In the Eyes of a Child

It is late at night, and I can hear men shouting... I wish they would stop but it seems to go on and on. The men are yelling at my father, they want to come and use our house. My father said no, because he is responsible for the protection of all of the children. The men got angry, but they went away, and quiet returned. My father is a strong man and he keeps us safe. All of the grownups seem nervous.

I don't understand.

During the day, our house is very hot, so we spend our time outside. Papa says to stay close to the house, and we younger children are always under the eyes of my father, or, when he is meeting with the green men, by one of our uncles, or the men papa hires to guard our house. I don't like the green men, because they wear strange clothes, and speak in a strange way.

I don't understand.

At night, the shouting returns... this goes on almost every night, and every day for a week, men shouting and threatening my father in the dark of the night, and the green men asking my father questions in the hot light of day.

I don't understand.

One day, the green men take my father away... there is much shouting in the village, because the people don't want my father to leave... my father is the local Mayor. Why are they taking him?

I don't understand.

When the men come that night, they forced my uncle to let them into our house, and the other houses in the village. The next day the men in our houses fought the green men. There were explosions, men screaming, and lots of noise and dust. I hid under a table. When it was over, I went and looked for my mother... she was dead. We screamed and cried... later the green men brought my father home.

I'm afraid... and I don't understand.

That night, the men came back to our house... but they didn't shout. They killed my father's men and one of my father's brothers. Then, they killed my father... all while I watched.

After the funerals, I asked my uncles why my parents were dead. My eldest Uncle, our new Mayor (in my village we call him "Sheik" instead of Mayor) answered me by shrugging his shoulders and saying: "This is war, my sweet" I asked him who we were fighting, and he thought about it for a moment, then looked at me and said: "Everyone".

I'm an orphan because of "war"... So are all of the other children in our house.

I don't don't understand.

Gunfighter lives, with his family, in Washington D.C.'s northern Virginia suburbs. He is a tactical firearms instructor for a federal agency. he is active in his community and church. When he grows up, he wants to be a writer, or hand out balloons at Disney World... either would make him very happy. Gunfighter can normally be found at The View From Here, ranting on any number of subjects.

This post is part of the July Blog Exchange. This month we're tackling the prompt “In my child’s eyes”. You can find me at Gunfighter's site today, and the full list of participants can be found by clicking here.