We walked. And walked. But that is all I had ever known. When dad was alive, sometimes we would walk in silence, and other times he would tell me stories. The picture of my dad was slowly fading into the deep parts of my mind. All that had happened was doing the same. It was as if I was trying to push away the bad parts, and whilst doing that, accidentally my dad got caught up in all of the mess and was pushed back as well.
I remember the way he would look at me though, sometimes unblinkingly, as if I was the one thing he was living for...which was probably true. He would try to give me the majority of the food, the best found clothing. And that gun. The gun.
My sister looks over at me now, smiles slightly and then looks back ahead, laughing at something Mom had said. I remember the day we discussed about what I should call them.
You should call mom, mom. His new friend said to the boy.
I... He began to respond.
You don't have to, sweetie, just call me anything you feel comfortable with.
Well, I...I would like to call you mom.
She knelt down, and looked at me, straight into my eyes, and I could see the tears that were swelling in her clear blue eyes. The eyes that shone out like lost lights in the middle of a storm. I would like that very much. She said.
That was a long time ago. But now, we were almost there. One more day, no two. We had slowly been shedding our clothes, yet piling them on the cart, just in case. Our dog was traipsing along behind us, panting heavily with the heat. The green flowering had been slowly growing to finally reveal what was just over this hill. But finally. We came. We were panting, hiking, when suddenly, we froze, seeing what lay below us. As if heaven had just suddenly fallen out of the sky.
And they watched the sun rise.
A much better ending, I think. Kind of shows you that they do live happily ever after.
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