Forgetting

§f.§4§l ----------§0 §f...§0§l Forgetting§0 §f.§4§l ----------§0 §0 §0 §0 §f.§0 §0§oby§0 §0 §0 §f.§0 Lineral§0 §0 §f..§4§l ---«✸»---§0 §0

I think I had a nice§0 §0life. Or at least that's§0 §0what I remember. My§0 §0wife, my house, my son.§0 §0Every day with my§0 §0family was a gift. We§0 §0were a simple people,§0 §0didn't need much. When§0 §0you went short of§0 §0something, there was§0 §0always a neighbour to§0 §0back you up.§0

We lived in a small§0 §0village without§0 §0disruptions with only§0 §0one traveler coming§0 §0around every month§0 §0that we traded with.§0 §0Rest of the time we§0 §0farmed. We cherished§0 §0our land and it gave§0 §0back the best it had.§0 §0Yes, we were happy.§0

That's the memory I'm§0 §0trying to save, where§0 §0I'm trying to escape in§0 §0my mind, while I§0 §0experience my second§0 §0death. Burning alive. I§0 §0cling to memories of my§0 §0first life while I'm§0 §0trying my best to§0 §0ignore the images what§0 §0I've done in the§0 §0second.§0

Trying not to§0 §0remember how my§0 §0wife's meat tasted. How§0 §0my son reeked with§0 §0fear while I banged§0 §0mindlessy and insanely§0 §0on the door of the§0 §0little house where he§0 §0desperately tried to§0 §0hide. But there was no§0 §0use.§0

I was not human§0 §0anymore, there was§0 §0only hunger and§0 §0madness.§0 §0 §0In the end, this is my§0 §0salvation. As the last§0 §0pieces of rotten mean,§0 §0burned to crisp, falls§0 §0from my body,§0 §0 §0I'm finally forgetting.§0