It was quiet. 

He couldn’t hear anything. 

Everything was going so fast now… he couldn’t catch up. 

In his periphery, a blur of flashing lights caressed the slowly falling gossamer snow… a white stillness shrouded the pain of the unknown.  As the fury of colors stopped before him, the dread began to seep inside of his little heart.  How could this happen to him?  He was so happy… and now, what did he have to live for? 

They were dead… all of them were gone.  

Now, he was left to pick up the pieces of the nothingness of his life.  He had no family any longer.  His mother… his father… the woman who gave birth to him… all gone in a matter of moments through time.  But why was he left behind?  Was it God’s doing?  How could he have been so blessed?  In this case; however, blessings were curses in disguise.  His ‘luck’ of having soccer camp that week kept him from what had occurred. 

As he stood in shocked silence outside his front door, only wearing his pajamas in the cold early morning air, someone camp up to him and put a heavy blanket around his small, frail body, holding him close in their strong arms.  This person must have been saying something to him… he couldn’t quite make it out.  It seemed so familiar, yet his mind couldn’t grasp what it was.  Suddenly, he felt this person with the strong arms moving him somewhere, while continuing to talk as if nothing had happened.  When they stopped moving, or at least, ceased to go forward, the strong arms held him close again, as his little head lulled to the side, impacting the strong person’s shoulder and chest.  The warmth of the person’s touch was intense, causing him to nuzzle closer, somehow feeling very safe.  It was all so familiar… but how?  How? 

Out of nowhere, he felt the strong arms let him go and someone with cold hands touched him.  It wasn’t right; he didn’t like it… he wanted the strong arms back.  He wanted them back that very minute.  He struggled against the cold-handed person, as his lips began to quiver.  Tears welled up in his eyes and fell, washing the fright & sightlessness from his eyes.  For the first time, he could see everything clearly. 

He searched around for the strong arms, not knowing who they belonged to.  He couldn’t see him anywhere, which made him cry even more.  He was sitting in an ambulance.  He could tell that much.  A woman nearby (the one he assumed the person with the cold hands) was talking on a walkie-talkie… he knew this, because her lips were moving repeatedly.  Within minutes of her speaking to someone, people began to emerge from the house in front of him. That was his house.  Multiple faces entered and exited the residence, carrying things that he’d only seen in movies and when he went to NCIS, when his father was missing.  But, his father wasn’t missing anymore… he was laying face-down in the kitchen… bloody… dead… it started up his memories of what he saw.  He needed to tell someone and soon before he forgot someone.  He opened his mouth to say something, but the words wouldn’t come out… they were more scared than he was at that point.  He couldn’t handle this… he needed to wake up from this bad dream.  He put his head down and closed his eyes, just to get things straight in his mind.  He soon felt a memorable feeling… a recognizable touch… Those strong arms were back, holding him close… this time with a soft kiss to the top of his head, and for the first time, he heard the man’s voice… it was so familiar.  He slowly looked up and saw the man’s face… he couldn’t believe he was there… it made more tears emerged.  When the man saw this, he softly wiped them away with the thumb, engulfing the young boy’s cold, pale white cheek with warmth.  As that happened, he finally heard the strong-armed man speak… “I will protect you, buddy… don’t you worry about that…” For that brief second, all was right in the world with him… this man would keep his word… he just had to keep it… he just had to…

To Be Continued?