We are but a speck of sand, dirty and dull...
Until you, beloved Mitraya...shine your light upon us.
Then...we become as diamonds.
~
The final drops of the gasoline rumbled out of the large, metal gas can, raining down upon the small boy...
His eyes closed, tiny fists clenched tightly at his sides...he cried softly. Seeing his clothes were fully soaked through, the man fumbled through his pockets in search of the box of matches.
The child flinched at the sound he knew to be a match striking the side of the small box.
shriiiiict! shriiiiict! shriiiiict!
The final strike was done with such force, it broke the match in half.
The man, his own father, cursed the boy as he struggled to get another match.
shriiiict! shriiiict! shriiiiiict!
A second match broken, and the child sighs in relief.
His father slurs another curse towards him, drunken hands grab another match and cause the rest of the matches to fall out of the box and onto the gasoline soaked floor.
SHRIIIICT! SHRIIIICT! SHRIIIICT!
The final match breaks as the boy's mother forces herself into the room.
She is a lot smaller than his father and he knows she will be hurt for her intrusion. He watches through squinted eyes...as the first blow is thrown at his mother.
With the gas evaporating from his face, he timidly opens his eyes completely and realizes this is his chance to run.
He runs to the only place he feels safe... a child of four years old...could not leave his parent's home. But the basement...in all its dark, damp, cluttered glory...was perfect.
He had used it before, when his life had been in danger... and he hid there now, knowing it would be the last place they would look.
When the beating was finished, his mother lay half broken on the floor.
The man took his keys and left the home. When his mother woke up, she ran...leaving five children all under the age of 10 years old in the home to fend for themselves.
The oldest Anna was very wise beyond her ten years of life. The house had little food...just some eggs, a whole, raw chicken, a loaf of bread and some milk. She cried to herself with worry how she could take care of the entire house. A kind neighbor visited and taught her how to make fried chicken... later they would discover that their mother was hiding in this neighbor's home.
The boy hid for one full week in the basement, too afraid to come out. Scraps of sandwiches a few apples and water from a faucet, his saving grace.
In the dim light of the basement...crouched in a corner...he watched the sun rise and set seven days. He held his hand in the air towards the cracked glass of the tiny basement window on the morning of the seventh day...the light reflected made his eyes shine brilliantly.
He closed them back and took a deep breath before moving the boxes out of his way.
As he finally emerged, he swore to himself to run far away as soon as he was large enough to be on his own.
There were many more beatings for both his mother and himself over the years after this moment...
and that child would run away at 16 and join the military.
He would serve two tours in Vietnam as a field medic.
I remember him today.
In the dim light of the basement...crouched in a corner...he watched the sun rise and set seven days. He held his hand in the air towards the cracked glass of the tiny basement window on the morning of the seventh day...the light reflected made his eyes shine brilliantly.
He closed them back and took a deep breath before moving the boxes out of his way.
As he finally emerged, he swore to himself to run far away as soon as he was large enough to be on his own.
There were many more beatings for both his mother and himself over the years after this moment...
and that child would run away at 16 and join the military.
He would serve two tours in Vietnam as a field medic.
I remember him today.
