I suggest you listen to the song that inspired this story. I made this story for a project in English class and thought you guys would like it.
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"Mama," he whispered, trying to raise his hand to stroke my cheek one more time.
"No! Don't you dare die on me!" I sobbed, as I put as much pressure as I could on his stomach. I reached for his hand, pressing it against my cheek with my bloody palm. "You're gonna make it. The reinforcements will arrive here soon, and they'll help you, and you'll be fine," I hoarsely shouted clutching his head to my chest, still keeping his hand on my cheek.
"Mama," he murmured breathlessly, letting his hand collapse on the ash and rubble covered ground, slowly drooping his eyes shut.
"No! No, no, no, no,no, no, no!" I screeched, tightening my grip on his slumped body.
"No, please anyone! Please help me!" I yelled into the empty street. My bloodshot eyes darted around the area, taking every detail in, trying to figure out what I had done to get in this position.
I was now alone in the world, Christian and Michael were dead. My heart had reached it's breaking point. My mind couldn't focus on one thing, but at the same time, memories raced, making me remember every good and bad thing that happened in the past 13 years. It wasn't unexpected, but I just didn't want to believe it. I felt useless because I couldn't have stopped it no matter what I had done.
I inhaled one last time closing my eyes, as I heard the final sound I knew I would ever hear.
Bang.
*******
It was the year 2137. The world was at war.
The first hit transpired in the Caribbean sea. A pirate clipper attacked a cargo ship that moved huge amounts of clean, potable water from the rivers in the Amazon to the New Orleans bay, because the British had paid them to. That was the beginning. The South and North American Empires, enraged, retaliated starting World War 3.
The needed males at age 15 and above making me a widow and orphan, as my mother had died when I was a child. My last name was removed since all the men in my family died, making me just Thea. With the men gone, all us childless women could do was adopt the children in need and keep them healthy in times of depression and desperation. My child, Michael, was the age of 8.
My husband's name, Christian Stark, was well known in our small town, dubbed Henningsvær. Out of the 198 that left our originally 444 people town, He was the only man that came back. With only a little under half of our original number, all the women hated Christian.
Crushed by the onus of being the only man who had returned, he leaped off Dreyers Gate Bridge plummeting into the freezing waters of Heimsundet River.
*******
Less than six months later Norway was assaulted from the coast because of it's isolation and easy access.
The raid had started hours ago. Canadians had destroyed the wall around the coast, letting their soldiers advance into our peaceful town. In the half hour after their entrance us women had make do with furniture and created an alternative barricade encircling the city hall.
It seemed as though we had a chance, but that all went to hell when they released the BOMBs (Bomber Of MIlitaria Biology). They struck from the shadows, blowing up our walls as if it were child's play. We bolted out of the back door, our feet pounding as the toddlers wailed into our shoulders, frightened of the pitch black night. I dashed to my house on Banhammaren street through a back ally.
Once I reached my home, I took notice of the busted down door. I entered, apprehensive of what could be inside. The painting on the wall in front of the door had been shredded; I turned right, heading for the kitchen when I noticed a slight buzzing coming from the living room, making me duck beneath the counter. I recognized the sound as the engine of a BOMB. Michael started crying, hyperventilating and rocking back and forth, causing me to panic and cover his mouth with my trembling hand, shushing him gently. I let go of Michael after he stopped bawling, putting my finger to my lips signaling for him to quiet down.
Once he understood the message I snatched a knife that had fallen to the floor, creeping around the counter. When I stood behind the BOMB I raised the blade about to strike when it abruptly whipped around, grabbing me by the neck and bashing me into the nearby wall. I felt a trickle of blood slowly trail my hairline as I blindly scratched and stabbed. Just as I was about to faint, I saw a small pair of fists punily punching the robot's hip. It looked down and picking up Michael by the front of his battered and torn shirt.
My eyes widened, panicking, I shoved the inside of it's metal elbow down, causing it's hand to release of my neck. It turned to glance at me as it dropped my son and I lunged, letting out a battle cry and stabbing it where a normal human would have a heart. It's visual sensors stared down then directly into my eyes, the glowing red light flickering and shutting off completely. I pushed the BOMB away from me sliding the knife out. As soon as I did that I turned back toward Michael and rushed forward, pulling him into a bone-crunching hug.
"Don't you ever do that again," I whispered relishing this moment.
"Yes, Mama," he whispered back wrapping his arms around my neck.
I let go, inspecting the living room for anything that could harm us.
"Let's go, we have to leave town."
Micahel nodded, letting go and grabbing my hand. I stood up, pulling him gently toward the obliterated doorway. We gingerly walked out, wary of our surroundings. I kept him close while walking down the ash covered street. Looking down at him, I smiled when I saw he had already looked up to smile at me. I moved my gaze upward just in time to see a man level a rifle at my son. I screamed, hugging Michael and kneeling while turning, my back facing the man. However, I wasn't fast enough.
"Mama," he whispered, trying to raise his hand to stroke my cheek one more time.
"No! Don't you dare die on me!" I sobbed, as I put as much pressure as I could on his stomach. I reached for his hand, pressing it against my cheek with my bloody palm. "You're gonna make it. The reinforcements will arrive here soon, and they'll help you, and you'll be fine," I hoarsely shouted clutching his head to my chest, still keeping his hand on my cheek.
"Mama," he murmured breathlessly, letting his hand collapse on the ash and rubble covered ground, slowly drooping his eyes shut.
"No! No, no, no, no,no, no, no!" I screeched, tightening my grip on his slumped body.
"No, please anyone! Please help me!" I yelled into the empty street. My bloodshot eyes darted around the area, taking every detail in, trying to figure out what I had done to get in this position.
I was now alone in the world, Christian and Michael were dead. My heart had reached it's breaking point. My mind couldn't focus on one thing, but at the same time, memories raced, making me remember every good and bad thing that happened in the past 13 years. It wasn't unexpected, but I just didn't want to believe it. I felt useless because I couldn't have stopped it no matter what I had done.
I inhaled one last time closing my eyes, as I heard the final sound I knew I would ever hear.
Bang.
YOU ARE READING
Mama (S.S.)
Short Story"Mama," he whispered, trying to raise his hand to stroke my cheek one more time. "No! Don't you dare die on me!" I sobbed, as I put as much pressure as I could on his stomach. I reached for his hand, pressing it against my cheek with my bloody palm...
