The soldiers are marching again, with the heavy sound of drums quick to follow.
Everyone in the town who knows what is coming stays silent and tries to hide, praying that they won't stop here, in Woodson.
And it's every week now that they pick a new...
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Hearing the jingle of a radio station come on, my legs carry me into the dining room.
The machine is the most expensive thing I've ever gotten, and I bought it for Andres on his sixteenth birthday even though I probably enjoy it more than he does.
"... but where exactly is the Others' national capital? Intel from Nation headquarters is keeping quiet about -"
I quickly change the war news channel to something else on the radio.
"Far in the brilliant sky, Under the sun where the mulberries lie, A picture of an open flower, In the garden of golden hour..."
One of my favorite lullabies plays on through the tiny speaker, one that my mother used to sing to me. I sigh, leaning back in my chair. The soft music from the classical channel is much better than being reminded of daily war horrors.
Inside my home, all of the candles are lit since it is getting dark out, and I perch myself up onto the small ripped couch against the window to watch the orange sunset.
I am tired from this morning - working in the hot sun makes me drowsy. So earlier, after getting the buckets of water, I went into my backyard to pull weeds out from the ground and pick food from the few vegetable plants we have growing.
Hearing the front door open over the radio music, I look up from the couch to see my brother walking in. He looks tired, too, and I notice that unlike most days, his clothes are dirty. He must have taken a job outside today and is so exhausted that even though there is dirt on his shoes, Andres comes to sit next to me on the couch.
He nudges my arm to get me to move over in my sea, laying his curly haired head down on my shoulder, half asleep.
He doesn't say anything to me, and neither do I to him. Listening to the radio together, we are in peace although we have hardly seen each other all day.
Throughout the days of the week when he isn't at school, Andres often helps my dad with his metal tinkering, sometimes taking an odd agriculture job outside of the house or hunting for food while I manage the water well, our backyard, the market, cooking meals and other things that need to be done daily.
My mom passed away five years ago, right before the war started, so I do all of the cooking, cleaning, and washing in the house. But since my dad doesn't do much, I also have taken on the responsibility of other duties.
At fourteen years old, I was forced to drop school, in order to take care of things. The first few months were very unforgiving. But soon enough, things got worse for everyone, most being pulled out of school because the war had begun, survival trumping education.
Thankfully, I personally made sure that Andres would be able to continue school while I couldn't, which is why he knows how to read and write better than I do.
