Facing the Rising Sun

I’m on my way home from a brutal battle, but on my way through the door I can’t help but notice something different.

“Who are you?” Someone says, letting me in.

“I’m West, your cousin,” I reply.

“Johnny is dead, John is dead, Edith and a ton of other family members too.”

“What happened, where did everyone go?”

“Patricia is dead, and there’s no way of tracking everyone down. Some have caught the drug bug and some have been beaten down by life, never to recover.” 

“Mom, get up, keep fighting, I know you have some more fight left in you,” I say, observing her in her hospital bed across the room.

Sitting in a room alone, waiting for the results, I notice the sun outside of my window, so I get up hoping for a better tomorrow. It almost seems like everyone is fighting and falling down beside me.

“What has the dark past taught us?” I ask myself looking at all of the memories scattered on the walls. In my work uniform, I face the rising sun of my new day begun. I have no choice but to march on with what’s left until whatever victory is won.

Facing the rising sun.