As my workload never ceases and the years have progressed, these last six years have been brutal, yet rewarding for my craftsmanship. When the order to double production had gone out, I hadn’t thought much of it. It was easy enough to keep up. Though, now, I fear it has dwindled my physical strength. I swore when King Ozzy declared his order that he said it would end when the war ended. Yet, it ended over two years ago when our king passed. As he did, he left a gap of power in leadership. It was said his son was still two years too young to lead at the time. Surely, however, he must be in power as of now. Alas, no one knows what he looks like, as he wasn’t privy to the public growing up. There once was a rumor that the former king was not fond of his son and that was the reasoning. The true answer remains unknown and simply mere gossip. Not that it necessarily matters very much to me, especially given my current state.
All the extra weapons I had been making were twice the amount I was used to making, maybe even thrice. I often found myself staying up late. I cannot count on my hands the days that the sun peeked over the horizon before I had completed my quota of weapons from the day before. However, I always put my family first despite any problems ailing me.
My kids were all I had, they were my whole world- beginning and end. My only remembrance of my late wife lived on through them. Alivia had her beautiful smile, and Ezra had one of each of our eyes and her same freckle patterns. It was never easy explaining to my dear son how the mother he never got to meet passed before he could even know her. Every single year, we visit her grave, bring flowers, and I tell them my favorite stories of her. The day is especially hard for all of us, but in different ways. Alivia, though almost eighteen, always gets a sad look on her face. I know she can barely remember her since she was only two years old, but the pain is still clear as day. Ezra, not even hours old when she passed- my poor boy- would ask me when he was a young boy if he killed his mother. I always assure him that he couldn’t have controlled what happened, something I must also remind myself from time to time. Even sixteen years later, I still don’t know if he believes me. As for myself, Anastasia was more than everything or even my whole world. There was no one like her, and there still isn’t. There will never be. Simply put, she was one of a kind, in her own league. Women constantly try to flirt or court my heart, but I always, respectfully and with the class befitting my dearly departed wife, decline their offers swiftly. A part of me died with her that solemn day. It will never come back until the fateful day I join her. Alas, that day may be sooner than I ever thought. As I mentioned, my workload has finally caught up, not just mentally any longer but physically. I’ve tried to hide it from my family to protect them. They need not worry about this. They are still so young.
Today, I had planned to make a lovely meal for Alivia and myself, seeing as Ezra is off preparing to serve in the military as Ezra is off preparing to serve in the military. I had picked up all the meat, spices, and even some of her favorite desserts. The last thing I needed to grab was some bread. Everything was going wonderfully until I reached to grab a loaf of bread and felt a shooting pain in my chest. The last thing I remember is an uproar of screams as I felt my knees buckle, my vision tanking towards the floor.
Next thing I know, I’m waking up in a cold sweat at home. I cough so violently that my hand flies to my mouth in shock. When I remove it, it is covered in blood. I shakily reach for the handkerchief I keep in my breast pocket, wiping it off. I lay back down and stare at the ceiling. It’s ghastly quiet. No one seems to be around. How did I even get here? Whoever it was clearly knew where I lived, so Alivia should have heard by now. My breathing grows shallow as the door slams open, followed by a panicked Alivia rushing over to me.
She pulls me into her arms with ease as my strength continues to leave my body.
A chill runs up my spine as I meet her tear-filled eyes.
Upon seeing my condition, she begins to beg and pleads with me not to go into the light.
I use what strength I have left to grab her hand, “Alivia…”
My voice speaks in a shaky and foreign tone to me.
Tears fall violently from her eyes like miniature waterfalls.
“Save your breath, Father, please.”
My heart ached at the sight of her, but I must tell her what I must. “L-let me speak…” I coughed again, just as violently as before, if not more.
I stare at my bloody handkerchief, realization washing its truth over me.
“I don’t have long left.”
“Don’t say such things…” She frowned, her lip quivering.
“When I’m gone, I want you to look after your brother.”
I only have one regret at this moment- that I cannot give my son a proper goodbye. I hope he won’t be too troubled by the news when it finally reaches him.
“Please, Father, hold on You can’t die. You can’t leave me here.” She says sniffling.
In these final moments, I look at my beautiful daughter, so grown up, shedding big crocodile tears for an old man. Strangely enough, it gives me peace that she is going to be okay without me, even if she hasn’t realized it yet. I had raised her well, Ezra too. The army would look after him. They’d be in safe hands.
“It will be okay, my wildflower. You’re going to be okay.” I inhale another painful, shallow breath.
“Please, I can’t live without you.” She said as she clung to me.
The roof behind her seems to begin to glow; I couldn’t tell if it was actually happening or if it’s my pain-induced state. I swear I could make out Anastasia reaching her arms out to me.
“It’s okay. You did good. You can let go now. It’s time.” She seemed to say.
I give Alivia a bittersweet smile before giving up the losing fight. I let a final breath slip from my lips as I seem to rise out of my body, heading towards that same light.
My love, I’m finally coming home…