Invasion

They came in the night. The moon looked on sadly, its pale face shedding tears that turned to stars in the inky sky. Trucks twisted through the town, sharp voices piercing the air. Small black circles tattooed on fists that knocked harshly on wooden doors. Scared faces peeking out at the world that was crashing to their bare feet.

I ran. My feet found the thin tracks in the forest and carried me away, swimming, flying between the safety of leaves, into the night. The ground was hard and my skin stung in the cold.

They came angrily, their faces knitted in tight frowns. They took men; they took children who were a little too big for their toys. They were rough; they shouted insults and any responses were smacked to the ground, their small words littering the dirty street, trodden on by shiny black boots.

I watched from the hills, the mist of the night shrouding me like a scarf. I watched with small black eyes and a strand of hair that never quite tucked behind my ear. I watched, scared and confused, with shaking legs and aching muscles. I watched, but I didn’t do anything. I breathed louder than the screams; thick, heavy gasps that lingered in the air.

I watched the sun rise reluctantly over the hills, leaking through the clouds scattered across the sky.Its pale, watery light followed me as I returned home, my heart in my stomach and the tears flying into the mud.