, I didn't want to go to sleep. I hadn't finished the ballerina yet. And...and I still wanted to apologize to them. Please.
Kira searched for me outside, calling out my name, but I was nowhere to be found. She stumbled upon the ruins of the building and began to dig, her hands raw and bleeding as she searched for me. And then, she found me, my body lifeless, the ballerina still clutched in my hand… but now covered in gravel.
As she held me, tears streaming down her face, she heard the sound of a walkie-talkie crackling to life. A voice announced that the enemy had launched a surprise attack, and the war was spreading to our area. The safe zone was being evacuated, and those who could, had to leave immediately.
Kira held me close, her heart heavy with grief. She knew she had to keep moving, to survive, but a part of her had died with me. She slowly got up, and began to walk, her eyes fixed on the horizon, her heart numb with pain.
As she walked, the sounds of war grew louder - the rumble of guns, the screams of the wounded, and the wail of sirens in the distance. Kira kept moving, her legs carrying her forward, even as her heart remained with me, lost in the ruins of that building.
She walked for what felt like hours, the world around her a blur, until she finally saw a glimmer of hope - a convoy of vehicles, heading towards the safe zone. She quickened her pace, her eyes fixed on the trucks, her heart beating with a newfound determination to survive.
As she reached the convoy, she was pulled aboard, and the vehicle began to move. Kira looked back, her eyes searching for the ruins of the building where I had died, but it was just a cloud of dust and smoke on the horizon. She closed her eyes, the ballerina still clutched in my lifeless hand, and let the tears flow.
The war raged on, but Kira had found a new reason to keep going - to honor my memory, to survive, and to hold on to the love we had shared, no matter what the future held.