Monsters

• Khushinder Randhawa, Grade 12
• Short Story
• 2022

The crow darker than the ash cloud above the village approached the dark piece of rubble he once called home. The last remnants of the sun melted into the cold horizon. He looked down upon the destruction, the black smoke never seemed to halt. The once lush land was now scorched by the war.

As far as the crow could see, piles of seemed like familiar faces were piled on one another like litter. The villagers he knew, the zookeeper, the lady who once fed him water, and the children that would follow his flight until the outskirts of the small village.

Only a few days ago the coldest months passed and summer came. She made every heart sing. The children laughed and the crisp fragrance of the fresh apple pies cooking in the warmth of the villagers homes was overwhelming. But now the village lay quiet, dead.

Rising from the ashes the machines arose with red flags which has a black pattern etched into the middle proudly swaying in the air. They taunted the people they murdered, they roared of laughter every time they consumed an innocent life. The sounds of the explosions never seemed to halt from the ranges in the distance, the debris of the torture made it hard to breathe for the crow. He wondered how the people on the land survived the toxic air. Because he can fly away and find new land, but the people can only run so far.

Beyond the darkness only a little paradise remained where two boys played blissfully. As the crow circled around the fields, he rested on a old pine tree admiring the peace. But he knew the paradise would not remain so long, the war was a venomous snake coiling around its prey and slowly draining its victims.

A faint voice came from bellow "Andrew, Andrew come on its time for supper. Tell your brother to come eat as well"

"Wait mum, five more minutes" a child's voice answered

It wasn't long before two boys bolted out of the lush forest and into their little makeshift home.

The crow took flight once again, he wished he could tell them that the noises of the monsters in the distance were growing louder with each passing moment. But, he knew that their little world would also soon collapse.

With a heavy heart the crow made its way further into the wasteland he couldn't help but think 'why must I be a symbol of death when war is a mans invention?'