WL's Prompts- Short Stories - 2. Prompt 71- Shadow that Walks Beside Me

I didn’t choose this life, utterly alone in a world filled with violence and death, but I have no choices anymore for myself. I hide my nature from everyone around me and hide it from myself at times. If anyone knew my secret, I would either be ostracized by the few alive or be turned over to one of the Vatnik, followers of the new regime. These Vatnik believe men like me are an affront to their God, who promised them hegemony and empire if we were removed from this world. The tragic ones, who marched for our freedom and equality openly, were not able to hide from the Vatnik. Many were sent to places far away for “education”, but I have heard tales of these places and know only death would await me there. I survived by being a coward, living in fear of everyone and everything.

Thus, I live alone in this empty bombed-out apartment building that used to be my home, perhaps not to the standards of those on Western shows with large televisions and electronics, but it was comfortable for someone with a small salary. The stairs to my unit were always shaky and the roof was unable to keep out all the rain, but it was safer to be undesirable. The Vatnik and their Katsap thugs looted the finer apartments when they first entered the town. The inhabitants of those apartments, who had better jobs, better lives, and full families were left with nothing, not even their dignity. It did not matter if you were old or young, man or woman.

When I walk the streets in the morning, I do not head to work anymore, because there are no longer jobs. The rich had left with their fortunes, the army was killed to the last man, and the motherless Katsap soldiers of the conquerors moved on after pillaging and raping the remnants. The other residents had left as well, seeing no use in trying to rebuild here with memories of horror and loss. I am still here, because of a shadow, a memory of someone I had promised to never leave even though his mortal essence is no longer here.

I walk hungry often. There are no longer markets left, so I must travel far to seek out food from the abandoned farms near this town. The Katsap soldiers had already been through most of them, but they ignored the rows of corn and only grabbed the livestock and storage of grains. Out of hunger, I would eat the corn when I find it, like a wild beast. This was not always the case; I remember a time when the smell of freshly fried Syrnyky was filling the air. When a man would laugh with me as we drank glasses of wine, while I prepared a roast.

Gone were those times as I walk alone, seeking meaning with the shadow of things past behind me.