Short Story – The Motherland
Photo credit: lisasolonynko from morguefile.com
It was 6 years from this day. It was a dark saturday morning, I woke up earlier than usual; I had just gotten out of my bed and was slowly heading down to the lower floor. I was sitting on my old, stained couch watching our rotten television, it only had 4 working channels. All of a sudden, I hear cries! Cries of desperation, I think they were coming through the thin walls from the room next to mine. In that room, we had the TV from our motherland, there was a sticker on the side of a hammer and sickle.
Usually, my family would have a meeting in their and watch news of the homeland, taking notice of the destruction they left behind. The screams filled me with curiosity, so I came over and saw bright lights on the TV. The motherland was attacked; blood, pain and family ghosts angry at my family for leaving them behind to be bombed. I turned to see the tears running down my mother and grandmother’s faces, they frantically grabbed phones and called who remained in the motherland, hoping for even the slightest sign of love remaining in the already torn family.
My father, a member of the mafia, had sorrowfully informed me of what happened. Fudic, a small village in Eastern Europe that was previously home to peace and compassion for one’s neighbor, is now nothing; it was destroyed as if a heartless man was only wishing for all the world to be gone and burnt. My family and I remained full of terror, but happy for our own well being because we left the war-torn motherland.
Eventually, a sense of peace and calmness melted over us. Curiosity stayed in the back of our heads for the following week; we then learned the truth. It was Noc Rojdu, the leader of the nation, the one we loved and worshipped as common man that can keep us level in the world. He was testing missiles for the military, he wanted to expand and declare supremacy over the world. His decision for testing was to drop them on his own people; his own children. He is still leader; through corruption and fear of his children. I learned that day, sometimes the people you love and admire are just as fu*ked up as the rest of us.
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