The Civilian

Distant ringing. A million needles prick every sensible inch of my body. The ringing rises to a screech. Something warm drips down my cheek. Fingernails against a black board. My eyes flutter open, I stagger to my feet. The noise is deafening. I cover my ears and wince. My hands are covered in crimson blood. Dizziness threatens to rid me of my senses again, I sit down to steady myself. I'm surrounded , as far as my eyes can see, by heaps of crumbled rubble, where my village once thrived.As I remove shards of glass and gravel embedded in my scarred skin, I squint into the sunlight, seeking answers. The blue sky mocks me with its peaceful tranquility.

And then it hits me.

The sky.

The sky hurled destructive atrocities at us. 

The sky ripped open and spewed fire and flames.

The sky orchestrated panic and wreaked havoc on poor pawns like myself.

Bombs rained down, and I lost a battle that was never mine.