It is the second day of our journey, September 13, 2009. I still vividly recall Mr. Limcuando's expression as he parted from us—his child. We have ridden three trains so far, having left our province behind, with two more regions to travel before reaching the bay where a ship awaits us. We need to escape our home country, Zanles, immediately.
There haven't been any meaningful updates about the war. Last I heard, Philgenia finally declared it official—as if the fighting wasn't already happening. I'm nineteen, not a foreign policy expert, but even I can see how absurd this is. A war over maritime borders and fishing rights? And now people are dying for it. My dad included. Mr. Limcuando's out there too, caught in the middle of a conflict that probably could've been avoided with a little common sense.
Though he was not a good husband, he was a decent father. He even managed to perform a silly dance as we boarded the train. Austyn and Keith, my younger brothers, were blissfully unaware that their father was heading off to war. They laughed and giggled as Mr. Limcuando made faces at them through the train window.
"Kira, look!" Austyn tugged at my dress, eager for me to see our father one last time. I kept my gaze averted, my eyes stinging as I clenched my hands tightly. As the train's engine roared to life, I could faintly hear Mr. Limcuando's voice from outside.
"Nicolette, you must get your brothers out of here, alright? After traveling for five days, you'll probably reach Nana's. Please take care of my mom," he reminded me.
"Don't worry," I promised him. I would definitely take care of Nana Esma; she is all I have now besides my brothers.
I noticed my brothers' expressions had turned serious; Keith, being eight years older than Austyn, seemed to grasp the gravity of our situation.
"Kira, we're going on vacation, right?" he asked grimly. I looked at him and forced a smile as I nodded. I felt pity for this kid; I didn't know how to handle his obsession with normalcy while we were parting ways with our father.
As the train began to move, Mr. Limcuando walked alongside it as it picked up speed, his hand pressed against the window as he spoke again. "Nicolette, can you look at your father? " His voice cracked with emotion.
I couldn't bring myself to look at him even during our farewell. Austyn held his small hands up against the window to catch a glimpse of their father's expression.
"Mr. Limcuando, please don't upset Austyn," I said as I turned my head to comfort my brother. Mr. Limcuando continued running alongside us until his eyes met mine—filled with unspoken words—before he finally stopped in his tracks.
That was two days ago; now we find ourselves in a restaurant before boarding our fourth train to reach Nana's.
"Kira, can I get dessert?" Austyn asked shyly, his dark curls obscuring his face.
I brushed his bangs aside. "Of course! What do you want?" My heart tugged at the thought of wasting precious money that Mr. Limcuando had given us. Our family had never been financially stable since mom cut ties with us; I'd taken on part-time work to ease some of the burden on Mr. Limcuando… but it was never enough.
I bought Keith and Austyn ice cream and decided that I'd make up for the expense by skipping my own meal and just drinking water.
We would take the bus in the morning to reach the train station; for now, we would spend the night in a cheap hotel. It was windy outside, so I closed the windows to prevent Austyn's rheumatism from acting up and dressed him in warm clothes for extra protection. I let them borrow my phone to watch downloaded movies while I stepped out to buy instant noodles for their dinner.
Before leaving, I warned Keith not to touch my things; he merely stared at me in response. This angered me—not entirely at him but also at myself for harboring resentment toward a child who didn't know better and couldn't control himself.
As I stepped into the half-emptied convenience store, I saw the news: the foreign military had launched an attack on our city. My heart sank at the thought of my dad fighting there. The noodles I was filling with hot water overflowed and burned my hand, snapping me back to reality. Along with the noodles, I grabbed some snacks for them to munch on during our early morning train ride.
When I returned, they began eating while I checked our tickets—only to discover they were fake. Frustrated by being surrounded by scoundrels, I ruffled my hair in despair. After tucking them into bed, I rushed back to the station only to find it closed; banging on it in anger yielded no results. That night, I silently cried in the street, feeling cheated and defeated as our money slipped away.
I turned back with plans to seek help another day when suddenly a bright light illuminated the sky—it couldn't be what I feared... It grew brighter by the second! Seeking shelter inside a nearby car, I felt a hand grip my collar.
"What are you doing?" a man's voice demanded.
I stayed silent, bracing myself for impact as a deafening sound followed shortly after his words—I heard nothing after that; only silence enveloped me.
"Let go! It was an emergency! That was an atomic bomb!"
I felt him release me then; only minutes remained before radioactive dust began falling around us.
"I guess you could say we're lucky," I said dryly after regaining composure. "I thought we were going to die just now; if I'm right, that explosion happened just several miles from here."
Expecting no reply but feeling compelled to explain what little knowledge I had about our situation, I spoke again but felt hands shaking me gently on my shoulders instead.
Startled by his touch and realizing he might still see something through those blinding lights while being deafened like me—I took his hand and wrote on his palm what I'd said earlier: "We have only a few minutes before we die. Help me and I'll help you."