Another shitty day…
But I can't give up, my family depends on me, and that's what a man has to do.
The sun isn't even up yet, but I'm already on my feet. The cold cuts to the bone, so I need to be fast. Yesterday, unfortunately, I fell asleep when I got back late, so I didn't prepare anything for this morning.
I go out to chop some wood and arrange it inside the kitchen, lighting a small fire to start warming the house. Once the fire is steady, I head out again for water. Luckily, we live near a well, about two hundred meters inside the family grounds; I don't have to walk to the river. When I get back to my small house, the warmth greets me. I take off my gloves and jacket, stretching them out toward the fireplace. I'm glad I was careful to light the fire before leaving; my fingers were almost frozen, and the tingling sensation is intense.
Bearing the pain, I start cooking some soup. This month, they gave us some meat in the rations, and I managed to buy a little rice at the market, saving everything I could. Today, we'll have a truly nutritious meal.
The wood crackles as the food slowly boils. Outside, snow begins to fall again, covering the ground with its white mantle. I managed to get things done on time, or I would have suffered even more. "Haha," a small laugh escapes my mouth, though it sounds a bit empty.
As I continue preparing the food, I take a bit and taste it. I'm not much of a chef, but I've learned to make things edible, or at least I hope so.
The soup is ready. I portion the food onto plates and carry them on a wooden tray to my mother's room: a bowl of soup with meat and a piece of white bread warmed over the coals, a bit softer than a rock. At least it's edible and not as bad as the black bread we always have.
Entering my mother's room, I see her sleeping. Her face holds an expression of pain; she seems to be dreaming of something awful again. A trace of dried tears rests in her eyes, a storm that chills my heart.
I place the tray on the floor and approach to wake her. Her face is completely pale and thin, almost bony. Tenderly, I take her hand and lift it as I call her: "Mother… Wake up…" Her dull eyes open slowly, showing all the tiredness and pain that comes with her. When she looks at me, her eyes brighten a little, and a small smile appears between her teeth. Despite everything, seeing her like this tears at my heart. I clench my teeth and, with a smile, I tell her: "Look, Mother, I managed to get some things to make you soup. Happy birthday! I love you very much." A tear rolls down my cheek despite my best efforts to stop it. I quickly wipe my face to try and hide it and begin to feed her slowly with a spoon. Little by little, she eats the soup I made while her face tries to smile. Sadly, her body is so tired that instead of a smile, it's more of a grimace. Even so, that expression is worth more than anything else, so I keep feeding her slowly until the soup is finished along with the soaked bread.
I collect the plate and take it back to the kitchen before returning to my mother to help her change. As I remove her clothes, I see the wound on her side: a cut made by a spear that went right through her. Even after so long, the wound shows no signs of closing, causing my mother indescribable pain every day for the past few years.
I still remember that day, two years ago. Some clan members came for my sister, a little girl of only six. My mother was unwilling to let them take her. No matter how much they tried to convince her, my mother was firm. The situation escalated until it was impossible to stop. My uncle tried to take my sister by force, and my mother drew her sword to protect her. The guards who came with my uncle stood in the way, their weapons ready to attack. At that moment, my other uncle attacked her from behind. I couldn't see how he got close to my mother, but he managed to run her through the back with a spear. Blood flowed from my mother's mouth as she fell to her knees, suffering. With a last burst of energy, she threw her sword, pinning my uncle to the ground, killing him instantly.
Those bastards knew my mother was in the Core Stage and wouldn't stand a chance if they fought her head-on, so they had to ambush her.
My uncle Daren took my sister, and I tried to stop him, but I was too weak. With a single kick, I was sent flying and crashed against a wall. Even with my consciousness blurred, I can clearly remember my sister's screams and my mother's cries. Even now, I still don't understand why they took my sister that way.
After that event, they sent us to this old, dilapidated shack where we have to spend the rest of our lives. The difference between this shack and our old house is like heaven and earth. The rations they gave us decreased with the excuse that my mother no longer contributed anything to the clan and that it was unfair to others. Damn ungrateful bastards! For as long as I can remember, my mother had always worked hard to help the clan, and this is how they repay her.
Carefully, I changed the bandage on her wound. It wasn't healing and seemed to be getting worse lately. I need to hurry to find a way to save my mother, no matter what I have to endure.
After changing my mother's clothes, I took what little soup was left. Despite the effort, I have to admit it tastes quite plain since I don't have salt here. But it doesn't matter; as long as I can survive, I'll do whatever it takes.